We moved into this new apartment on September 1st, last year. After a couple of months of renovations (and frustrations!) it was slowly starting to feel like home.
Yet, something was missing. And I didn`t know what exactly that was until a few days ago.
What happened is that my boyfriend put these shelves together, then brought some boxes from the basement. Those boxes were full of books and little souvenirs.
Like that leaf I picked up from the ground in Crisan, Danube Delta, a few summers ago. It intrigued me it was all yellow in mid July;
Or that rose reminding me of a nice evening in the company of a lovely lady who lives a whole ocean away;
Like the canvases painted by my sister;
Or my diaries, the earliest one dating from 1998;
Like the (wooden) memory box that my best friend from Romania put together and gave me soon before I left;
The SF section on the left belonging to my boyfriend, while I take ownership of the novels, memoirs, journals and biographies on the right.
Unpacking these little treasures filled my heart with joy and, suddenly, it all made sense again.
One thing I find amusing: the 2 copies of James Joyce`s Ulysses standing next to each other. We bought our own copy from Dublin, on our first trip together, not knowing we will eventually end up together, with our common shelves, in our common home. 🙂
Life on a shelf. I love this expression. And I love our shelves! They make this house feel like home.