Dear reader,
I’m the type of person that loves too much, that gets so consumed with emotion that it overtakes every corner of my heart, every part of my soul and suddenly I find myself entangled in the hurt of others, in their smiles and in their minds.
I’m the type of person that gives away pieces of their heart to feel for others.
On a very personal level, I see myself in the notes of music, effortlessly telling a story, free of judgement, flowing gracefully.
I see myself in the spaces between words, where the reader takes a breath as the meaning behind them consumes him.
I see myself in the watery eyes of the spoken word poet as he tells his story of brokenness and I see myself in the brush strokes of an artist so masterfully combining his colours.
It is never easy for me to finish a book, never easy to read a letter, or watch a movie. I get too attached to the storyline, too affected.
Art, in all its forms, speaks to the essence of my soul.
The concept of home is very fascinating, it’s an escape from estrangement, a safe haven, away from chaos, it is the constant in a changing world.
While home is traditionally connected to a house, I believe that home is merely a feeling, a feeling of warmth, of acceptance and of inner peace.
That being said, home is manifested in the things we love, whether that’s people, places or things.
I find my home in art.
I find my home in family.
I find my home in love.
Where is your home?
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