There is a reason my tagline is “where the heart finds a home.” In my published and unpublished works, home is a common theme. Writing is a way for me to explore the idea of home.
What makes a home? For me a flight of stairs helps transform a physical space into a home, but home has also been a one room studio apartment. For some people, the physical space retains memories. Each corner of the room triggers some treasured memory of holiday’s past, birthdays, temper tantrums, homework tussles or stories read. For some people, the stuff inside the physical structure makes the place home. Don’t believe me? Watch an episode of Hoarders to see how attached some people are to possessions.
I am as obsessed with the idea of home as I am perplexed by it. What is the allure of home? Why do we want to escape home and why do we long to return to it? How do we know when we are in the right place for us? Can the place we know as home be the wrong fit?
I don’t have answers. When I look for them, I find more questions. This is good fuel for my writing.
I am leaving one residence in coastal Virginia for another one in Minnesota. (And yes, I do realize it is cold in Minnesota.) Moving is a time of tremendous uncertainty and chaos, but I am certain of one thing. House and Home are not synonyms. I will leave behind a house, but not home.