In one of the chapters published this year, I explored the idea of the ambivalence of home, being particularly drawn to its ‘darker’ aspects exemplified by the notion of ‘sticky objects’ that evoke difficult and, at times, ‘dark’ associations for their owners, who, however, continue keeping them, as if they got ‘stuck’ to them.
However, I also had a chance to think about the productive and more creative aspects of homemaking thanks to the Everyday Enchantments Conference I attended in Manchester in July this year. Thinking about home as an enchanted space brought me to the idea of homecoming - which, I undeniably experienced strongly in Manchester, a place I used to call home for several years.
Below is a short extract from a conference paper I delivered back in July which presents a recollection of memories from multiple commutes, travels, house moves, and revisits. In it, I tried to capture the first moments of returning home from an absence, short or long, and recognising it in a sensory and embodied way.
I end this year thinking of home as a place that may not always be a sense of comfort and joy, but can still offer magical moments of excitement, familiarity and connection.
The enchantment of returning home - a special kind of place one continuously rediscovers © Kenneth Kajoranta
…So here is A returning home from the trip, maybe she hasn’t been here for a few days, or even longer. It’s evening, the end of the working week. She turns the key and enters the hallway. The house is quiet and feels deserted. There is a scattering of post lying on the floor. She leaves the suitcase in the hallway and walks upstairs holding the banister lightly with one hand. She pushes open the door to her bedroom and checks how it looks. She senses the smells, the room’s temperature, and the tiredness from her journey. She notices the half-closed curtains, she realises it's starting to get dark. There is a familiar sound of road noise coming from the outside. She takes some moments to observe the state of the room and the objects left untouched during her absence, the scattered items on the bedside table. Perhaps she should make herself a cup of tea or pour a glass of water. She walks down to the kitchen with ease, she doesn’t need to switch the lights on, and it feels good to know how to move around the house. She gets water and moves to the front room. She then settles on the sofa allowing herself to get absorbed by the gradual enchantment of being back home again - a special kind of place she continuously rediscovers.