in the Morning

The day is just beginning.  I can see small hints of a muted grey-blue sky out my windows.  Sun's not up yet. 

I like being up before the sun.

I feel fall in me.  I feel of it's richness and depth - it's great joy, and sometimes strange pain.  Somedays, as I am driving up and down Parley's, I have been so overwhelmed by the beauty of the canyon that I have started to cry.

Fall time encourages thoughts and feelings of home.  I am not speaking of where I grew up - but rather, the place I long to be.  I love where I live - L Street.  It's the most home I have ever felt in a place since leaving home over 10 years ago and moving over 30 times.  I am happy with L Street.  Gloria helps this place feel like home.  Sometimes in the evenings, when I am in my bathroom, I can hear jazz music coming from her kitchen through the vents in the floor and it always puts a smile on my face.  I feel like I live in New York City or Chicago - you know - those apartments where you have the downstairs neighbor who plays jazz in the evenings.  Also - when Gloria is referring to the house, she calls it "our" house.  And it melts my heart to hear that I belong here.  I have a garage where I can park my car.  A cellar where I can store my things, a washer and dryer for my dirty clothes and a big front porch..

But at the age of 29, what I own by way of furnishings, is very basic.  An old couch, a newer chair, a side table with a great lamp that casts a warm glow.  My sisters rug, a cheap cupboard/table thing and a small kitchen table with four chairs that I got from my other sister, who got it from my other sister.  Along with a drafting table and some small, short shelves for some books - that pretty much covers it.  Oh - I have a bed with a nightstand.  I do have that too!   

I am content with my belongings.  They fill the rooms adequately and appropriately.  But the other day I was in my space, and feeling fall, I felt how much home I am lacking.  It's the details that make the difference, and it's the details I do not have.  I have been cautious about bringing items into my apartment.  I have thought I wanted to take the minimalists approach and have nothing but the bare necessities, with maybe one or two paintings on the wall - you know...uber modern.  Maybe that's my excuse for a design scheme because that's all I can do right now - minus the painting.  As I thought of what this space should be, but is not, I felt very empty inside and started to cry.  (so I cry these days!)   

Dark wood, floor to ceiling bookshelves filled with dog-eared books of all genres.  Pictures on the walls and tables in various frames capturing various moments of life and friends.  A big handmade multi-colored afghan folded over the couch. Maybe a TV on a small TV stand somewhere.  A funky rug that is my own.  Artwork.  Side/end tables that don't match.  Mugs that were picked up on various trips.  A neat sculpture found at a flea-market.  A mirror with a really random ornate frame. And old record player for your vinyl.  A small box that was a gift, filled with spare change.   The scent of apples and cinnamon subtly suspended.  A friend sitting on the couch, listening to music while drinking hot cocoa in aforementioned mugs, and talking about random stuff while flipping through the pages of a magazine that came from the magazine rack.  Wabi-sabi; the comfort of time, imperfection and familiarity.

Details make a house feel lived in.  Time makes a house feel lived in.  They show that you live life, experience life - and that's what I am lacking.  The details you can't force - they come to you as they will, but you have to be open to them.  I am not talking about clutter either.  I abhor clutter - and do have some of that, but it's very little and I keep it under good control.  I am just talking about life, being surrounded by life.  

*****

When I woke this morning, I woke in pain.  From the top of my head to the tip of my toes.  All in pain.  I got up and took some medicine and came back to bed with my computer.  Now I am going back to sleep.