He wanted to know the rest of the stories, meaning and reasons for—if there were any: for framed picture of a painting on table’s top beside hat stand; for the bowls in frame beside (were they handmade, by whom); of the black and white picture of street sign before brick wall (where was it taken, what is it of, what gives it its meaning and place in room?); for the hand-drawn rose to its left in hang on the wooden wall.
There was character, personal—self—in each. What did they mean? Why did they matter, even if reason was something small. Small is personal, attention and care for what others do not see.
In home in the trees, beside great hearth, he gazed on eclectic of lives’ and generations’ gatherings that grounded, personalized, gave character to place.
What were their stories? He wished to know, to go beyond write and imagined stories of his own.