Started this 'wall project' recently. It's crazy how much time I spent deciding which of my many (many) collected odds and ends would make the cut.
I've moved to a new spot, city or country every year for the past 9-almost 10- years. Somewhere along the way I was deprived of that warm, familiar feeling of what a 'home' is, or should be anyway. So I, whether consciously or subconsciously, attempt to make each four walls that are temporarily mine, my version of home. Unlike TLC's Hoarder's, I'm excruciatingly adept at throwing my belongings away. It's a skill, almost, that one acquires when constantly on the move. In spite of that, last night was cathartic for many reasons. The foremost being that I have no plans of moving in the immediate future. Secondly, but also of the utmost importance, it was just Dave Brubeck and I.
This is not turning into a diatribe against the minimalist's of the world, considering my own underlying fear of ripping down the unique trappings I so lovingly hung. But it is, however, a sigh of relief. And while it's almost uncomfortable for me to imagine my body being in this room for more than a year, i'm ready to scotch tape/screw in/hang every damn bobble I've accumulated-and kept- throughout my travels.
Here's to a lack of spontaneity, hiding my suitcases under the stairs and becoming best friends with my Pakistani deli owner on the corner. That is, until the travel bug strikes again.
Currently: 'Suitcase,' Vic Mensa ft. Chance the Rapper.. (so fitting)
