Home with a bump

When you first arrive in a new city, or walk into a building for the first time, your senses pick up on so much that is later lost in familiarity. You note the smell, how the space between the walls make you feel, the light and overall patterns. Once it becomes part of your unnoticed backdrop it has changed into another place altogether. Instead you start to zone in on the chips and layers of dust, you only seem to process what is at eye level.

Arriving home I first notice the smell seems different (we had been letting out our flat). Or perhaps that's how it has always smelt but I no longer noticed. The space seemed smaller than my imagination had allowed. But after a few days of unpacking, putting on music and opening the windows, it now feels like home. The walls are starting to feel less like an empty box and more like comfy old shoes.

Maya keeps asking where the light has gone (la luz mama?) when the dark clouds suddenly scurry over the sun. I love how the light is constantly changing, not the perpetual blue sky of Mexico. And I keep telling myself that it is a lot easier to work when the sun isn't shining, calling you outside.