All through my teen years I spent hours of dreaming about moving away from home. I would take my family to some place where no one knew me and I could start over. Where i live isn’t exactly a small community, but somehow everyone knows each other. If, like me you either didn’t fit in at school or do not want to be connected to who you were then, escape is the dream.
A recurring theme of photos that I take are of paths or roads leading away from me, stretching out into the distance.
Since moving away home feels more like home. I miss my town. There are still parts of it and people in it who I don’t feel the same way about, but there is much that I miss. I miss running in the park, looking out to the horizon with the sea breeze hitting my face and the most delicious ice cream I have ever and will ever taste (even when it’s pouring with rain).
Growing up I took where I lived for granted. I focussed on escaping what I didn’t like rather than appreciating what I was lucky to have.
I’m looking forward to my new adventure here in London, but it’s not home, not yet anyway.
Until next time,