Monday, 3 February 2014
An object that makes me feel at home
Mentally walking through all of the rooms of my house, and at the same time reminding myself that the word home doesn't necessarily mean the place of my origin, I settle on my bookshelf. It's one item that contains many. I spent years after moving abroad looking through second hand adverts online for a bookshelf with character; my antique barrister bookcase back in Chicago, which may or may not eventually make a trip to Australia, still contains many of my most beloved books. I bring a few back with me every time I visit the US, and am amassing a collection on this end as well in the meantime. They needed a home, preferably one with glass doors, and nothing too new. It took me 4 years to find a bookcase I liked, and when I did, it took us two trips to collect it from an hour away (it didn't fit in the truck the first time around) and a lot of manpower to get it into the house. It's now a solid, sturdy home for many of my treasures, which include more than just my books.