Inbar Lee Hyams

This week we're looking at temporary dwellings, the places we live for a work stint abroad or a week on vacation, in the spirit of Sukkot. (For those new to it: during the holiday of Sukkot, observant Jews eat their meals for a week in a sukkah, a makeshift shelter on the balcony or in the yard, to remember the Israelites' 40 years in the desert. Think of it as camping with divine instructions.) The instinct in a temporary space is to rough it. Why unpack if you're leaving Thursday? Why wash...

For years I've kept things because I already had them. A blank canvas overwhelms me, and constraints help me design, so starting from what's already in the house has always been my preferred approach. It's also the more sustainable choice and it costs nothing, a win-win that made it easy to call it a principle. Then I started furnishing my new office. On moving day I found nearly new shelves and a small filing cabinet waiting on the sidewalk, and free furniture on moving day is obviously a...

You want something from the place you live, and it's bigger than a place to keep your things. Continuity. Jobs end, children grow, people leave, bodies change. The walls stay where they are. Your home is what holds a life together while the life keeps rearranging itself. Witness. Your home sees the version of you that nobody else gets, at the hours when you've stopped performing. It's the only thing you don't have to explain yourself to. Becoming. You chose this place as a bet on yourself....