Saturday, August 14, 2010
Now that I am back in Phoenix, I can attempt to open the stubborn little doors of my heart and see how this simple little picture could sum up the complex emotions I feel each year we have our beach experience.
My children are all grown adults living on their own so the concept of home, our collective home, is really just a memory. But, each year we pack our towels, bathing suits, boogie boards and enough food to feed the neighborhood and spend one week together in a cramped cottage, with one bathroom,by the ocean. We laugh a lot, EAT
A LOT , get on each others nerves, laze around the beach, watch ridiculous movies and generally cherish our short uninterrupted week being a family under the same roof.
In retrospect it wasn’t so much the image of the sturdy rambling house that I coveted but the urgent and stocky red uppercase letters spelling out the word HOME.
In some elusive way, the word, etched into the photograph’s surface signified the complex nature of how we think about that place where people reside together.
I will cherish this humble little picture and remember our cozy beach cottage in Venice Beach, our home of one week, until the next time.
There’s no place like HOME.