houses

It's a rainy beginning to December.  "You live up in the sky," David says when I descend three staircases to the warmth of the kitchen to put on the tea kettle. Some days I wear gloves in my cold bright bedroom while I sit at my desk.

 I am grateful to be in this house -- it is the most diverse community situation I've ever lived in... we are young and old, American and African and European and hyphenated existences, Black, White, and Asian, queer and straight, conservative to anarchists, religious to spiritual to uncertain. Living together revolves around the kitchen table-- endless cups of tea with a changing cast of housemates while we process our days and desires and fears. 

Realizing I am in Baltimore for the long haul has felt a bit daunting-- the full responsibility of belonging to a place-- and exhilarating.