some mornings i want to wake up in my childhood home. or walk in the front door and sit in the stream of sun that the cats always find. tuck myself in for a day or a week. the high ceilings and unending white walls that can still make me feel small and invisible and endlessly safe. there is really no house i love more. i'm lucky that i still have my childhood home and have my wonderful warm and loving parents living happily in it. for almost 38 years i've been coming home to it's welcome. it's timeless beauty and dreamy views. settled in the middle of 100 acres of farmed fields and woods and barns and a rocky quarry. this morning i would happily sit on the lumpy bottomed out couch in the kitchen that somehow never gets replaced. and just sit and soak in all the happiness in that room. or curl by the fire in the living room, reading, or pretending to play the piano. i'm tired this morning and i'm feeling it. but i'm heading over to the studio now to perk up and get a jolt of the joy back.
Toys In My Nephew's Attic
1 day ago