New Home
For whom do I buy things, clean things, rearrange things, make decisions?
Ever since I detached from the former style of living and moved, the answer has been more than clear and very pure: For myself. I am the one who benefits.
The new flat is for me, affecting my own life first and is a vast canvas for my personal world building.
For a long time my room has been some kind of central chamber my life would spin around.
Now, I have expanded those chambers not only in number, but also in function: My very own bathroom, kitchen, living room, bedroom and inbetween room (I call that one studio, fashionably).
I had some time to think about the new way of living and was sure from the beginning: These rooms will represent myself. So I painted a wall red. Another one dark green, for contrast. Two natures and such.
The kitchen was red in the first place, the disco ball went into the bathroom and I have a fresh red toolbox for cutlery storage. There is music already and food and my carefully picked dishes, which have excellent haptic qualities. A Gluggle Jug makes pouring water a joy and coffee aplenty from my red coffee maker keeps all senses sharp.
Further plans I do have many, for when I arrive at the later stages of home decoration, but they shall altogether make the inside of those walls but one thing: Mine.
So that every guest and after all I myself can see who lives in there…
Canada
My Journey On led me to the next stop. Only one night I planned on spending there, which is a short stay, I know.
For the next day I would already go back towards the Fraser Valley to meet my friends after 8 years. So this one day had to suffice.
The reason why I chose a random spot for a single night a few hours into the country(side) was of rather personal nature and nurture: It is called Oliver, naturally.
My expectations of some rougher landscape and a little quiet me time after yet another long road trip were quickly surpassed by the absolutely positively gorgeous views and vibes up on the hill with the cabin and the lovely company of a truly Canadian couple staying next door, plus the overly attached dog I named Caretaker for obvious reasons.
As it was the basic gist of this destination, I indulged in taking pictures of all the depictions of my name, collected some broad smiles when I told people my name, ate pizza with literally Everything on it. I had the chance to share my personal journey of late and to connect with other people, which does make the own life all the more tangible.
This little part of the trip was just for me, and I think that was okay:
