home hounds me in the constructs of feelings i forget even exist. home hides behind my day-to-day, behind the insignificance of the things i occupy myself with, behind things that mean so much just for what they mean. home finds me in the moments i want to disappear, and never lets me. it pulls me back to a hollowness i know exists without all the beautiful things that home represents. and i’m eternally reminded of the stifling nature that life as i knew it brought upon itself.

i caught a plane and flew faithfully on the whimsical winds of wanderlust. i left ready to find myself.
searching for something.

i ache to feel more than i know i can feel, to believe in the magic of the universe, to experience the unknown and discover comfort in moments of unease and doubt. to learn how to float when i fear i’ll drown. how to fight my way out of the space where i fatigue and fall, how to beat down barriers and push on into the light. and then there’s home, a place where nostalgia brews, a place i dream of in waves of sickness and despair. a place that will always be there. where all my loves wait so patiently for my return.

minute by minute my spirit softens and strengthens.

home will always hound me, a gentle reminder to live with kindness, grace and purpose. so i reassess from time to time and remember why i’m here. i’ve changed the focus, changed the reason. changed what i want from this. and i’m okay with that because things change and people change and relationships change and life changes every second of every day so i relax and accept what’s happening all around me at any given moment.
i run free
fly wide-eyed
into a void i know nothing about. i fill it with love love love and memories born from purity and moments of
and joy
and divinity.


they live in a tent, on the side of the road. a mother of two and a bump for another, so nearly here. the father stood, with a shopping cart and tired eyes, outside the canvas they call their home.

she smiled so gratefully as we passed her some clothes and passed her son, maybe five, some toys.

‘thaaank you, verrry much!’ he said with the melodic bubbling of a child’s happiness. a grin spread so wide across his little face.

she sat in their home and fed her youngest, he stood shakily and watched on with bright eyes. i smiled at him and he smiled back, toothless, joyful.

rain began to gently fall.

the family of nearly five, in a tent for a home on the side of the road. a footpath for a mattress and a zip for their front door.

the sun is shining

give me two minutes?

that’s all, i ask. two minutes to tell you everything i can!

it’s nothing like i could have imagined. it’s better, times a trillion.

there’s something to be said, for exploring with your best friend – in a city you’ve never known, but one that feels like home.

i can’t explain just what i think, but i hope you understand. it’s london and the sun is shining and it feels so much like home.

the yellow brick road.

i’m home.

it’s done.

and i don’t want to write.

the journey back/home stretch/final leg was so much more than i expected. as close to perfect as i could have wished for. every moment enjoyed, no regrets, filled to bursting point. the pieces of the puzzle are finding their place.

it’s great to be back.


there is a spider web outside my window. it’s shiny in the sun, invisible in the shade. a tiny spider lives there. he’s caught a couple things in his web. probably flies, i would say. this tiny spider wove his web from a tree to a pot plant, a table to a tree, a tree to a chair. clever little spider, weaving such a big home.

in a way, we’re all weaving throughout our lives: career, home, partner, kids, family, friends, passions. they’re all part of our fragile web. in some places, it seems weak, as if the slightest breeze will break the thread. those are the parts that don’t matter so much. right in the centre is the strongest. where family and love and the truly important things rest. certain. unbending.

my web is still being woven. shaped by things around me, people, places, experiences. i don’t know what it will end up looking like. but i hope, like the spider, it’s strong in the middle. catching all the things i need the most.

chocolate heals all? we’ll see.

i am waiting for tim tams. it’s 12:14am and i am waiting for tim tams. tim tams. tim tams. tim tams. well, tim tam…

you can probably tell it’s past my bed time. delirium kicks in. excitement because i can’t be tired anymore. there’s just no reason to be awake except for a bit of sugar i can probably do without and will only make me stay up later anyway. conundrum.

so, as i sit and wait for my tim tam, (for which my craving is now gone), i sit with my computer and think. i think about lots of things. food (obviously). people. tomorrow. whether i will get up and go for a walk on the beach in the morning. or sleep in and feel guilty when i see the beautiful day outside. life is full of tough decisions.

i was a little homesick this morning. missing tea and breakfast and chats with mum, and the day planned to a tee. without distraction or obstacles. you know, a boring day. but i woke late and i felt that guilty feeling and i rolled over, smiled, heard the sprinklers and thought of home. i don’t miss home. but at the same time, i miss feeling at home. don’t get me wrong, i do here, more and more everyday. but different people, different cultures, different food. different life. yes, i like it. i’m not complaining.

i’m just saying…

and perhaps i shouldn’t. perhaps i’m not meant to feel this feeling yet. perhaps it’s all too soon and i should think about something else and run away and let it be. whatever happens, happens. and all for a reason. but it’s something i want. something i miss. i can’t forget about it. can’t just think about something else. it’s not going away.

it’s gnawing at the back of my neck, in my heart, everyday. ache. not heavy, thank goodness. just dull. but strong enough to notice it’s missing.

yum yum tim tam.


i leave in a month. one month. one, tiny month. and, i return in four…

it’s a beautiful day at victor today. wispy clouds float in light blue, white where the sea, dark blue, meets, the sky. 

it makes me think of leaving. but, this place, i leave, too. my home. the last i have left. it’s been 3 years since i’ve had a proper home. a place i lived and made my own for longer than three months at a time. when i come back here, i feel it. that thing i lost, i find again. i’m gleeful. waking, at night, smiling to myself and falling, easily, back to dream. rested, peaceful, i wake to light. light that fills the air. i smile, stretch, feel love. i love, i’m here.

today, i leave again.

and in one month, i’ll leave all familiarity. leave to a place i’ve never been. throw myself into the wind, and be scared, nervous, anxious. push myself, toward a life. of dark blue seas and light blue skies. adventures, excitement. fear. a place, a home, perhaps. but, for no longer than three months, again, this time.

dark blue, light blue, seas and skies. and life and feeling and love and light.