I’m at the dining room table. The table cloth below this computer is mine; bought at Walmart in Portland, Maine in a haphazard desire to turn my 6 week actor housing into a home.
The two candles flanking each side of this bright screen were bought in the Target in Cleveland, Ohio. A set of eight I set around my bathtub and my bedroom to give my apartment a soft, soothing glow.
The hurricane lamps were a gift from Beth, my voice teacher in Grad School. The sketch that Ron drew is on the wall in the living room where John lays asleep on my couch- which has now stood happily in three states. There are no lights on save the twinkle lights wrapped around the columns leading into the living room.
There isn’t a lot that is here and mine. But what is, has been mine for a long time. And somehow, letting it live in this new place is enough to remind myself that the heart expands ever outwards in our journeys home.