California, California, Here I Come

At least, that is what I would like to say. But, alas, I rarely make it back to my birth place. This past fall, I returned. My father showed me the hospital where I was born and the old house I spent my first two years in. He even showed me his high school house. As we neared his old house, he recalled the memory of his high school friend being killed at the same intersection we were at. Even the same lane, though it has been repaved since those days. We even drove on the same road that his sister died upon. These are reminders that I cannot imagine as a song plays and I consider a lost friendship and misplaced trust, but we all still breathe.

My father’s house in high school.

As we visited my grandfather, I could see my father come to life again. Away from the place he has lived for 20 years — the Michigan clouds that suffocate him — he is at peace. He considers not returning. Our homes are truly not where we live. I have found that they are the places I dream of. When I believed I found them, time inevitably unveiled that the people who comprised my home were lies. It is true that home is where the heart is, but when your heart is broken and lost, home is rather difficult to place.

So, we dream. We look on up to the sky from under Redwoods.

20140929_114207Observe time and gravity20140929_115302_1 Look to disappear

20140929_114429Or maybe just play20140929_113846Not only are the trees nearby magnificent, but the Pacific is not a long drive at all from Santa Rosa. So, we went. And I successfully got a picture of waves crashing on rocks!


And climbed some rocks
20140930_151219Captured this epic shot of my dad20140930_151948And this seagull20140930_154108I also fell in love with this tree near the cliffs above the Pacific. Location is everything20140930_161746My trip to California was wonderful. We drove along the ocean and my dad went on an one hundred mile bike-ride while I slept the last few days I was there (I had mono). I wish I would have had a camera, not just my phone, for Yosemite. I simply did not get any good pictures at Yosemite. But I think these Pacific Ocean pictures make up for it:

20140930_154449 20140930_160741 20140930_161705 20140930_161928

So, I think I may move back to California someday. I have lived in three states: California, Michigan, and Ohio. To say the very least, California is the most beautiful of these states. Now, upon my plane’s landing in Detroit, I was astonished to find actual clouds in the sky. They were incredibly beautiful and added a contrast to the sky that any photographer would appreciate (or so my sister, photographer for Little Blue Bird Photography, informed me. She’s awesome. I wish I took pictures like her.), but I still prefer the constant 80 degrees, sunshine, oceans, mountains, and lack of humidity found in Southern California over the… lakes of Michigan. And sports fans of Ohio.

Home ~ Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros

This week he is gone. He disappeared across the country while I moved two states to the east. His only message was the half serious, half joking text insisting we relocate to Colorado. It is a beautiful state, but I was even farther away. I have spent my whole life looking for home and now that I have found it I am going to leave it. I will return to the place I am supposed to be. I heard His voice on the wind and began following it northward, as though the remnants of my past were calling me to a completely new place within familiar territory.

Home is wherever I’m with you.
I sing these words and know that you are out of sight. I miss you dearly, with your phone’s signal lost and as I go on a week and two days without a word. This is so insignificant, but for me it is still a lesson to learn. Normally, he is always here. He is on the front porch playing guitar. He relaxing with a cigarette in the rain. He is blowing kisses my way.

Home, let me come home.
I plan a move and wonder when you’ll return. I am finding it difficult to consider where my path will take us, but I am hopeful that we will remain together. Otherwise, I will be left to search for a new home. If it takes another 21 years for me to find that new home, what a sorry state my heart will be in by the time I reach that summit.

And in the streets you run afree like it’s only you and me.
The roads I have followed. Crossing some was proven a simple task. There are other streets that I cannot even see across. I stop and look down at the solid yellow lines. You are to my right, lacing your roller blades. I fall over and over, my lack of balance winning this game. You always pick me up. And no matter the road, it truly is like it is only you and me.


Today the weather is my love. What I wake up to and what I hold and what holds me. I go outside and look into the sky searching for the answer to a riddle in my head. Does Mars still shine? But the sharp raindrops hit my eyes and shift my gaze to the ground. I find ants and pills and dirt and broken grass and closed dandelions. This is not the sky I intended to view.

I start walking. I leave my umbrella behind and let the water dance down my skin. It moves with a freedom my being cannot express. I look to my left and see a seemingly endless sandstorm across an expansive desert. To my right there is a forest of silver-blue crystal trees. In my mind, there is a rainstorm between two planets.

I left one before I could remember, but I still have dreams of the stinging sand and shifting buildings. It was my home at one point and something still calls me there. I moved to a metropolis which does not appear in my dreams. I left it all behind for convenience and crowded cities. The sand and the forests and even the rain will remain only a memory; though some day I may find myself there again and I’ll begin to wonder why I ever left.


The smell of incense from the floor above
Animal crackers on the paintings
“STOP & think” the wall tells me in bright red
Octagons across the wall
Fans on the ceiling
Clothes spinning dry
The blinds are broken
They never close
Old fashioned lamps and bass amps
Another instrument playing itself out of tune
Saddles and helmets and strings
A scattered basement
A blue ottoman disguised as red
Remotes, power tools, and bamboo mats
Spiders: in the corners, under your clothes
Blue skies shine through the windows
Visitors come and go
From finals, to finals
Studying and learning and bustling
Planning out life
Cheating death until that final moment
Sleeping in blue and black
Silence and dark
Nightmares that leave me sitting in bed
Wondering what my subconscious wants
Dawn comes and I can finally drift away
Though this sun leaves me burnt and alone
Solitude that will always remain
Loneliness like a lullaby