I’ll have to admit this was harder than I thought. The assignment was to photograph something that represents home. I realized that even though I’ve lived here 20 years and I love my place and my life, at 73, much earlier places represent “home.” Tough insight will have to “noodle” on that later.
Then, one image wouldn’t do. Everything is always messy here and I didn’t want to show you that – but at the same time messy is home – tidy is company. Still, you know – you’re company. So I took a photo outside. The corner of the house, the rain barrel (desert), the mountains that ground me and give me perspective, the rose garden that cheers me; they all make me happy and they do represent home. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else – i love the desert.
But I decided, in a way that’s cheating.
Although I love the desert, it’s not the outside that really calls me “home.” So, I took a picture of my kitchen window, which looks out to the rose garden. I love the morning light, the tree, and the stained glass, depicting the Sonoran desert where we live. I was drawn to the light of the desert after some very dark points in my life in the rainy Northwest.
OK, OK, I’ll be brave. I was tempted to tidy up, remove some things that don’t necessarily live there all the time, but better just to show you the top of the fireplace.
When I first moved to Arizona, everything in my house was off white – the walls, the carpet, everything. It was like being in heaven – very restful and light-filled. I had moved here, leaving darkness behind and looking for respite and I found it. But over the years in the desert, you long for color, and so we got out the paint brushes and rollers and now it’s color and family photos and miscellaneous artwork gifts that call me home.
I take a deep breath. Aahhhh! Home.