A room becomes personal when it contains something that resists being optimized. A cup with a soft edge or a table with an old mark can interrupt the sameness of a new arrangement.
The point is not to collect flaws as a style. It is to let ordinary use remain visible.
When choosing what stays, notice which object changes the temperature of the room. That is often the one carrying more than its shape.
An object does not need a remarkable provenance. Sometimes its past is simply visible in a rubbed edge, an old repair, or the colour left where sunlight could not reach.
Wear can make a room easier to enter. It tells the next person that touching, moving, and using things will not ruin the picture.
