storytelling

My idea of a bedroom creates a space that breathes, a place that doesn’t confine but supports rest with lightness and intention. The absence of bedside tables and wardrobes is not a lack but a deliberate choice, removing what clutters in order to give room to air, calm, and the essential presence of the objects that truly matter. The wooden chest of drawers placed in front of the bed becomes a point of balance, a classic walnut‑coloured piece with four drawers. Beside the window, the valet stand for trousers and clothes introduces a simple, functional daily gesture. The bookshelf, with its sixteen square compartments, establishes a visual rhythm—a grid that organizes thoughts and readings, a microcosm of objects that reflect identity. And then there is the true protagonist: Birillo. Retrieved from a living room and brought back to light like a precious find, it becomes the emotional core of the room. Its warm, pulsating orange glow interacts with the chromatic palette: a sunset entering the home, settling on the walls, and accompanying the transition from day to night. The gradient that descends from the white ceiling to the fiery red of the bed frame creates a horizon, while in the evening a soft blue light guides the reader through the final pages before rest.