Somewhere between politics and pineapple on pizza sits wallpaper. People have strong opinions about it. Maybe it's because we've all spent an afternoon scraping it off a wall, or maybe we've seen enough trends come and go.

Once I decided to use it, the question was where. Every wall? One wall? Just behind the bed? After more mockups than I'd like to admit, one wall was enough. I chose the wall you don't see until you walk into the room. From the doorway, everything feels bright, simple, and white. Then the wallpaper appears. When a friend stopped by during the project, they looked around and said, “Oh! One wall. What a great idea.” That was enough for me.

The more I looked at the pattern, the less it felt like wallpaper and the more it felt like a garden. The flowers don't line up. The pattern doesn't repeat as much as it wanders. It feels alive.

Nothing in my home matches perfectly, but one room often echoes another. The living room has poppies—the first flowers to bloom after I moved in. The kitchen has hummingbirds and magpies from the backyard. The guest room simply joins the conversation. Different flowers. Different colors. The same home.