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There’s Some Place Like Home.

In Topophilia, A Sense of Place by Parissah Lin

The story of “home” for most of my immediate family is a story of displacement, migration, settlers, and movement. For my parents generation, this meant moving homes, countries, and continents. For me, this meant moving within the bounds of this massive country, from coast to coast, north to south and north again. “Home” never felt particularly permanent until I was …

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Fabricating Privacy in a Room Made of Air

In Topophilia, A Sense of Place by Jacob Ford

Four months abroad is too long to be vacation, too short to become home. The vacation bit is self-evident: a semester in Berlin is plenty of time for the monotony of the everyday to establish itself. There is a certain comfort in that monotony, that a place can be familiar enough to become boring. That, eventually, I could wake up with a …

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A Desk with a View

In Topophilia, A Sense of Place by Lindsey Chan

In the corner of my childhood room is a desk. A worn-down wooden desk with 2 drawers below. Despite the many different furniture arrangements this room has seen, it has never moved. I had grown out of every piece of furniture from my childhood except for this desk. Placed right in front of the only window in the room looking …

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The Jin Jiang

In Topophilia, A Sense of Place by Henry Choa

The first few months in Shanghai were tough. Scared to consume much else, I practically lived off rice and Sprite, strange men would rub my brother’s blonde hair in the street, and the TV characters that I knew and loved now spoke a new language. To make matters stranger, I only found out on the plane over that we would …

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The North Shore

In Topophilia, A Sense of Place by Zoe Zachary

The place I love is the north shore of Chicago. That’s probably a little strange, like saying mashed potatoes are your favorite food, but what can I say… Mashed potatoes are always good. My mom left Chicago for scholarly Boston and that’s where I was raised. I don’t think I knew an adult growing up who didn’t have a Masters degree. …

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Changing Homes Changes Us

In Topophilia, A Sense of Place by Maia Smillie

The house we are born in represents to many of us, a part of ourselves. Perhaps we have moved many times since then, or perhaps now the house is occupied by another family and, if you get the chance to pass by, seeing other kids coming out the front door is sometimes disconcerting. Either way, the places we live are …

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Finding Home in the Upper West Side

In Topophilia, A Sense of Place by Amy

Pico Iyer feels at home when he is surrounded by the people he loves. I, too, feel safe and happy when I am surrounded by the people I am familiar with. The place of interaction is just the space that these bonds are built. Home is not one place for me because I’ve met people that help me find comfort and …

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Past Home

In Topophilia, A Sense of Place by Mark Strage

34 Holly Walk is my home. It’s green shutters pop next to it’s weathered grey-brown shingles. 5 dilapidated bike frames line a sunken bike rack guarding the entrance. Evidence, in the form of a bent rusty fence, of past attempts to garden exists. However, it is clear that these attempts are not recent. A quiver of a half dozen surf …

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Five Midnights in Rome

In Topophilia, A Sense of Place by Moi Nihalani

Two years ago, I decided that I was finally going to make my move to Italy. I had spent a few months in the US, and although I enjoyed NYU and New York despite the challenges of crossing the Atlantic and adapting to a different culture in education and simply ways of being, I couldn’t stop thinking what it would …

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Firenze Time Capsule

In Topophilia, A Sense of Place by Jaisal Kapoor

“In its countless alveoli space contains compressed time. That is what space is for.” – Gaston Bachelard, The Poetics of Space When prompted to think of a place I truly love, my mind flashes back to a tableau vivant of ochre colored houses with slanted roofs, and a burning sky stretching miles into the future and the past. This sole …

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Big Houses

In Topophilia, A Sense of Place by Andrew Karpan

The house was coming up to view and I was raised along with it, gravitating inches above sea level; everything now coming into view like the first minutes of the undreamt morning, like the hints of light that sneak through the unveiled blindfold. By the time the family size sports van I was in had stopped moving its doors were …

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Reflections on the Skate-Park

In Topophilia, A Sense of Place by Dylan Beach

Spending time in a skate-park can be an insightful way to learn about the place you are traveling. The skate-park, is a typically unmediated assembly of youth (or at least youthful spirit, for you older skaters reading this), in that there are rarely parents or teachers or other authority figures hanging around. If the boys and girls in blue do …

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Deep In the Heart of Texas

In Topophilia, A Sense of Place by Prof

“Where the stars are deep and bright, deep in the heart of Texas” I grew up among the piney woods of East Texas and regularly spent my summers along the Gulf Shore between Galveston and Louisiana but, Texas, as some may know, is a truly gargantuan state. At its height it extended as far west as the Rio Grande River …

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Creating Place

In Topophilia, A Sense of Place by Kahala Bonsignore

The closet: with its door sealed shut, you can pass by unsuspectingly.  Shrouded in musk and mystery, the closet burrows into the back of your mind, emerging only when you sense something lacking.  Is it winter already?  You have lost your umbrella; you fling open the closet door, confronting a denseness unfamiliar to the autumn crisp.  Preparing for an onslaught …