I recently moved.

I had been enjoying a rather spacious two-bedroom apartment, with views of Griffith Observatory. I got a killer deal on a place I subletted it from a friend. We always knew it was a short-term situation. A temporary, win-win for us both. I was given the option to stay after the lease ended but the landlord was going to jack up the rent way beyond what I can afford. I get that my southern is showing when I say this, but I am completely horrified by the astronomical cost of living in LA. It’s mostly worth it, you get what you pay for with the weather and an over chill vibe, but seriously???

I’ve found a studio apartment a block away and signed a one-year lease. While tiny (406 square feet tiny), it’s adorable and keeps me in the neighborhood which I adore. Also, the price is right. The building is was built in thirties with lots of old Hollywood charm. Although recently renovated, there is a sense of history about this place that both piques my curiosity and brings me comfort. That property manager is a tough, older lady named Sylvia and she’s managed the building for 32 years and she’s has already given me the scoop on the neighbors. She’s “seen it all” over the years.

In order to make the space work, I had to either donate or store anything that wasn’t necessary or “brought me joy”, as Marie Kando would say. I have purged my belongings several times in the past few years. Each time thinking, “it’s not like I have that much stuff, what else do I need to let go of”? It’s both practical and poetic say the least.

Once the boxes were in, the movers and Jacob had left and it was just me, I was overwhelmed. This space is legitimately smaller than most hotel rooms I’ve stayed in. As I am the queen of re-framing and sometimes afraid of big feelings, I immediately (and frantically) reminded myself that I have a knack for making spaces pretty, and that for the first time since moving to LA, I have a place that feels like my own. My tenderness towards this little spot is something to cherish. While there is without a doubt more work to do to make it feel more livable and stop the walls from closing in but for today, I am celebrating the space and embracing my new, (somewhat) minimalist way of living.