My last semester at BYU I took a folklore class. I have participated in the final for that class almost every semester since. The professor was my mission mom in Brasil and for part of the final the class meets at her house and then goes to her neighbor’s and tours their place. Her neighbor is one of the curators of the LDS Museum of Church History and Art in Salt Lake, and their house is a bit of a museum itself.
What is interesting is that even though the tour of their home is practically the same every time, I get something different out of it each time. One thing that he mentions that I have thought about is he asks the students what their home says about them. What does where you live say about who you are? As I came home from the fabric store with a bag of fabric yet again tonight, I decided that’s what I wanted to blog about today.
When you first walk into my place, it would be pretty obvious that I sew. There is always a blanket on the wall over a bookcase full of bins of fabric. There is an over flowing bucket of blankets next to the couch. There is a sewing machine. And right now there are a few random boxes and several bags of fabric also in various corners of the front room. I sew. But apparently not fast enough if there’s still all that fabric.
Another thing that I hope is obvious when you walk in my door, is that I am a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. I have a picture of Christ on the wall right in front of the door and a wooden plaque I had carved in Brasil of Christ with the children over the couch. There is also a copy of The Family: A Proclamation to the World and The Living Christ that are framed over the couch, as well as a photo of the Winter Quarter’s Temple which I took myself. When I first moved into my apartment, the Elder’s quorum president stopped by to introduce himself and tell me when church was. It was only after he’d said all that, that he asked if I was a member, saying that he’d just assumed as much from my pictures. I’m glad people can assume that by walking through my door.
It might not be quite as obvious at first, but people would know that I’m a photographer. There is only one picture hanging on the wall in my living room that I didn’t take, and my brother took that one. There are 13 photos on the walls in my living room all together. I like to think, why pay to put someone else’s art work on my walls when I can put up my own.
There are 12 flutes on my wall too from various places around the world. Maybe that says I like music, or that I travel (my brother travels, he got them for me). I’m not quite sure on what that says yet.
I have two bookcases in my front room that are overflowing with books. I like to read. If you look closely, one is Church books and the other is children’s book, with almost an entire shelf for Harry Potter books.
I also like elephants. I counted once and I think there are almost 20 in my front room alone.
You would also know that I live in my apartment because it would practically never be completely clean. There would probably be a blanket in a pile on or near the couch because I’m cold a lot and like to wrap up in blankets (it’s a good thing I make so many). There’s probably exercise clothes in a stack from when I went running.
It’s interesting to think about what my place says about me and who I am. I hope my home is a truthful statement to my personality and character.
I will be attending the final again next week. I wonder what I will get from it this time.