Leaving LA always bestows quite the emotional impression upon me.
I know that I will be living there again someday…that’s for certain. But what is more remarkable is that I can attach the word home to the location.
The word home remains an odd entity. Is home where your family is? Is home where my cat curls up at my feet? To me, prior to living in LA, home was where my mother was and where my own bed was: a place of familiarity and comfort. But after some bumps on my chosen path of life and after time on tour that took on a whole new meaning. Amidst the smog, countless bars in LA, and desperate people starving for attention, I found an energy off of which I thrived. I also found a place that I could call my own and the best friend I have ever had. Now it feel as though every other place I have been has been more of a vacation than a home.
And I have been waiting to get back home.