It’s been a while,

I have had a hard time keeping up with writing. I think that I always lie to myself at the a new milestone and say I will do less but I never do.

I have been working on a screenplay, but I can’t move forward.

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Hey friends,
Jane, I feel like I haven’t had a place to call home for much of this year. I lived at Hannah’s grandma’s all summer, then stayed in a new town in Tibet every night for a month, then packed a truck in my most recent home (Utah) and stopped in my old one (Texas) on the way to a new one (New York), all within a week. What is home in a world where one can uproot themselves and travel nearly 11,000 miles in a week?
While we were in Texas, Hannah and I sat under an important tree at the edge of a pond, and I had the sense of forgotten feelings washing over me; light humidity on my skin, humid haze over the water, making the ground and the green above it more vibrant, bug sounds resonating, recent rain evaporating from leaves and pavement. I realized I hadn’t sat in Texas on a summer day for four years. The humidity over the water held nearly-tangible memories with it.
The places I call home contain personal sensory experiences that my life is constructed from. It’s as if the place becomes me, or I melt into the place, and then small bits of me remain in each place when I’m not there. I forget about those parts of me (not in an ungrateful way, but as a product of temporal and spatial distance from the place) until I return and those senses remind me of where I come from. So, I think a place that reminds me who I am is home.
I also think the feeling of loss that is earned from enough time spent in a place signifies home, or one that once was. What else would produce such a pit in my chest when I woke up at my brother’s house on the day we drove away from Utah? I feel like parts of me were left behind in Utah, in Texas; but they’ll be there for me when I return to feel them again. I don’t feel that for New York yet because it’s new, but I imagine I will when it’s time to leave here, too.
I am grateful for the places I’ve been able to call home, and even more grateful for the people that have made them home.
I hope that all of you are too.

I have been thinking a lot this week about money. Primarily, I have been interested in artists aversion to money conversations. I worry that I’m just creating things that will just further circulate wealth at the high end of the economic bracket.


Hi All,

This blog is an experimental communication platform. Some Friends will be communicating with each other on this public medium. The community is encouraged to engage in the communicative performance and observe the ensuing correspondence.

Some Friends