Emilia’s Rolling Stone Shrine

“ALL IN ALL IT’S JUST ANOTHER PHOTO ON MY WALL…”

I am a huge fan of Rolling Stone. The first issue I ever read was when I was deeply obsessed with Green Day. I saw Billie Joe, Mike and Tré on the cover of the February 2005 issue in all their glory: their black eyeliner and rebellious punk rock attire bursting from the page. I opened the cover, and that was the beginning of my addiction to Rolling Stone.

I remember the day my Rolling Stone wall was born. I was in a state of complete boredom. I was sitting in my room on my bed, contemplating life, and my eyes were wandering around my unusually messy room, the half-eaten sandwich at the foot of my bed, and my barren, mundane four walls. Then I caught sight of an issue of Rolling Stone sitting in the corner. The White Stripes were on the cover, looking immortally cool, as usual, and an idea hit me. I glanced from the magazine, to my wall, then back to the magazine, and I got up so fast I nearly stepped on my sandwich.

I ran downstairs in a frenzy, gathering every issue of Rolling Stone I could find — and believe me there was no short supply. Then, I dragged my treasure of fabulous pictures back to my room and immediately began tearing out pages and pages of pictures of my greatest rock heroes, cutting them out and taping them up on my wall in a collage. It was like I was possessed and I couldn’t stop myself. Before I knew it, it was 2:00 in the morning, and 4 square feet of my wall was plastered with my heroes. What was once a pale, dull wall was quickly turning into a rock and roll circus of color and creativity.

The next morning, my mom came in to get me up for school, and instead of “Good morning, dear”, I was awakened with a bellowing, “Emilia, what the #@%!! did you do??” This was followed by fifteen minutes of explanation on my part: calming my mother’s rage and assuring her that, no, the tape would not rip the paint off the walls.

Since that night of spontaneous creative inspiration, I have anxiously awaited every issue of Rolling Stone, read through it ravenously, then dismantled it, cut out my favorite photos and headings, and taped them on my wall with loving care. The wall has grown significantly since the first day, and ever since it began, I’ve noticed that my friends have become significantly quieter when they come into my room. They simply gaze at the wall, nodding in approval of my musical taste, and sometimes shaking their head in awe.

Now, when I’m alone in my room, I don’t suffer through bouts of boredom because I have my rock and roll heroes to keep me company. I look to these faces that mean so much to me for inspiration and guidance. I thank Rolling Stone for giving me these edgy and wonderful pictures and never failing to deliver a great magazine that keeps me entertained for weeks and gives me what I need to keep my rock and roll collage growing — until the day it covers every inch of my room.