"Rheanne, why don't you do something with your life. All you ever do is sit in your room allllll day."
Uh huh. Sure, that's true some days. But as my older siblings and parents would, or at least should, recall, is that I have always spent a good portion of my time in my bedroom. Most of my childhood memories consist of me in my room, playing barbies. In my room, listening to music. In my room, imagining far-off worlds and different times. I have always loved having a room for myself to sneak away to, a room in which I can sit without being disturbed and imagine all sorts of adventures. A room to provide silence and solitude for my reading pleasure. This is the way it has always been.
Perhaps I should spend more time with my family. I don't know. I do know is that whenever I go upstairs to find some kind of activity, I either: (a) Find nothing interesting to do, (b) Find that nobody wants to play anything, (c) Get in trouble, or (d) Eat things that I really don't need to be eating. Might I also add, that in the summertime it can be dreadfully hot up there when the air conditioner isn't on. Can you really blame me if I prefer the cool air that sits in my humble bedroom to the stifling heat that sticks to you as soon as your foot reaches the top step?
Another accusation made against me is that all I ever do is go on my computer. Well, unfortunately, for the first few months that I was home, and for that unspeakable period of slight depression in mid-April, this was quite true. I have since however learned to do other things to occupy my time. Lately I have come by some very good books, some of which would take me hours to put down. Last week I was able to buy some more paint-by-numbers, thus enabling me to practice my painting again. My violin continues to show off its glory, sitting on top of its case, and of course my writing, musings, and drawing has considerably doubled.
This is why my room constantly looks as if a tornado passed by. When I get into an artistic state of mind, all other cares and worries of life - food, cleanliness, society - pass from my mind, and all I can focus on is the deep satisfaction and joy I achieve from these simple hobbies.
I recall my teenage years. I often spent my hours - and they were many, believe me! - sitting on my bed or floor, eyes closed in a deep reverie, listening to some very enjoyable music. It was usually violin or fiddle music, and I was really imagining myself as the lead violinist. I still do that. Only now, while I listen to music, I can put my thoughts into words, and the words into blogs. Ok, so not all of my musings and thoughts are beneficial for all of mankind. But it is a hobby, and a rather enjoyable one at that.
Nobody laughs at or accuses a stamp-collector, a scrap-booker, a photographer, or a rock-painter, of being "lazy" or "unproductive". And if they do, they shouldn't. All people need some kind of escape from the real world, a place or a thing in which they can unleash their imaginations and show the world what they are capable of doing. Some work better alone in well-decorated studios, some prefer rooms full of noisy people, some prefer the outdoors.
I prefer my bedroom, thank you very much.
