I recently moved into a new place with a fresh start and lately I have been thinking profusely about what a home means to me. Its a place of residence where all of my daily routines take place such as eating, sleeping, laundry etc... but what does it really mean to me I thought. Looking into the past I found that as time had gone by and I had gotten older, I had learned more and more to appreciate having a so called "home." It's a place that I can always go back to visit family and old friends, and now it is also a place that I strive to create on my own. Now I know it was always the small things that mattered most to me like the delicious smell of dinner cooking on the stove, the familiar scent of Eucalyptus that my mother always had around the house, or the countless number of birthday parties and Holidays that took place, AND nothing felt more homy to me than sitting down to dinner with family. I am not speaking of the actual house, apartment or building that one lives in but all of the elements that make a home what it truly is. I have a desire to invent a place that makes me feel the same warmth, comfort, love and contentment that I had as a child and still have when I visit home. I guess home really is where the heart is.