Home

What home used to be

For the longest time I’ve asked myself: “Where is home?” And for about two third of my life I answered: “I don’t know.” It used to be a clear cut answer when I was small. When I only had one citizenship and lived in the same house in the same city for 10 years. My home town was Taipei and my home was a house there. My home country was Taiwan.

Where the line blurred

Then, things got blurry as I added citizenship after citizenship and moved around the world a bit. Moving between cities is a common event, provinces about once every 4 years. Countries… around once per decade. So you see my dilemma when I ask myself, where is home? I can’t really say that it’s the place that I stayed at the longest, not the country I was born in nor any description with “most” in anything.

My condo

Buying this condo, was an attempt at growing roots and to have something to call home, because I desperately wanted a sense of belonging. I don’t want to admit to myself that I only truly feel I belong when I am on the road, in stranger’s company. Perhaps, I prefer to be on the move because I liked the niceties of a newly formed relationship but dreaded the strain of hurting old friendships.  After all, strangers are nice to strangers and if they don’t like you, it doesn’t hurt as much because they don’t know you. I was afraid that I’d have to face the reality that I am not really good at making long term friends if I settled down. Or perhaps I find the same wanderlust in the heart’s of people who are on the road. A sense of carefree attitude that is unbounded by anything. We go where we want to and when we want to without following anyone else’s orders. Everyone is in a sense, the boss of their own lives. While in contrast, I have more bosses that have a say in what I do when I am tied down to a spot.

So I settled down to face my fear and made an attempt to do whatever I want with the place. My preference in life is reflected in the space that I occupy, especially so in the living room, where everything converges. My living room is not a living in the traditional sense where you get a TV and couches to sit in order to watch TV. Instead it has a more utilitarian function where everything is there to serve a non-entertainment related function.

I am a firm believer of less-is-more and have not bothered wasting time on TV for the majority of my life. The big empty spaces are so that I can practice and teach dance if I have to. There’s also the bowflex for muscle training and a projector for movies. The screen for the projector serves a second purpose for photography backdrops. The furnitures are as close to nature’s unchanged state as possible and are chosen due to their proximity to the ground for an informal and laid back environment. Things that are easilly moved around to make space for whatever occasion.

The Kitchen

I still haven’t invited many people  over yet, mainly because it is not finished. Nothing is fully furnished and nothing has been done to my taste except for the kitchen. The reason is very simple, my greed made me put all the cash in the stock market. Why the kitchen? I am a very big fan of good food as well as cooking them. So I am not going to skimp on kitchen appliances. Sadly, everything else suffered because of that.

The guest room

I’ve recently cleared out a guest room from what used to be my woodwork shop/ storage place. I figured that if I am tied down and can’t travel to my heart’s content, I might as well bring the travelers to me. I am offering this to international students or professionals who just moved to Canada as well as couch surfers if nobody is occupying it at the moment. Hopefully I will get to expand my horizons this way.

So that’s it, my little corner on earth, that I’d rather not expose, but glad I did. It has been too intimate a thing to reveal until recently, when I started having guests.