This past trip home was the most enjoyable trip I've had since moving away but going back always stirs up some sort of feeling. I moved away when I was 21, now just turning 25 some time has passed. I moved away part I think to escape something I've yet to nail down and in part of course to find something new. I guess I've always had a weird relationship of "home". I'm not quite sure what it means to me. Home to me isn't a specific house, a person, or place. Everyone tells me home is Illinois where my family and those familiar to me but when I'm back I want nothing more to leave again, counting down the minutes till my flight takes off.
I don't mean this to sound depressing, I think it's anything but so. I love my family and friends so the moon and back and where I'm from but they don't make home home. Home to me is the road, the familiar movement of the ground racing past under you, whether that be by car, train, bus, plane, or my own two feet. Home is the unknown and that feeling when you're coming over a big hill or mountain, when you can't see what's on the other side. Some call it a curse of wanderlust, I call it a lust for the unknown. I'm home anywhere but home.
What is home to you?
P.s. I guess if I'm speaking of home I should let those who haven't heard. I'll be relocating to my car then Alaska for the Summer. I'll be living out of my car on my twoish week drive from the Bay to Denali. Wish my luck on not getting eaten by a bear.
All Polaroids taken on Polaroid 600
1. Dekalb, IL
2. Mauston, WI self portrait
3-6 Garfield Conservatory, Chicago, IL
7. Janesville, WI
8. DeForest, WI