What secrets does your house contain? You might not know, but your imagination knows for sure!

Writing should be effortless, not tedious, at least not until it's time to edit what you think is perfect. One way to start writing is to start with an image like the one above and let your imagination do whatever it wants to do, having no concern for political correctness or any kind of "correctness," for that matter. Once you have finished writing you can edit, make corrections, change the genre from story to poem or do whatever suits you. What I have written below is called a "brief writing" because I don't wish to call it an essay. I might transform it into a short story or poem at a later time or I might not.

Once upon a time, this was much more than a house; it was somebody's home. It is now the SC Welcome Center but it's still a house and like every house, it has history. Things happened here, some good but others, probably not so much. It would be safe to assume the homeowner(s) had assets of many kinds and secrets regarding such assets. But some secrets make beautiful memories. What secrets does this house seem to know?

I have a love-hate relationship with houses. Despite their calm demeanor, their historic value, their planks and stairs or other evidence of life well-lived, houses have personalities, attitudes and secrets. They invite us or dare us to enter. They can reveal a storied or problematic past or they can exude happiness and well-being. It doesn't matter whose name is on the contract, houses have a life and way of their own.  

Houses don't respect us because we hold the keys or because our blood and sweat helped make them beautiful. Houses do what they do--hold us hostage to a lifestyle, a person or a bank mortgage whether we like it or not. Houses sell or don't sell according to plan. They allow us to leave when they want. Houses are not owned; houses own us. They offer a place for our junk in exchange for sustained upkeep. 

Houses can become homes or they can be home-wreckers, depending on their atmospheric pressure. Houses begin to tell a story from the moment we arrive. Each window shielding some heavenly or burdensome truth, which is never shared if we want the house to sell or if we have neighbors who might tell.

Yet, we love and desire houses, working overtime to have one of our very own. Houses don't just look pretty; they validate our achievements, providing a habitat that reflects who we are or who we wish to become. Being validated is an emotional need which gets fulfilled when we make sacrifices and achieve enough to live a positive, successful life.

Despite their secrets houses are irresistible. They give us something to aspire to and something to think we own. More important, they give us a place to store and show off our assets. Most important, they validate us. So for better or worse, we need houses much more than they need us.