Instead of making the most of small spaces as these winners of the smallest coolest apartments contest do, I choose to leave spaces empty wherever possible. For years now, I have lived a minimalist extremist life - paring away everything that can be lived without which as it turns out leaves very little behind. In return there is a permanent state of rootlessness and detachment from the places I have lived. Like a traveler in transit, I am always prepared to pack my bags and leave.
My friend Estelle has a very tiny apartment and chooses to make it as cozy as possible. Every last detail is attended to until house turns into home. She has been a nomad for far longer years than I have and yet unlike me at every stop she attempts to plant roots. She will reach out to her neighbors, get to know the community and for as long as she is there act like this is where she will be for the rest of her life.
She often asks me why I don’t try a little harder to make the transient state more comfortable. I don't know which is harder, shallow roots that don't hurt to pull out or deep ones that cause pain but compensate by providing the shade and succor a true home is supposed to.
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