Two posts about the same idea….
—
< This is from my blog entry today>
February 27, 2010
New York, NY
Home came to an end when I was 9 years old.
Home came to an end again a year and a half after.
I escaped home days after I turned 18.
Home has always been transient and mythical; constantly shape shifting and slipping out from my grasp. I cannot recount all the moments in which I have been lured into thinking that this place, this moment, YOU, is HOME. Then it shifts again and I am back in search of it. I have always felt that I am home in search of HOME, trying to find my way back to that mythical place once again.
We associate home with the trappings of Cable TV, Internet connection, running water, the first cup of coffee in your favorite mug, the smell of warmth lingering on your duvet and the bone crushing hug from someone who loves you. I have been shifting out of this mind set and trying to understand HOME is not a physical reference to a specific place but a state of mind, a boardening of the consciousness. Home is where I am. This has been a slow and difficult process.
Over 13 months ago I left a home that I had spent 6 years building with someone I loved. I have spent the entire year couch surfing from one friend’s house to another, bed hopping from hostels to hostels.
In the span of 398 days there has been 27 flights, 160+ of long distance bus ride, 7 Countries, too much Tequila and Rum, endless hours spent talking to myself, countless friends who have extended their love and support and learned that a life time can be condensed to 432 cubic feet of space.
YOU. My darling YOU.
I lay my head on your chest and listen to the space between your heart beat and I am home. Yet I know that this feeling is not just you and only you. I have felt this way before; with a different heart beneath, with another set of arms around me. Experience tells me that I will again be home, with you, with another you.
Charles Dickens said that “Home is a name, a word. It is a strong one; stronger than magician ever spoke or spirits ever answered to, in the strongest conjuration.” After a life time of searching, I have treaded the golden brick road and finally release the need for HOME to be an actual place, let go of any preconceptions and whispered the whispered the magic incantation.
I am HOME.
—-
< This is from “Fetal Position and Drool> which is a photo album on my FB >
I started taking pictures of beds I am sleeping in on a lark. At first it had to do with the events of this year and that I have not had a “HOME” of my own since January. Then as I thought more and more about it I come to realize even before this year, my work and my wonderings have taken me to many places and I have laid my head down in many strange beds, from hotels to hostels to hammocks to sleeping bag in a tent. Is HOME where we lay our head at night? Is HOME where we allow ourselves to dream and feel safe? What is HOME to you? These beds may not be HOME in the ultimate sense but they at least allowed me to curl up and dream and maybe even drool a little.
—-
Can we please have a conversation about the concept of HOME?
Its part of a bigger project that I am trying to tackle….
