A home of my own - The Void: Mind Wanderings of a Lost Soul
emaleythe
emaleythe
A home of my own
I just watched what I believe to be a very good movie, A Home at the End of the World. I wonder if anyone else has seen it. It's hard to put into words what I found so satisfying about it, there were just so many things. Many it has left me with an incredible sense of longing. It's not really an unfamiliar feeling, but instead one that has accompanied me through much of my thinking life. I've found myself perpetually in the search of "home", and though there were times that I thought I found it, those times have passed me. In the past, I've always blamed the passing on my wanderlust, my sense for something else out there. Now I wonder if it isn't because there is no real place fit to contain me.

Home for me is more than just what is there. It has more to do with the feeling it embodies. There is no denying that some lands have a stronger energy than others. The type of energy is just as important. I felt very well in Boston and Asheville. New York City made me excited in some sort of bohemian way. Rome called out to an ancient urge, made me feel a bit Indiana Jones among all the ruins. And Glasgow? Glasgow speeks to this strange homemaking urge that I never really realized was in me, very "settled down" Betty Crocker thing. Of them all, Asheville made me feel like the person I always dreamed I would be and I find that I miss that me. I miss that feeling.

I want to be all the eccentric things that scream in my body. I want to write my days away into a blue haze. I loved the way the purple of the mountains seemed to color my soul. I felt like Asheville was the city that I would grow old in, one that would allow me to live as a cubby but cuddly old lady of brilliance with long auburn hair with gray streaking down the side. I always imagined myself looking and acting quite like Aunt Meg in Twister. Do you remember her with the beautiful metal kinetic sculptures in the yard. I saw that house and that character and it was like looking at my own future.

Now I wonder, what life have I passed into? Is that kind of eccentricity possible in Glasgow? Won't I just pick up and move elsewhere again? I feel that I know I will live somewhere else. Glasgow is not the home that I'm looking for. I'm looking for the home that I never had. Some have asked me how I'll know it when I find it. The answer is that you just know. The energy envelopes you, snakes its steam right through your nostrils and takes over your limbs. It's a warmth like the softest blanket on the coldest day. It's the smell.
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And another thing that movie brought out in me was an affection for Colin Farrell, which I guarantee you surprises me more than it must surprise you. Yes, perhaps he may be an alcoholic, womanizing ass, but he also is quite intriguing and just gorgeous in talent. What kills me is that he's so successful and has achieved so much to be just a few years older than myself. I've developing quite a little crush on him from that movie. Good thing Phonebooth is already on my Netflix list. I may just have to go a little crazy adding all the rest of his films. Damn the beautiful boys of film.

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Feeling: contemplative contemplative

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Comments
arcticnyx From: arcticnyx Date: September 26th, 2005 07:54 am (UTC) (Link)
I know that feeling. And I know what its like to find home only to realize it’s just a rest stop - a place to stop, smell the flowers and learn some life lesson.
For years I told myself that home is where you make it, where you hang your hat. I’ve been told that I have to be happy with myself before I can be ‘home’. But maybe, as I get older and more content with ‘me’ I think that it's something more, like some grand path of accomplishment or striving to learn a great lesson of life. Or perhaps a little of both. I had a goal a long time ago, I think I just lost sight of it. It got clouded by misguided relationships, finances and short sightedness.
What you say reminds me a lot of what I think. Sometimes the wanderlust is very strong and I search for meaning behind it. I envy people who know what their path is and are given helping hands along the way – I feel like I’m traveling blind, led only by that smell and these emotions. But that could very certainly be a good thing. We can only go forward.
Anyway, you can't go wrong with "aunt meg"! Yay, metal yard art.
Sorry for blabbin'.
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