Saturday, April 4, 2009
Going Native
What does it really mean to be a native? All those primitive connotations... all those nurturing images... natal, nativity, nature. The place of our origins has a swan song, a deep thundering depth that pulls us back whether we remember it fondly or not, whether we even know our source.
I am a transplant right now, living in a beautiful place that is not at all my own. All the elements my desert upbringing made me long for are here: the fresh loamy grass that begs for bare feet to run in it, the fireflies caught on the bushes, the rainstorms that set in for days. There are things here that I never knew existed, ice storms that come in the night with a cracking of branches and wake you up in the morning with an otherworldly brilliance...the fierce and frightening tornadoes, the suffocating humid heat that lays like a wet washcloth over everything and makes the window units churn and drip.
I wanted this all my life, old homes, wet earth, mossy woods....or I thought I did.
Now after several years I find myself pulled back to a place I thought I would never want to return to. I have seen my mistake...I am an animal. I miss waking up and knowing what the weather will be just by scenting the air. I miss the wash of stars at night so pure and bright you could hike by their light. I miss the clean dry air, light as cream puffs. Most of all I miss my own footprints ...the feeling of red dust wrapping around my toes and warming my soles. I miss leaving a trace of myself behind.
Somewhere on this planet is the place each of us belongs and even if we don't know its name we sense it in our blood.
This year the colors and trends in design hark back to that need, warm rich hues, deep bright colors, russian folk art, african baskets, navajo rugs, mexican pottery. Each color palette a bone deep memory of womb warm oceans, undulating deserts, shaggy rocky icy steppes, verdant hills, cold black lakes, endless blue skies. We are searching for our home. In our houses we are reaching for our roots, planting our selves deep, reclaiming what we have always known, looking for a place to belong again.
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About Me
- Elizabeth, Jordan, Libby, Mom
- Mother of four, purveyor of cookie dough, interior decorator, activist, expert bed jumper.
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