The Smell Of Home


 The memories of home fell around her like flower-petals fall from the hands of little girls - heavy-handed and without reason 

Sitting idle for a while watching the world weave it’s webs - sipping tea, serenity, safe and sound overhead. Thinking of home and her mother's voice calling down the hall, she always said the world was big and yet far too small. Breathing in her lilac lair the smell of home fills the air -for just a moment it was there tangling in her twisted hair. She can feel her father's firm strong arms wrapped around her shoulders warm - memories wash up on her mental shore of when he told her to go explore. She swims deeper now into the dusty waves of the days when this room was a scentless tomb of dismay - She now fills it with roses a scent only hers something sweet to welcome her to this home now just hers. Independent. Her memories keep her smile firmly in place as she walks out the door to go make some waves.

"A parents job is to create a home inside the heart of memories so strong that nowhere can be lonely."

Photographer:  Michael Ivnitsky @mikeivnitsky

Model: Kamila Weigelova @mama_kamila