I try not to make my posts here commercial, but today the
boundaries between my personal life and professional life are feeling
blurred. That’s not uncommon. As someone whose love of art led me to
running the company I’ve been at the helm of for eight years, I often spend
off-work time at art-related events.
Nonetheless, in a far more personal way, my two worlds are
colliding and combining this week. As
Artful Home is currently showing a collection of artwork based on the theme of
“Home”, I am feeling such an intense longing for home I can taste it.
What is home? Is it a
place? Is it people? Is it a structure? Is it tangible? I believe it is all of the above and I miss
it. I’ve been gone from home and from my
husband for 12 days now and the longing for both is deep, something like an
ache. As someone who has chosen a life
with nonstop travel, a life with tremendous perks and benefits, an exciting and
varied life, I don’t resent this. But I
ache.
Yesterday, a gorgeous, sunny, hallelujah-kind-of day had so many aspects of joy to it. The sight of a farmer’s market directly
across from my hotel in the park brought immediate pleasure to my spirits. I’m
a sucker for farmer’s markets throughout the world, and this one with its plump
tomatoes and bursting pastries made me feel right at “home”. A delicious bike-ride along the lake after a
hard day of work brought equal pleasure with its familiarity, its beauty, its
great-to-be alive aspect. With those
events bookending my day, I didn’t miss home.
Much.
But as I walk through yet another airport and see adults
clutching teddy bears, pillows, hands of loved ones, I can’t get home soon
enough. I suspect those travelers are
seeking to hang onto a bit of precious “home” as they embark for their
destinations.
Kyle Hawk’s sculpture depicting a home with roots below it, roots
growing deep in spite of the shelf below the house, feels just right to me
now. My roots are deep, growing deeper,
even if I am not physically home to tend them.
Let my flight get me home in time.
