My childhood bedroom is so small I couldn't get my tripod and camera in there (and also because my mother has filled it with 'stuff'). But small as it was/ is, it was my own little place where my privacy was respected and my bed so short that from the age of 13 onwards my feet would hang off the end (well I was 6ft 1" and then stopped growing). There was a tiny wardrobe big enough to hold a Harrington Jacket, and that was about it. Unlike my friends bedroom walls covered in page 3 Dollies and Rocky posters, mine were plastered with Averdon posters, landscapes and an image of the space shuttle Challenger at dusk I remember vividly to this day. The windowsill was small, but formed the platform for many a photographic still life making the most of the north facing light and a view overlooking the field with the gypsies in, now a small housing estate. The carpet was green, the curtains were green, and the bedsheets were green. The kind of green that resembles, well actually I cannot think of anything.
If you look closely at the bottom third part of the door you might see a patched up indentation. Thats where I kicked it after I my mother told me I couldn't have any sweets before dinner, or tea if you are from the North..