a home

i think i may be "nesting"

at least that's the joke behind why i keep buying more and more of the odd little thrift store whatnots and knickknacks i hope to fill a house with; stacking them up on each other and into all the corners of my tiny little basement apartment.

it's my justified packratism -- that i will used these teacups someday and those pillows are just awaiting the advent of a guest bedroom. so it accumulates.

which makes it more and more of an impossible (but imperative) task to move... and also seems to settle me here even more concretely. weird. tho, i don't think it's so much the things that do it as the feeling they connect me to of the home i will someday make... it's nice to have the dreamy image of my someday kitchen filled with a jumble of colored-glass bottles and plants and the library overflowing with a medley of books and curios.

speaking of books, emerson said of his house that he hoped to "crowd so many books and papers, and if possible, wise friends, into it that it shall have as much wit as it can carry."

along with wit, an inviting ambiance and charismatic ornamentation. that's not too much to hope for is it? tho i might just be excusing my collecting urges :)