One of my beloved song is taken from the musical The Wiz and it talks about the desire of Dorothy to go back home. Clicking the heels of her shoes, she started singing the song "Home".
When I find myself sad, I often reminisce the happy days of being home, of chit chatting with my parents, of my short mall visits and eating outs with my siblings. After a day's gone, I retreat to my place which had been my "special" home.
My living room is a room filled with great memorabilia and presents from all over the world. Gathered from my few travels but collected mostly as presents from friends and students, the living room becomes a literal example of a living museum. Paintings from Vietnam, India, France and the Netherlands adorn the walls while trinkets and decors from Nepal, Myanmar and the Philippines are some of the many that grace the walls and shelves.
The bedroom facade has been a rather unused space that I then decided to use for meditation as the light itself gives an amber glow to the altar that guards the entrances. During Christmas season, three metal trees are displayed that reminds me of the shining beacon of hope and grace.
The main bedroom is typical Asian in design. The custom built bed is according to my specifications. The Indian wall hanger is a reminder of my friends' visit to Thailand while the beautiful handwoven bed cover gives out colours to the rather subdued hue of the furniture. A small painting done by a French artist friend and a native lamp given by friends from Thailand are displayed on a side table.
The smaller bedroom is decorated with things Chinese and most prominent are two paper cuts from my travels to Inner Mongolia and Mainland China. The Ikea lamp is a gift from a good friend in Malaysia and one non-working clock is a small gift I got for representing a group of children and winning a dance competition. The bed is covered with a golden silk cloth typical of wealthy houses in olden Thailand.
My small but memory filled home is a shining reminder of my life as a teacher, as a friend, as a student and as a hard-working individual. To take them away simply means taking away the purpose of my existence. Though very material, they are the living reminder of what I was and what I became of.
your place is awesome. How I wish I also have a place where I can call "home". :(
ReplyDeleteThanks. Not much have seen my 'home' in photos much more in person so you are indeed one of the chosen few. :-)
ReplyDeleteYou know me and beds. *grins*
ReplyDeleteI am somewhat good with my hands, of amateur carpentry, but only to the extent of floating shelves and small tables. I do not think I can manage making a bed.
Someday. Our very own bed. In our very own room. In our very own house.