you know when you come home

I visited my parents for an extended period last summer, and when I returned to my home and community life, I felt the oddest whispers of nostalgia as we were doing things that I thought I would remember forever.

But I developed this roll of film yesterday and found the photographs that I took over the past year, and I realised I'd forgotten so many of these moments.

I must be living a life where timeless has a new meaning, where moments that define home and hope and safety are becoming commonplace for me. There are still things I yearn for, and it is good to have dreams, but there is also such peace in knowing that there is home.

my hidden quiet

I have lived in this house for over a year now, longer than any house since I "came of age," and the corners of it have become so much a home that I cannot even fathom returning to the country of my birth and having to let go of my favourite place to rest my bones.

the pristine quiet

it was almost a cliche, plumbing the depths of my past in an all white house, with space and quiet and tears, and the sharp tongue of anger that I had hidden from for so long, but there was a freedom, too, in the quiet of the summer, in the hush of freedom.

fresh breaths

In the exact moment that I needed a fresh breath, an escape, my best friend's parents claimed me as their own and whisked me away to a city stuck in time, streets I'd read about, a day without having to face the pain.

(Bath, UK, and London, England)

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

portions of my love

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

quiet places

I would sleep in the sun forever like a cat if I could sleep at all.

I am a little obsessed with photographing quiet places.