painted floorboards

When I grow up I want to have a yellow kitchen floor so that every time I go to create food, I’m stepping on sunshine.

I was listening to a song the other day about the best lovers being the ones who’ve never been loved. Oddly enough, that brought me to a place of complete understanding. Then in the same minute, another song exploded with a lyric line about people changing when they walk away. And how true that is.

One of the hardest questions for me to answer is where is home for you. I think my answer is quite untraditional, complicated for some, and maybe doesn’t often make sense. One of the easiest and most exciting things for me is going to a new place, learning and growing there, tacking pictures, maps, and dried flowers to the four walls that will fill with candle smells and my guitar. Opportunity for freshness. I love things that make no sense, not so that I can try to make sense of them, but to discover the ways they make me feel. Home usually makes no sense to me, but with time, I’ve come to realize that that’s okay. Maybe it’s not normal for most people, but that doesn’t mean it’s an incorrect way to feel and live. Moving around makes my eyes bigger, it makes my heart more understanding, and lets my feet feel productive. Perhaps most people would agree that settling down is something to eventually strive towards, but I settle wherever I go. I find and build community. I learn and discover more about myself through the people that I meet and I leave carrying that community with me, sprinkling it in the next places I go. To ask me if I’m going to ever “settle down” isn’t a question I feel is deserving of an answer all the time. I’m a person who lives in the now, loving and experiencing the discomforts and wildness of life, settling down just takes on a different meaning for me. Hopefully, someday I am in a space where I can paint my floors yellow, and build a porch with a swinging bench, have my own garden in my backyard, and kiddos Prance gets to chase around. But even still, I know I’d leave, taking my plant buddies, polaroid pictures, my guitar, and prance to a new space where I can paint the floors all over again.