Star Lit

I move a lot. People often ask me where home is. I don't have an answer. I don't really have a home. Home is wherever I am at the moment. Home foloows me around in my luggage. But it's not really home.
When I look back there's one place that did feel like home. Where all the good and the bad felt normal, when the boring menial tasks brought me a sense of quiet belonging. Where the bad didn't feel so bad, it was just part of life. But now when i look back, I seem to only remeber the good. Only the way it felt to come home after a long day, the way the Sun set behind the buildings, the way the nightlife lights shone through my window. I remeber the peace of going for a nice walk, the streets bathed in a soft light and the bright blue sky. I forget the grey days, the slow days, the miserable days. I remeber all the good. All the beautiful. I remember a life that never really happened. A life filled only with happiness. A life that's more like a dream than anything else. A life I wish I could have again, even if only in dreams.


Through this ongoing project I explore how nostalgia can change a memory and how those memories create a place that exists only in our minds