Window to Home
Where is home— the place that makes you truly happy? Is it a structure, part of nature or do you find it in an activity you engage in? Is it a place for solitary refection or for joyous camaraderie?
acrylic on canvas /20” by 16”/ $325
Three Clicks to Home It was easy for Dorothy find home. The Wizard told her to click her heels three times and she was transported back to Kansas. She knew where she wanted to be, where she felt safe and where she was loved.
Many of us do not have a physical place to ground us throughout the years. As we move from house to house and community to community we leave love ones and favorite haunts behind. And we learn to live with emptiness as our grown children do the same.
I was born in Pennsylvania, spent summers in New Jersey and went to college in Massachusetts, where I gave birth to four babies. I then moved to Michigan, had another child, before finally settling in Oregon. During my working years, my close friends were primarily those I met through my businesses. They were scattered throughout the country. But now that I am retired, we no longer meet at conferences to share a meal and get family updates, and they are not nearby when I need help.
What is home? Is it a building or a place where the heart is? Does it provide love and promote dreams? Does home connect you to memories? To nature? To beauty? I realize now, that over the years, I’ve redefined its meaning several times.
Today I see home, not as a house, but rather as a place to go to for comfort, to find happiness and to create memories. It is where I am fully centered. Though its location changes from time to time, it is not because of moving, but because my mind and physical abilities have evolved.
As a child, I spent summers with my family on beaches off the coast of New Jersey. I loved listening to the sounds of waves and marveled at the sun as it set over the horizon. White sandy beaches on the Atlantic coast were joyous places. They were where I spent time with my first love and where I became healthy jogging along the water’s edge after a winter indoors.
Shortly after moving to Michigan, I discovered a secret location several miles from my house. With my infant daughter strapped in a child seat, I’d ride my bicycle through fields and wooded areas imagining that I was a world traveler. I rode through savannah lands, marshes, jungles, mountains and farmland, all the while creating adventures in my mind that rivaled reality. These excursions enabled me to express the emotional ups and downs of raising a family. When upset, I screamed at the top of my lungs, at times crying until my miseries dissolved. When happy, the sun shone overhead even on cloudy days, and I was energized.
A sense of adventure accompanied my move to Portland. The forty-mile loop outside the front door of my new house provided a rejuvenating trail within easy reach. Unfortunately, over the past years, many people discovered my special refuge. Now, part of the 4-t trail, it brings hundreds of hikers past my door and compelled me to look further afield for a place that speaks to my soul.
I am fortunate to live in a state of incomparable beauty and it wasn’t long before being caught by a magical spell. The John Day area of central Oregon is my new home, for spending time there makes me whole. It is where I feel complete, connected to the earth and at peace with the world. It is where I belong.
As a city girl, the emptiness of the high desert was strange at first. It took time to be comfortable with traveling through miles of sagebrush devoid of inhabitants. But eventually, the grasslands, expansive skies with brilliant stars undimmed by city lights and wind-etched rocks holding millions of years of history, spoke to me. Hillsides are splash with vibrant colors made by volcanic eruptions. Families of deer unafraid of hunters come out to feed each evening, while sounds of wildlife echo in the distance. The high desert renews me and provides shelter for my heart. When not there, I dream about what I’ve seen and try to capture on canvas the emotions and scenery that remain vivid in my mind.
A friend recently shared that he too moves around a lot. He also does not think of a dwelling as home. When I asked him where home was for him, he said that it is the feeling he gets when surfing. Waves cresting under his feet, the vast ocean and his ability to move in harmony with the motion of his board as it sails towards land, provides him with comfort that has no equal. It is perfect.
Everyone needs a happy place, a spot to go to for comfort and renewal. Daily responsibilities can impinge on our thoughts so strongly that it is easy to forget we are part of nature, live in community and are a speck in the universe. A place to call home puts momentary concerns into proper perspective. It allows you to stand still, and though the world spins, you never get dizzy.
Where is home for you? Do share thoughts of your special place below.
Works of art are always for sale. Contact me at marilynne@eichingerfineart.com.
Window to Home
Where is home— the place that makes you truly happy? Is it a structure, part of nature or do you find it in an activity you engage in? Is it a place for solitary refection or for joyous camaraderie?
acrylic on canvas /20” by 16”/ $325
Three Clicks to Home It was easy for Dorothy find home. The Wizard told her to click her heels three times and she was transported back to Kansas. She knew where she wanted to be, where she felt safe and where she was loved.
Many of us do not have a physical place to ground us throughout the years. As we move from house to house and community to community we leave love ones and favorite haunts behind. And we learn to live with emptiness as our grown children do the same.
I was born in Pennsylvania, spent summers in New Jersey and went to college in Massachusetts, where I gave birth to four babies. I then moved to Michigan, had another child, before finally settling in Oregon. During my working years, my close friends were primarily those I met through my businesses. They were scattered throughout the country. But now that I am retired, we no longer meet at conferences to share a meal and get family updates, and they are not nearby when I need help.
What is home? Is it a building or a place where the heart is? Does it provide love and promote dreams? Does home connect you to memories? To nature? To beauty? I realize now, that over the years, I’ve redefined its meaning several times.
Today I see home, not as a house, but rather as a place to go to for comfort, to find happiness and to create memories. It is where I am fully centered. Though its location changes from time to time, it is not because of moving, but because my mind and physical abilities have evolved.
As a child, I spent summers with my family on beaches off the coast of New Jersey. I loved listening to the sounds of waves and marveled at the sun as it set over the horizon. White sandy beaches on the Atlantic coast were joyous places. They were where I spent time with my first love and where I became healthy jogging along the water’s edge after a winter indoors.
Shortly after moving to Michigan, I discovered a secret location several miles from my house. With my infant daughter strapped in a child seat, I’d ride my bicycle through fields and wooded areas imagining that I was a world traveler. I rode through savannah lands, marshes, jungles, mountains and farmland, all the while creating adventures in my mind that rivaled reality. These excursions enabled me to express the emotional ups and downs of raising a family. When upset, I screamed at the top of my lungs, at times crying until my miseries dissolved. When happy, the sun shone overhead even on cloudy days, and I was energized.
A sense of adventure accompanied my move to Portland. The forty-mile loop outside the front door of my new house provided a rejuvenating trail within easy reach. Unfortunately, over the past years, many people discovered my special refuge. Now, part of the 4-t trail, it brings hundreds of hikers past my door and compelled me to look further afield for a place that speaks to my soul.
I am fortunate to live in a state of incomparable beauty and it wasn’t long before being caught by a magical spell. The John Day area of central Oregon is my new home, for spending time there makes me whole. It is where I feel complete, connected to the earth and at peace with the world. It is where I belong.
As a city girl, the emptiness of the high desert was strange at first. It took time to be comfortable with traveling through miles of sagebrush devoid of inhabitants. But eventually, the grasslands, expansive skies with brilliant stars undimmed by city lights and wind-etched rocks holding millions of years of history, spoke to me. Hillsides are splash with vibrant colors made by volcanic eruptions. Families of deer unafraid of hunters come out to feed each evening, while sounds of wildlife echo in the distance. The high desert renews me and provides shelter for my heart. When not there, I dream about what I’ve seen and try to capture on canvas the emotions and scenery that remain vivid in my mind.
A friend recently shared that he too moves around a lot. He also does not think of a dwelling as home. When I asked him where home was for him, he said that it is the feeling he gets when surfing. Waves cresting under his feet, the vast ocean and his ability to move in harmony with the motion of his board as it sails towards land, provides him with comfort that has no equal. It is perfect.
Everyone needs a happy place, a spot to go to for comfort and renewal. Daily responsibilities can impinge on our thoughts so strongly that it is easy to forget we are part of nature, live in community and are a speck in the universe. A place to call home puts momentary concerns into proper perspective. It allows you to stand still, and though the world spins, you never get dizzy.
Where is home for you? Do share thoughts of your special place below.
Works of art are always for sale. Contact me at marilynne@eichingerfineart.com.