i have only been living in minneapolis for 2.5 years now... i realized a couple of days ago, that my studio apartment is starting to feel like home. i can't really describe how bitter sweet a thing that is for me. i have comforts. fluffy pillows. my books. my paints. i like watching the squirrels out my window in the summer. most days i wake just as the sun is coming up... and i have a view that reminds me (even though i have never been there) of paris... rooftops of all heights dotted with chimneys ... their smoky plumes making patterns of all kinds... always different.
isn't it interesting what home is. home is a place you feel safe. sometimes it is a tent, or a car, or a hotel room in a strange city... i have felt "at home" many times in my life when i was the furthest i could be from my actual residence... because of my company. more than once i have described love, as home. i suppose that is true in this instance as well.
i live alone. for the first time in my life. when i moved in, it felt tiny and lonely. i hated it. i think it was mostly because at that point i kind of hated myself... my situation. i didn't want to think about who i was and where i was... what my life had become. it was a really hard time. now, i have loving memories of days in that space. i have learned to love it for what it is. a launching pad for where i am now in my life. i have spent so many hours in that apartment... painting and thinking... slowly making a home... a place to rest and reflect. home is something you can feel alone. i didn't think that was possible for a long time. solitude can be healing. you can learn a lot when you have honest conversations with yourself. i know i have.
isn't it interesting what home is. home is a place you feel safe. sometimes it is a tent, or a car, or a hotel room in a strange city... i have felt "at home" many times in my life when i was the furthest i could be from my actual residence... because of my company. more than once i have described love, as home. i suppose that is true in this instance as well.
i live alone. for the first time in my life. when i moved in, it felt tiny and lonely. i hated it. i think it was mostly because at that point i kind of hated myself... my situation. i didn't want to think about who i was and where i was... what my life had become. it was a really hard time. now, i have loving memories of days in that space. i have learned to love it for what it is. a launching pad for where i am now in my life. i have spent so many hours in that apartment... painting and thinking... slowly making a home... a place to rest and reflect. home is something you can feel alone. i didn't think that was possible for a long time. solitude can be healing. you can learn a lot when you have honest conversations with yourself. i know i have.
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