sunday thought: thomas wolfe vs. dorothy
04/07/2010 § 1 Comment
Last night, I came home from a not-so-late evening sipping wine and nibbling on cheese in the park. Walking into the front door my nose was perverted by a pungent smell of rotten feet. My roommate had just painted the hallway with a bucket of expired paint. At least it looks good — fresh.
I found my roommate sitting on the balcony enjoying a cigarette, relaxed and kind of serene. He had just finished an ambitious, two-day project of painting and organizing our home. With the boxes finally cleared from the living room, he was able to reconfigure the space. After his cigarette he wanted to show me the end result, guiding me to our common room, an imaginary drum roll rumbling through my head.
It was beautiful. The space had been transformed from a chaotic space of brown cardboard and corner occupancy into an open, airy, decorated living room. I stepped back a little, not only to take it all in but to appreciate everything that Tony had worked towards: creating a home, our home.
Some people have lived in one or two homes their entire lives, have had the chance to make it “their own”, adding touches of themselves into nooks and crannies. Some people have been on the road their entire lives, learning to live out of boxes and suitcases, finding luxuries an over indulgence only because things will always be left behind. It takes all kinds of folks.
However, I found an appreciation for feeling at home. My home is here for now — although I don’t doubt it will be forever. I sleep deeply in my pillow-top mattress — a purchase I will never regret. I have a small family who balances one another out — and both of whom will drink a litre of table wine with me. Our neighbourhood is residential and has a strong sense of community — as they will randomly bust out into song over Tala wearing her red dress.
It made me think:
You can never go home — the one you once had — but there’s no place like home when you take the time to make one.