Thursday, January 10, 2013
Asylum Walk (11)
My life, my house. The place I live, where each event (First Time Skating) or linked series of events (Childhood) has a place and purpose. Behind different locutions you hear the architectural metaphor: laying the foundation, hitting the wall, raising/lowering the ceiling, room for improvement....
And thus: The Den. The Rec room. The Cellar. The Closet. Renovating. Expanding. Furniture. An ornament (“just for fun—an elegant touch”).
But where to put mental illness?
Losing it (The House) repeatedly leads to a condition of vagabondage, provisional stints of renting, bunking-in, crashing...or outright exposure. Homelessness. Which is another, very different kind of home.
Different and not so different. Comfortable and uncomfortable. Hard to leave.
Or is one’s life a room in the house of one’s self? In my house are many mansions...
Or a snail’s shell?