A House And A Home

This is my favorite piece of art that I own. Yup, more favorite (that's grammatical, kids) than all the moons, floral girls and portraits of Fox Mulder and Dana Scully (you will be in awe!) by my sister, all the flying lovers, frog and gnome originals, by Miz Phoebe, all the dearest postcards, prints and vintage art posters, and even the masks my husband has carved. 

It's a drawing my mother made, when she was still in art school, of the first house I ever lived in.

The drawing is beautiful, but moreover, it means a lot to me, because even though I was just a wee bairn back then, I have really strong memories of that house. In fact, my very first memory, of learning to walk, takes place there. I remember a lot of things about that house: what it smelled like, in what order the different homes were arranged, the sun on the porch steps where the adults smoked and talked...

Not of all those memories are from my very early years, because we kept coming back and visiting there throughout my childhood, but either way the house holds a special place in my heart.

It's a pink late 1800s villa, perched precariously above the main railway tracks that lead in to the city of Helsinki. Still to this day, the sound of trains moving in the night is the most comforting thing for me to fall asleep to (I've since lived in a lot of houses near the railroad tracks!). The same family that owned it then, all still live there, which is lovely to think about.

I didn't live there for long, but often when I look at that picture, something about that old house reminds me of home, like it's a place I come from...