Art = Home
I’m not sure when I came to that conclusion, that art on the walls meant home. But I did, and it was quite some time ago.
Today’s moving realization: I took most of the art off the walls in my living room. Though the place is still packed with boxes and furniture and such, now it looks empty to me. It’s no longer home, just a transient place, until I make the next home.
I got rid of a bookcase today. I’m going to put my curios case up for sale on Craigslist next. Make another trip to Salvation Army with things to give away. Keep deconstructing this place, hollowing it out until it’s merely bones again, for the next people to fill and feather and make home.
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