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I'm moving in three days -- out of the city and back to the island I grew up on. I got a job on a children's television show, which takes place over July and August -- at which point I'll come back to the city for September and find a new place.

I love moving. As a child my family moved constantly - renting always gave us the freedom for variety and escape. Every two years or so we would pack up and try another house in a different part of the city, or in the country, or by the ocean. Never anything terribly fancy, but these times were a highlights of my youth -- exploring the large empty rooms upon arrival -- the entire house always seemed so much bigger with nothing in it. Discovering the garden, the neighbourhood -- everything was so fresh and promising.

When I moved out on my own, I continued to follow my nomadic inclinations, but to a more frequent degree. I tried sublets -- living in the comfortable unfamiliarity of another's home for months at a time -- and avoided leases like the plague. Still, the one thing I always find myself missing, especially now realizing that together my boyfriend and I barely have enough possessions to fill the back of a van, is a more personal space -- something I created. I'm so used to white walls, spareness -- not making commitments even to put up art or posters on the wall.

Lately I've been pining over photos of interior design -- minimalistic rooms that are comfortable and convey the intentions and personality of the one who lives there. When I move back to Vancouver this fall, I plan to spend time making my new apartment an actual home -- not just a place of temporary residence. I don't plan on settling down anytime soon, but I want to invest in elements that I can take with me -- and really brings a sense of permanence to the next place I live.