Last night I was thinking about why it might be that I feel at home somewhere and not somewhere else. Is it just the aesthetic, the vibe, the people? Is it astrological, because my Jupiter is sitting on top of some region?
Maybe. But I think that for me personally, it’s all about scale. I have always liked small and cozy and cute. I lived in a 550sf house for years, only recently remodeling it and bringing it up to a hefty 775sf. I have always dreamt of buying an Airstream trailer to park in my driveway, to use as a guestroom/office.
And I have always viewed my house as a kind of boat. Everything has it’s place and must go back to stay tidy. There is really no room for clutter and if it is not beautiful or useful, I don’t want it. This is one of the reasons I will spend more on an item for its attractive packaging; everything in my house is visible, there’s nowhere to hide, and, therefor, it’s all art.
And then I come to Amsterdam. Thin, tall, quirky houses and skinny houseboats everywhere. I adore the scale of the city and realize it’s probably the same reason I love NYC so much. They are human scaled places, built for walking or biking or being on a horse. Everything is on display. There are no big backyards or garages for hiding junk. I adore it.
To Do List: