and the saturday sessions
stories of feminity.
and all the glorious secrets we women are.
as i take a slow start into the day.
still here at the kitchen table with my cup of coffee.
writing a list with the things to do for today.
like going to get bricks and wooden planks
because i want to play tonight and make my shelves
for behind my bed.
and it has to be a simple solution. not requiring constructive talent.
and then going to the office to get some work done
with maybe a quick stop at ikea after.
because if i want to make the shelves tonight,
a bit of light might not be such a bad idea.
is this when i admit, that after almost over a year of living here
i still haven't lamps in the bedroom
aside from my bedside table lamps?
nor have i lamps in any room of the house.
but that's okay. there's a white chandelier coming soon.
and i know just what it's to look like.
and all i have to do is find it.
but it's as though i can see it already.
sometimes, life is about just that.
waiting for that magical moment when you know
this is the one. this is the thing. and it wants to belong.
this is just as its supposed to be.
and i like it when belongings have their own little stories.
about where they were found. how they were found.
and sometimes they simply need their secrets too.
there's still so many things i need here in the house.
little things. big things.
but i've been letting myself find them as i go along.
or letting them find me...
letting them speak to me and give me that feeling of
yes, this is it.
so i'd rather take my time
like a little journey that unfolds.
yes, it's all still in the making.
a home might only be of brick and mortar,
but it's what's inside the home that becomes the heart.
i remember when i first moved here last year.
as i left the house in meissenheim,
i stood outside the parked van with all my belongings
and it felt like just an empty van.
i made that clear decision to make a new start. a new beginning.
and i took a few of my personal things.
tea cups and candle holders.
photographs and books.
an old chair and an old chest.
i took my clothes and diaries.
and an old picnic basket.
and a few things more.
but all the things that might be what most call the essentials
i left behind.
and i remember standing there thinking,
i'm thirty six and is this all i have to call my own?
there was an emotion that over came me,
there was the doubt, and then there was the anticipation
then i realised, it was the decision to call this my own.
closing a chapter. starting a new chapter.
letting go. opening up.
but im sitting here this morning and looking around me.
and i smile.
here on my old kitchen table,
i see my old baroque mirror, a photograph of a coffee cup
and then i'm back to that moment in paris.
i see my porcellaine bowls
that have the words desire and courage written on them.
i see the vintage glasses i brought back from ireland,
and they shine a beautiful light with candles at night.
i see my orchids and a new purse hanging on my staircase rail.
i see the fruitbowl that wants to be filled..
it's the little things i see.
and yes, it's the little things that make me smile.
these little things we find on our journey.
but for today, the journey is to the hardware store,
to buy bricks and wooden planks.
because sometimes you need that too.