I came 'home' last night. Strange how the idea of what home is can shift so drastically on where you feel good and what kind of conversations you're having. My home and my things became more and more invisible the longer I was gone. The 'now' became more and more visible the longer I stayed. Today on my bedroom walls, the art spoke. More than they normally do, they spoke and I listened. Like they were waiting for me all along. Is this how it's supposed to go? Is it possible that we choose to surround ourselves with imagery and messages that guide us for the rest of our lives? Cool.
|More Awaits Me There But Right Now I'm Just Going To With Here, Chris Johanson|
|Wonder Summer, Kyle Field|
|Mysteries Labrynth, Nathaniel Russell|
|I'd Rather Be Working (really? for now, yes!), Heather Goodchild|