The walls at our house are looking just about as blank as this blog at the moment. A home, to me, is a place that reflects a bit of who you are and what you like and being in there makes you feel ... at home...
I have never been big for owning things. I won't say that I don't like to have things but I am not bothered too much if I don't have this or that. This last week, I have really MISSED my things. The things that made my homes in the past into A HOME. The paintings, prints, decorations, photo frames. They are all saved because each one of them were picked out for a reason, or given to me by special people or I really really liked them. They are stored all over the world at the moment. It would be a bit silly to try to ship it all at once. It would be too expensive and the common sense tells me that next time someone is coming our way or when we go to visit people to the parts of the world where my things are stored, we'll bring them back. I feel a bit silly for missing those things.
When I was little, I had a little box. Mostly I put there papers, photos, drawings, notes, etc. Most of the time it was shoved deep in the drawer but once in a while, I pulled it out and looked through it all. It brought back memories. Good memories. I think that's why I am missing those things. They are not just things, they are memories. I miss them now.
2 comments:
where are you? Now that I've figured out this calling-you thing, i feel such freedom and have tried calling you but alas, you are not there! Where are you? :)
Oh, and I like this post. I have always felt a little comforted by surrounding myself with familiar things. I hear ya.
oops, i was messing around with my profile the other day. That was me, Rochelle.
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