Shadow box homes

A walk through someone's house tells me more about them than almost anything else.  At least if that house is one they set up and take care of.

Clothes reveal how I am feeling today or the day I bought them, but a house is a little more permanent.  It is the accumulation of months, or years of living. 

Everything has a story -- even the dust bunnies under the bed. 

The books, or lack of them, are a glimpse into what interests them.  I look at wall décor, is it from the store, or a decorating party, or original art?  And if it is original is the artist three years old, or a professional,  or simply beloved.

Pantries and closets and basements!  Oh my!  Here is a peek into the deepest darkest recesses, the closest I will ever get to the inner workings without words.

Whose photographs are in the bedroom, the inner sanctum?

What kind of religious iconography appears and what form does it take?

A home is a reflection of a whole person, whether it is a mansion on the hill, or an apartment tucked up in an old house. 

It is a shadow box hanging on the world's wall, a small microcosm reflecting the soul who put it together. 

I find them all endlessly fascinating.