Home is where the heart is

I'm pretty passionate about making things myself. Preferring to make my own version of something I like than to buy it. This ranges from clothes to jewelry to napkins and other house hold items and even foods. My little house is like my creative laboratory! On the outside, pink and inconspicuous. Shining with sun catcher glittering light flickers sparkling faeries dancing across the front porch. On the inside, a constantly chaotic craft paradise world of unfinished pillows, and ornaments, earrings, and bags and blankets and napkins, and paper mache, and paint. Brimming over with feathers and glitter and mini pompon's and googly eyes. Books on every shelf and baskets of supplies around every corner. Cats curled up at my feet or on my bed or sofa. Little toys peering at me from under the chair, a suction cupped spiderman climbing up the piano. Artificial fall leaves scattered across the tops of desks and tables to celebrate the seasons change. This is my home. Its old, and out of date, but well maintained. Its lived in and loved in. The place where family comes for the holiday dinners. Where we celebrate birthdays, and kiss skinned knees. Where our souls are bruised and mended and found. Our little part of the world where we are safe to cry and pray and laugh and let loose. Where we are free.