1 Gakinos

Descriptive Essay Of A Room

The door is white, with some scratches at the bottom from my pug scraping it with her claws. My pug scratches the door when she wants to come into my room. The door handle is brown and metal. At the complete bottom of the door is a rubber flap, which I do not know the reason why it is there. The room is about three lengths of my arm span, including the closet.

The floor in my room is wooden, and it creaks when stepped on. However, I do have one white, plush carpet approximately in the middle of the floor. It is rather clean-looking, considering it is white and that it is not washed regularly.

To the left of the door is a leather chair, of which is of no particular use, besides hanging half-used clothes on it. Past the chair is my electronic station, where I charge my phone at night, and charge my shaver during the day. Also, center-left is a rectangular window overlooking our backyard garden and swimming pool. It is a pleasant view for a cold room.

Center-left and far-left is my queen-size bed, with white and grey covers, and white and other colors for the blanket. The blanket in particular has a floral design and is heavy. My pillow has a white case and nothing else to it. The frame of the bed is wooden and beige in color.

Above, to the right of the bed, is a narrow, elongated window, which allows one to view the sky and neighbor’s fence. On the sill, there is a candle lamp, of which I never use. I can often find dead insects on the sill as well, such as flies.

Below that window is my meditation altar to the right, and a small table to the left of the altar, which houses books and random papers. It is barely big enough to hold these books and papers in an organized fashion. My meditation altar is covered in a red cotton cloth and features a picture of my meditation teacher. There is a candle in front of the picture of my teacher.

To the right of the altar is my closet, which contains a rack of sweaters, a suit, scarfs, and belts. There is also a brown, lean dresser, which has the rest of my clothes in it. On the floor, below the rack, there are miscellaneous items, such as an extra blanket, shoes, and hair oil. Right before the closet on the left of it, and before the altar, is my tabla drums, replete with a hammer and a small bottle of talcum powder.

The walls are all white, except the back room, which is covered with a blue, mosaic-patterned cloth. The curtains over the large window are also white and see-through, which almost defeat the purpose of having them. The ceiling is white, but with black blotches above the meditation altar because of candle and incense smoke.

It is one of the coldest rooms in our house, as the windows are quite old and thin, and lack insulation. During autumn and winter, sometimes a heater is brought in to feel comfortable. However, with enough heavy blankets, sleep is manageable.

It is a simple room without much purpose other than sleeping, meditating, and playing percussion. But I am a down-to-earth person, and it matches what I need.

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Writing a Descriptive Essay

A descriptive essay is a form of academic writing that is built around a detailed description of a person, building, place, situation, notion, etc. The main purpose of a descriptive essay is to describe your point of focus in a vivid and particular manne...

Descriptive room essay The floor is pale and yet full of texture. A Berber rug covers the floor in need of a stretching. In an array of gloss and semi-gloss, shades of off-white cover these four walls and their baseboards speckled only by an occasional paint chip or faded fingerprint. Entire sections are hidden by nearly a dozen posters of varying sizes and of varying content, mostly expressing various political ideas, or taste in music. Shelves protrude from a wall adjacent to the door-- topped by a number of knickknacks and decorative accessories. Yet nothing obscures the whiteness of these walls quite as magnificently as the furnishings which fill the room. Standing at the doorway looking inwards I see the twin-sized bed directly across from me against the far wall. Its sheets and blankets are ruffled and in dire need of being straightened. Two pillows rest at opposite ends-- covered by cases made of turquoise cloth. This color forms a pleasant matching contrast with the darker blues that plainly compromise the coloring of the bedspread. Yet at one corner I see my sheet struggling to maintain its grip on a mattress-- a salmon-colored item that doesn't seem to match anything at all. The dresser is tall and quite old-- probably a 'hand-me-down' from one of my older siblings who has since left home for college or some other endeavor. Its stands across from the foot of my bed and perhaps four more feet to its left. Its brown wooden finish appears to be randomly-stained with an assortment of dusts and the syrup of sodas left upon its surface over the years. A similar piece -- a stand -- sits idly against a wall opposite the foot of my bed. Upon it rests a 13"- inch black-and-white television screen-- with dotted speaker holes carved out of its front. Oddly, three video ca ssettes sit next to the television-- but there is no video cassette player in sight.

In my room there is no stereo nor radio yet a sound of content silence fills my space nonetheless. I hear the whistle of a dishwasher nearby in the kitchen and the cyclical whirring of an air conditioner somewhere behind the unknown expanse of walls that surrounds me. Occasionally, the crackle of laughter or the murmur of conversation will reach me from another room. As I inhale, I can smell the fleeting aroma of potpourri sprays-- their specific flavor unknown. In my bed, I smell the toasty warmth of newly-dried sheets and by my television, my nose can sense the exhalation of electronic dust. The background scent of vegetables cooking fills my sense of smell and arouses my taste buds as well. And as the scent of a meal grows curiously stronger, I become more and more distracted by ideas of might be in the kitchen. This urge to explore another room in the house motivates me to put down my leaky ball-point, to rise, and to consider the other incredible experiences that await my four senses.

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