Our place.

My place, your place, our place.

As I look around me at the four walls that encapsulate me, I cant help but notice the slightest of sounds I have become accustomed to. Footsteps above me that once created the most annoying of sounds, that creaking noise, is now unconsciously shut out, ignored.

But it’s in my bed when I became aware once again.

Your bed is a thing of such comfort and safety, yet at the same time, frustration and inability. My bed remains a place of familiarity, unlike its surroundings. In this very moment my bed is my workspace with pens, pencils, my sketchbook and various charging leads scattered around it, however, in 4 or 5 hours it will become my slump, a place to watch tv and fall asleep. The versatility of a bed is what makes it so amazing, I can feel so unable and incompetent in my bed but also so uplifted, intimate, and at peace.

My bed once became our place, and then back to mine, and soon will be someone else’s.

Recorded in bed, very true to style.

The sounds of a bedroom are most obvious when first moving in, with the empty room and white walls that sound so easily bounces off of, an echo is present. As you move each of your items in, piece by piece, posters on walls, clothes hung up, bedding made, the sound starts to be absorbed. Your room becomes your sound.