If my apartment building in Atlanta were to burn to the ground, I’d just peace out without grabbing anything.
I’ve been following the beautiful, fascinating Tumblr, The Burning House, for quite a while. Watching. Peering into stranger’s souls as they post photos of the things they would take with them if their house was burning down.
This morning, I decided it was time to take my own photo — to collect my own collection of things that matter most. It didn’t take long to realize that all but one of those things is in a storage unit far, far away. Aside from my glitter shoes, every thing I truly love is nowhere near me. In a way, it’s liberating. In the storage unit, things are safer — at least according to the philosophy of the Tumblr. But they’re also in danger of being forgotten there.
So, black and pink 80s party dress (single greatest thrift store find of my life), typewriter from Trent, wedding veil, letter from my mom from high school, and Grandma B.’s poetry book — today, I’m thinking of you.