no farther than the summer's edge

of door

for the past ten months, i’ve been decorating the front door of my apartment. Sometimes with intention, sometimes on a whim. The door, in a way, is the threshold between home and not-home. As it creaks slightly when pushed open, the sound marks the shift from what’s within to what’s seen. Here is where i hang up my coat — along with the self i present to the world — just as i step inside.

what was once a simple structure has, through this daily ritual, become a space of quiet contradiction — sheltering and revealing in equal measure. A part of the home, the door holds intimacy. Yet its outer face remains exposed to the world, vulnerable to being opened or knocked by others.

moved by that sentimental feeling, i began decorating it over time - as if offering it a quiet sense of belonging.

and this is my documentation of how i made it feel at home.

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