Where Is Home?

Plus a big ass photo dump

I’ve been thinking about home lately. As a literal place, a figurative place, a country.

While I am lucky enough to still have my actual home—unlike some of my peers who lost theirs in the fires—I still feel like the terra is not firma around me.

(You know what? I hate that sentence because it feels like something Carrie Bradshaw would write.)

The difference between losing the first parent and the second is exponential. For me it has been, at least. I could imagine scenarios where it isn’t but I bet it commonly is.