boroughs and bus stops

i met a house on a busy street

between bus stops and borough signs

and I made my home in a chaotic rush

and splintered pieces of my heart to leave behind

the home attached to my heartstrings

I have lived in the northwest side of London for over three months now, and I've gotten used to falling asleep to the sound of the train and singing along to the symphony of sirens.

The thing about this home is that it moves as swiftly as the city that surrounds it. These are the moments that have defined home for me for the past three months.

watching the sky for something sweet

I spent most of the break between graduating university and moving to London on top of this parking garage, at the edge of the university and the city that I did not love until I realized that I was leaving.

We sold this gem of a car on the way to the airport. She and I were together for twelve years. I miss her terribly. RIP Belle.

Southern Home

My parents moved to the most Southern city I've seen, and slowly, slowly, I have learned to love it.

pictures of you

I got to meet somebody whose work I'd followed for a while. We met on Tybee Island and took pictures and ate gelato and let the wind tangle our hair. I love moments when art forges friendships.

portions of my love

It's funny, the things that crawl into the corners of your heart.

twilights gone by

We drove out in search of the sun, without a GPS, without a mental map, and ended up with a taste of Georgia magic and a tank full of memories.

twilit flame

Karleigh and I drove for hours and hours because we knew that Tybee Island was at the end, and when we got to the beach, we just stared. It was like we had never seen the ocean before.

On our way back to the mainland, I noticed the sun setting over the Savannah River. Karleigh had never seen the sun set over water, so I stopped, and we walked out to a bridge and sat next to fishermen and watched the sun set over Savannah.

the next county over

this is a place I often venture to take photographs

all the haunts you used to know

I spent a weekend at my grandparents' in the mountains, and my grandfather took me on an unexpected hike up to a beaver pond he had known years ago. We found boys camping in the shadow of a mountain, and we walked together in silence, picking flowers for my grandmother.

to journey alone and know your heart

A couple of weeks ago, I had to get my biometrics done in order to apply for my visa. The appointment assigned to me was in a city three hours from my hometown, and I went alone, and got lost, and managed a visit to the beach. It's always odd to go to places like the beach, or a historic town, or even a rest area, alone. It makes me more introspective.

The self portrait in the mirror is one that I've taken three times over the past year and a few odd months. Every time I'm in the area, I stop. It's a growing experience. The first time I stopped, I was with my best friend at the time. The second time, I was meeting a person who had been close to me and grown away. This time, I was alone, and I was oddly okay with it.