Every morning I quietly slip downstairs, sometimes with my 4-year-old niece in tow, and open up the large cabinets as my eyes fall directly to the middle shelf. I have seen them all before, but today is a new day with new emotions, and I desire to feel the stir of something new. I yawn as I study the cups before me, all the while assessing my current mood for the morning.
Certain sights send my heart soaring, but they’re not ones you’d expect.
I like clutter. I’m not talking the “I should be on an episode of Hoarders” clutter, but the kind that is proof of a life being lived. Whenever I look around a home – whether it is mine or a dear friend’s – these messes always call out to me and fill me with warmth and joy.
“Remember there’s no such thing as a small act of kindness. Every act creates a ripple with no logical end.” — Scott Adams
Every year around this time, heart-shaped candies and bouquets of red roses adorn the aisle ways of grocery stores and phrases like “Be Mine” are displayed in shop windows everywhere we look.
And every year around this time, we begin our search for the perfect gift to present to a loved one as a sign of affection because it’s Valentine’s Day. That’s what February 14th is all about, right?
Perhaps it is the glossy pictures in magazines or the romantic gondola rides featured in films that romanticise Venice. Yet, as I meandered across the canals of the city of water, I struggled to find the romance or beauty in the maze of streets.
So, on my second night in Venice while the setting sun drew in to the clouds overhead, I entered St. Mark’s square. I nurtured the hope of drawing away from the bustling tourist-packed passageways that ran like veins through the city.