As a person who has never spent more than 3 years at the same address (not since I turned 18 anyways), I seem to be able to make myself comfortable in any place and call it a home. Even if only for a few days, weeks or months.
What does ‘home’ mean to you? Is it a fixed address? A physical object? A person you can’t live without? How does it make you feel when you think about it?
The reason I ask is because we’ve temporarily moved back to my ‘hometown’. The place I grew up in. Been away long enough for it to feel like a distant memory, triggering a strange kind of nostalgia and curiosity, rather than the familiar feeling of being somewhere commonplace. I always thought the perks of being a travelbug is that I always carry my home with me, like a little snail. But now I’m wondering if the snail’s true home are the trails she leaves behind? I can still see them here, faint footprints I left behind 18 years ago. If so, is my home in a million little places and nowhere all at once?
Here’s a family session I photographed recently. Such a privilege to be let into their little cocoon and witness their “home”. A home full of love, life and warmth. A place where they never have to feel alone. Hopefully as the girls grow old, they will see these photos often and be reminded of their own faint footprints and all the people that held them dear in their hearts.
I’d love to know what home means to you…
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