- January 15, 2018
There’s been a movement of ‘things’ in my home of late. It started with the tidying of my study/spare room before Christmas, ready for my Mum to come to stay – and continues up to yesterday when I was going through a stack of old photographs dating from childhood to ten years ago when I got my first camera-phone. I’m finding it very invigorating having such change charged in my home. I’ll move a box from a shelf to under a desk, and replace it with books that were under the bed. There’s a pile of things to go to the charity shop no longer needed by this home and possibly useful in another’s. My flat has become one giant version of one of those tile games you used to get in your Christmas stocking, with an image to be assembled and one spot missing so that you can move the separate parts into their right place. And I’m really enjoying it.
It’s always worth having another look at your treasures with fresh eyes. It’s been interesting working out what I want to shed from my life, and what I am simply happier putting away out of sight. I do love my blanket boxes, and they’re brilliant for those out-of-sight beauties. Like my GCSE certificates. Yes, I do still need them. No, I don’t know why.
In actively deciding what I want in each room of my home, what is on display, and finding ‘home’ places for those things which are not for viewing, I feel like I’m moving even further into the corners of my sanctuary. There are more places where things live and less dumping grounds, it’s becoming more like the ‘homes’ I loved as a child belonging to my parents and my grandparents.
The old photographs I found are today in an old photograph album. Next to another old photo album. On a bottom shelf. In its very own place.