Just a box.

As I'm having a thinking break I will tell you about my tiny box project. It's not so much a project as a sidestep really, but still. Lately life has been catching up with me..and sometimes things surface that no one is ever ready for. Still, in the middle of it all there was always one thing that always captured my mind. The making of miniature worlds. So a miniature world I will make.

..box making..

Estella. Because Tess is lame.

And speaking of not being ready, this box is very much inspired by one of my first steps into the real world. At the age of 18 I was thrown out into the world to try to find my way and since my childhood resembles a Dickensian one, there was some missteps at first. I fought and I ran and confused and lost I lied to plough my way though a harsh world. The snow fell heavy and my 19th winter brought the change of a lifetime. I remember the stone balcony under the roof...the music and the smoke..I left my clothes and for the first time I knew I had always known who I was. 

My first place of my own was a 1930's wooden house with a boiler (for English information: a boiler is a sign of an unrenovated and poorly heated house). It was draughty, often crowded, dirty and possibly haunted. I ruined the wooden floor with my high heels. At times there were 4 other people living in that one room. We lived like bohemians in Paris on love and cheep drinks, with Victorian picture shoots and the occasional naked party. There was always someone stepping over my pattern cutting. We were free and I love it.

It has been 7 years..and even in it's rose tinted light I know there are so much more to living then that..the freedom then was nothing compared to the one I have now and the love didn't die. But that time defined how I want to live. So it does undoubtedly deserve a box.

To my love.