I'm sorry for my absence. Once again. It's been a tough semester. And I say semester more as a time measurement than specifically speaking of school. Although it's a contributer.
I've been thinking it might be nice to go somewhere else for awhile after I graduate. I would like to do my internship some place besides Nashville anyway. And I think I just need a breather from everything I know. Not that there aren't many things that I love. But I feel like it's easier to make decisions about what you really want and what you need to change about your life to be the best version of yourself if you're stripped of everything else but you. A fresh setting. No strings attached. I could think clearer, I believe.
I love the writing of a certain flickr member. And it always makes me happy when there's something new to read. As someone who has moved many times, and in a sense felt like I've had several different lives, this little blip resonated with me. I've realized my definition of home has transformed from the traditional sense. I've found my home in a field where the trees framed every sunset. In a collection of neighbors. In an old dilapidate farm house. Even in a farm on Crete, eating cheese pies, drinking mountain tea, and watching my best friends Greek dance. I've realized that sometimes I find home in a specific correlation of elements. In specific moments. In random things.
"Look, what I'm saying is you can too go home again, even if you've stashed it here and there like a squirrel hides nuts for winter. Even if, squirrel-like, you've forgotten half of those hiding places, and discovering them feels like brand new, unsolicited luck. Even if some of those nuts you hid rotted, or grew into miniature trees. What, trees don't house? Tell that to the birds and squirrels. Get used to laughter in a language not your own. Of course you can. And holler from the front porch, fix your hair and hope they know you, or jimmy that window in the back."
❤love.
