Living in an empty house. Two mattresses and a chest drawer are the only furniture in the house. I wonder through the empty rooms. I miss performing the simple every day acts; sitting on the sofa, stretching my legs. Going to the library, choosing a book, leafing through its pages. Watching a film on the TV screen.
Living in an empty house. We use our belonging as an extension of ourselves. They represent us; the library shows what is inside my head, the furniture demonstrate my good tastes. The photos on the walls illustrate my creativity.
And on the other hand; living in an empty house reveals how little do we really need in order to exist; two mattresses on the floor, our clothes, a closet – to put the cloths in, food.
Our belongings are our anchors in this life. They are an extension of us. We see ourselves in them and they represent us to the outer world. Caged inside our heads, we need them to communicate, to represent us. Without them we feel a bit lost.
I do miss sitting on the sofa and stretching my legs.