Buildings have personalities, I’m sure of it.
I went for a walk this lunchtime and looked at the buildings. Some were old, some were new, some were ugly, some were pink.
I realised that a building and its surrounding roads, villages, towns, leave traces of people. Not something tangible but a kind of ghost memory of everything that has taken place there.
When I live somewhere, I put objects around. The best of these are objects that have been given to me by others. These objects (unlike the roads and buildings I walk past) have very potent ghost memories and because of this, because of the person they remind me of, become priceless artefacts. And when these objects are placed around the house I live in, that house suddenly becomes home.
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that is a beautiful coostiks photo.
and you are so right about objects making a place a home.
thanks