Minimalistalgic

I think my favorite part of making a home is when you just get the couch and tv in, and all you’ve got is a cardboard table and a lamp on a shoebox.

When there’s just enough to feel at home, and just enough that you can see the limitless potential of the space

Just enough to find your peace, without moving too many things around.

Big enough to inspire feats, but small enough to ground.

Houses are a lover that don’t ask you why.
Tell you goodbye.
Or eat up the delicious pie you made, in their oven.

Houses give you space enough to grow out of them, if you use them that way.

They don’t whine or complain. At least, not with this rent payment.

And for the record — the cardboard table was an exaggeration.

I miss when we didn’t know how good we had it.