I’ve been thinking a lot about what makes my place my place, thanks to a class I’m taking. My first thoughts were the sorts of things stitched on samplers, sometimes ironically, sometimes with simple earnestness. “Home is where the heart is.” and “Home is where I keep my stuff.” and “Home is the place where when you go there, they have to take you in”
I like those ideas all simultaneously, but they exist in a space that’s comfortable with oxymorons and paradoxes. Does having my stuff there make it home? No… Do I have to have a sort of anchor person who may or may not want to take me in there? No again… Does the value of the stuff I store there indicate how much of a home it is? Not entirely. It’s a slippery idea.
What are the things that you consider key to your feeling that your home is your home? What sorts of artifacts would you hope an archaeologist would find and use as a key to your personality? Write about your home away from home, or your home at home, or where in your home you are most at home. What’s inside it? What makes it yours?