"Home, home, home, it was home I was wanting, and it was HOME I came to, brothers."
People will forgive me, I hope, to quote Anthony Burgess again, and his most famous novel again, so early after my last post in English. I was just thinking about it today: how long does it take to feel at home somewhere? I feel home in the flat where I am, I have been feeling home relatively quickly here, but it was partially because we had spent almost a month in B&Bs before we found a place, technically homeless (because of a nasty former employer). This flat was a haven. I think the fact that it took us so long to get here is maybe one of the reasons why we ended up staying here much longer than I thought we would. But I don't feel as comfortable here as I did in my old flat in Montreal. I don't think I will ever feel at home like this again. I usually feel home somewhere very quickly. In Montreal it was a matter of days, in Liverpool it was when I first visited the Victorian house I was going to be spend the year in. I knew that this is where I wanted to be for a year. But I wonder also sometimes if there is a day when all this will feel foreign to me and I will feel the need to move, not so much for practical reasons (although there most likely will be some), but because I feel it is time to find somewhere else. I wonder sometimes if it is not the home that finds us.
A Forest Bedroom
7 hours ago
Remarque, tu n'as pas dû endurer le junkie d'en haut à Montréal (du moins pas longtemps). Avant que son indigne mère le crisse dehors, ton "old flat in Montreal" n'était pas des plus confortables au pire de ses crises. Je ne sais pas combien de fois le condo à côté de celui-là a changé de proprio pendant cette période. Mais maudit qu'on était bien une fois qu'il fut parti.
I just bought a house, and as you write so beautifully this home found me. It was a mess, and people thought I was mad, but the moment I walked in the door I knew. Its as if it just wanted someone to love it, and it found me to do so, and drew me in despite the peeling paint, jungle garden, and worn out carpets. As you so beautifully write, sometimes you just know...
@PJ-J'ai dû l'endurer le junkie, j'ai même appelé la police au moins deux fois. Mais ça n'a rien enlevé rien à l'appart.
@Anonymous-The house I lived in Liverpool was an old Victorian house and it was falling apart. Still, I loved it to bits.
Post a Comment