Sliding into Home

I loved being nomadic because I wasn't distracted by life clutter. My identity didn't expand to fit my house. I was my house.

My shell extended to a very close distance around my body and I always took it with me.

I felt "at home" everywhere I went.

House-sitting gave me a unique perspective.

I came to love waking up among other people's books, pictures and life choices.

Every time I moved, I traveled a different route through the city on my way to work.

I constantly had a curious little voice in my head saying, "Did you see that? And that? Did you notice that?"

It made me take nothing for granted.

I wasn't blinded by my routine. I was never stuck in a rut.

I was open and viewing the world from many different points.

Simplifying and streamlining made me feel light and free to go wherever I chose.

With this lifestyle I could see the world.

My European day job provided a hefty number of vacation days and I literally had no "overhead."

House-sitting provided a service to homeowners in return for a place to sleep, which freed up resources that could be spent on "overhead" in other parts of the world.

As I seriously considered this option, a couple of nagging realizations surfaced.

I knew I was spending too much time trying to find new places to sleep.

I was also starting to feel my dignity shrink as sometimes what I thought was a symbiotic relationship turned out to feel, on a couple of occasions, a bit more like freeloading.

Not willing to stray too far from the lifestyle I was craving, I acquired a VERY cheap apartment that was destined to be demolished in about a year's time.

And yet, still, while I was painting it, I suddenly envisioned how unpleasant it would be to have visitors and dinner parties there.

I wanted more. I wanted a great home base, preferably one with a cafe style atmosphere.

With that, I found and bought an affordable, spacious apartment close to my studio.

I had rounded home base.

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