Of course it means different things to different people....no desciption is too literal, pedestrian, esoteric, general, specific....all are encouraged. In exchange for your defination, I will give you my own current definition via email.
Here's an example of an older definition I came up with....
Home is a mental or physical place where you experience a sense of contentment, is a place you want to be, a place you can always return to even if only mentally. Even if the entities that originally created this feeling of home are gone, the resulting feelings can still be revived. It can exist in the past, the present or the future. Home is something you want to carry with you always.
Thanks in advance for those of you who contribute!
This is significantly important for those that travel, be it in their job, or as a result of their roots (Diaspora), home is always and never conscious
Home is where I rest my head, when my eyes close and transports my soul to that metaphysical place...that place that never changes, that always feels comfortable, that even when they restrain me, confine me, steal me away under the bowels of the ship it remains the same. It is where the stars are the only roof you need.
Home is in the desert. I enjoy visiting other places, with lush green lawns and shady trees, or cool ocean breezes, but somehow when I've seen the windmills of Palm Springs pass behind me and roll down my windows to let the desert heat in, and I can smell the creosote and thunder in the air, I know I'm headed home. No matter how long I've been away, I still think that it should rain in the summertime, and that 100 degrees is nothing, and will occasionally find myself checking my shoes for scorpions, because that desert will always be my home.
home is that little town in the south of England
called Beck row, where the people care. Where the children
run to londis or spar to buy kinder eggs. Where elderly
drive their saabs and station wagons to Tesco's. Where the
farm land stretches out wide and beautiful. Where the pubs
are named after history and culture. Where people gather round
the tele to watch a spot of eastenders, brookside, or countdown.
Where black current and wild berries grow near the bus stops
so that the children can indulge while they wait for the bus.
Where a huge fried cod and large serving of fries can be sold
for just 2 pound. Where ther are no fast food resturaunts or
buffets. Where the paper boy stills rides a really old
bike, that u swear is about to fall apart.
ok guys im done
kinda got carried away
haha
there ya go Camelia
home is where i eat, sleep, play with my dog, pay my bills, grow old, use the restroom, have a few drinks with friends, laugh, relax, work towards goals, live, love, hate..., hate a little bit more, and feel like i will eventually die here. basically, home is in my little chair at my little desk in my crappy little architecture school.
Ahhh LameArc you make it sound so sad. Architecture school is supposed to be the best time of your life. Wait can you keep your dog at school damn I wasn't so lucky
Home is where I can be myself with no pretexts and no false smiles... where somebody waits for me patiently just as much as i long for him while i am afar..
home is the 30-45 minutes i get to spend with my s.o. until we pass out from exhaustion. full time work and school really sucks ass, i wish she'd quit work already and finish her master's.
home is where i can lose myself in the illusion of a perfect day dream,where i can dream the impossible without fear,where my footsteps bring me without me even thinking about the road,where all that is inside me can rush to the surface and explode...it's the place from where i can rule the world
Little boxes on the hillside, Little boxes made of tickytacky
Little boxes on the hillside, little boxes all the same
There's a green one and a pink one and a blue one and a yellow one
And they're all made out of ticky tacky and they all look just the same......" Little Boxes by Malvina Reynolds.
Full Lyrics: http://www.ocap.ca/songs/littlbox.html
i usually find home at about 10:00 at night near the bottom of a bottle of cheap cab. add a flick and a smoke, and it's better than home... it's heaven.
Where is home?
Hello,
I'm collecting personal narratives about place.
This week's question: Where is home?
Of course it means different things to different people....no desciption is too literal, pedestrian, esoteric, general, specific....all are encouraged. In exchange for your defination, I will give you my own current definition via email.
Here's an example of an older definition I came up with....
Home is a mental or physical place where you experience a sense of contentment, is a place you want to be, a place you can always return to even if only mentally. Even if the entities that originally created this feeling of home are gone, the resulting feelings can still be revived. It can exist in the past, the present or the future. Home is something you want to carry with you always.
Thanks in advance for those of you who contribute!
-Camelia
This is significantly important for those that travel, be it in their job, or as a result of their roots (Diaspora), home is always and never conscious
Home is where I rest my head, when my eyes close and transports my soul to that metaphysical place...that place that never changes, that always feels comfortable, that even when they restrain me, confine me, steal me away under the bowels of the ship it remains the same. It is where the stars are the only roof you need.
today it is Jamaica, I think
home is where the laptop is
Home is in the desert. I enjoy visiting other places, with lush green lawns and shady trees, or cool ocean breezes, but somehow when I've seen the windmills of Palm Springs pass behind me and roll down my windows to let the desert heat in, and I can smell the creosote and thunder in the air, I know I'm headed home. No matter how long I've been away, I still think that it should rain in the summertime, and that 100 degrees is nothing, and will occasionally find myself checking my shoes for scorpions, because that desert will always be my home.
home is that little town in the south of England
called Beck row, where the people care. Where the children
run to londis or spar to buy kinder eggs. Where elderly
drive their saabs and station wagons to Tesco's. Where the
farm land stretches out wide and beautiful. Where the pubs
are named after history and culture. Where people gather round
the tele to watch a spot of eastenders, brookside, or countdown.
Where black current and wild berries grow near the bus stops
so that the children can indulge while they wait for the bus.
Where a huge fried cod and large serving of fries can be sold
for just 2 pound. Where ther are no fast food resturaunts or
buffets. Where the paper boy stills rides a really old
bike, that u swear is about to fall apart.
ok guys im done
kinda got carried away
haha
there ya go Camelia
Phil
Home is were I feel safe. Or hanging out with Tina Weymouth.
Home is the datum from which your dominant social network is referenced.
That too. Well, mostly that.
Home is the place that will probably never quite be done with construction, because if I ever actually finish a house I'll be bored.
tina weymouth can be my archinect wife anyday. well, at least from a 25 year old video clip. she's prolly all craggy now...
home is where i eat, sleep, play with my dog, pay my bills, grow old, use the restroom, have a few drinks with friends, laugh, relax, work towards goals, live, love, hate..., hate a little bit more, and feel like i will eventually die here. basically, home is in my little chair at my little desk in my crappy little architecture school.
Ahhh LameArc you make it sound so sad. Architecture school is supposed to be the best time of your life. Wait can you keep your dog at school damn I wasn't so lucky
home is where peace of mind is
home was a spectacular sunrise painted in a frame 11'-6" x 9'-7"
Home is whereever I am at the time.
vado, Tina has two sons both in bands. They must like their mom.
Home is where I can be myself with no pretexts and no false smiles... where somebody waits for me patiently just as much as i long for him while i am afar..
nice one Ana G.
home is the 30-45 minutes i get to spend with my s.o. until we pass out from exhaustion. full time work and school really sucks ass, i wish she'd quit work already and finish her master's.
home is anywhere i am where even the strangest or most extrodinary things become ordinary, but still interesting
home is also badly in need of a clean because im at work too dam much and my housemates are lazy
For a welsh man its the land of my fathers, to quote Tom - 'the green green grass of home' and I don't mean the herbal stuff.
Home = Nation
camelia, this book might interest you
i'm with Medusa - home is ever-present.
this of course, is an ideal, not easily achieved.
home is the atlanta international airport
Home was a place far from where the military would frequently send me. Home was security.
Home is what I pay taxes for every single year I'm alive.
This home, sitting on top of this scared butte on a warm summer day watching the eagles soar....it was my childhood and will always be home.
snooker where is that?
Home is my mom's paella, my dad's laughter, my sister's stories.
Sacred Ground to the Native American Indians in western South Dakota.
Home is where your dog is.
home is where i can walk in the door after a long day, and immediately shed my pants.
where i lay my head is home
Home is where i download excess amounts of Metallica songs for free using Napster, bossman??
home is where i can lose myself in the illusion of a perfect day dream,where i can dream the impossible without fear,where my footsteps bring me without me even thinking about the road,where all that is inside me can rush to the surface and explode...it's the place from where i can rule the world
GET THE RUBEN
My childhood home/neighbohood....
Little boxes on the hillside, Little boxes made of tickytacky
Little boxes on the hillside, little boxes all the same
There's a green one and a pink one and a blue one and a yellow one
And they're all made out of ticky tacky and they all look just the same......" Little Boxes by Malvina Reynolds.
Full Lyrics:
http://www.ocap.ca/songs/littlbox.html
Image Source:http://www.affordablehousinginstitute.org/blogs/us/daly_city_california_small.jpg
For what it's worth, growing up in this monotonous environment helped inspire me to become an architect....
SNOOKER!! Greetings to a fellow SoDakian..
i am in Spearfish,SD but that's not my home...
i usually find home at about 10:00 at night near the bottom of a bottle of cheap cab. add a flick and a smoke, and it's better than home... it's heaven.
sandmansd....Yup I'm part of the Lost Tribe....Now in New England.
somehow i got sucked back after i finished school... but i'm sure i will venture out again.
paha sapa will always be my home, even when i live somewhere else. this isn't the most glamorous place to live... but i think it has real potential.
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