My first home

The past week has been really busy for me. For some reason, it’s always somewhere around the 20th that I get a massive amount of orders, so by the end of the month I’m practically working 27/7. This means, not so many blog posts or personal projects. But now I have something I’d like to show, which I have been working on in between all the commissions the last two weeks.
This picture is of my old “neighbourhood”. I moved out from my dad’s when I was around sixteen, and for a year or so I was living in different apartments belonging to the circus-school I was attending. This meant a bunch of 16-19-year olds, who, without any supervision, was living together. Half of whom had not yet learned how to make food or pay bills. Needless to say, it was quite a chaotic time. Especially since the circus students are known for climbing on walls.
So in the second year of school, I finally got my own, first “real home”. The quotation-marks is there because I don’t know how real a camping wagon counts as. But it was mine, and I loved it.
There were just four wagons on a small parking lot outside of the circus hall. In the winters it was mostly just me living there(because of the cold I told you about in a previous post), but as soon as it got warmer this was all of my friends and neighbours hangout-place, and we spent the evenings drinking beer, playing music and juggling.

Now my wagon(the one on the right), and all the others are long gone. My friends are spread out all over the world. And our hedgehog, Herman, is most likely dead.
I’m not too sad about it. Life goes on, you know. But sometimes it’s a little hard not to miss all those good times.

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