Home

I’ve started doing some of the WordPress university courses that are on offer. One of them is a photography project. The first one is how you would describe ‘Home’.

There’s the home I have with my girlfriend when we are sitting on her bed watching something we both love. She inhabits the part of  home that is safety and comfort. She somehow makes me feel as though I’m invincible simply by holding my hand or lazily stroking my arm. We play games that make me feel childish again which makes me feel as though I belong somewhere, even if we’re sitting on a beach miles from what would be traditionally called home. The funniest part of this home is that whenever we’re out, around people doing all sorts of different things, we ask each other ‘when are we going home’ despite the fact we both live in different houses

There’s the home with my mum, the one that I’ve had forever with my two kittens that I love so dearly. My mum seems to make any place she lives in homely. She has all these ornaments and cute decorations that come with age and travelling. There’s this string of fake birds in our kitchen. It’s falling apart but I can’t imagine a kitchen without it simply because it captures my childhood. Something I’m still trying to hold on to. It’s the same with my cats. Turvy is 5 now, we bought him hoping he would help me recover from the loss of my first cat Gregory. Gregory was everything you could want in a companion for a child, and even now, 8 years after his death it makes me sad to think of the times he’s missed since his death. Turvy did help me in the fact that he gave me something to do, something to focus on and for that I am incredibly grateful. My second kitten is Cordelia. Cordelia is everything to me, she’s a fun-loving 1-year-old who loves cuddles and being around me. There’s nothing more I could want from a little lion, not only does she protect me from my nightmares but she constantly uplifts me when I’m sad, something I didn’t think an animal was still capable of.

Finally, there’s the home I have with my horse. The home that constantly changes and moves with my moods and his. He saved me in more than one way. He is such a character in everything he does. I didn’t realise people could bond so strongly with animals until I met him. I simply had to see him and I was captured in this massive beasts spirit. Unfortunately, I’ve become distanced from this as I’ve grown up, as my body slowly decides to hurt from the injuries I inflicted on it when I was younger I’ve lost so much confidence riding. I no longer feel safe and free but tense and scared. It’s horrid to have something taken from you simply because you lost fitness.

The more I’ve thought about what it means to be at home the more I’ve realised that home is incredibly subjective. Although many people believe home to be somewhere very real, a house or place. It isn’t the physical place that is home, but the memories encapsulated in that place, I realised that my home. It’s been demolished. I lived in this old rickety house with vaulted ceilings, made of mostly asbestos, with my brother when I was around 12/13. I grew up in that house and now it’s gone; so in short, I don’t have a home anymore really. I’m left with what I want my home to be. A beautiful cottage in somewhere it snows that feels like it’s warm even on the coldest days.

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