Without A Home

For most of 2021 I held no residence. Unintentionally. A natural longing, I found myself uninterested in obtaining a “permanent” residence. I rented out a commercial studio in the town I grew up in the area where my parents bought their home. I lived and worked out of it.

I bought furniture from IKEA's 'As-Is' section and a local furniture shops. My Mother came and potted flowers for the windowsill. My Father brought leftovers from his job. I lived by a co-op and purchased baguettes and cheese from a local bakery. I got a membership at a nearby gym and took advantage of the showers. This was nearing the end of Autumn.

I would take the train to NY like I used to when I was 21. I’d stay in a hotel. Sometimes for a day or two, sometimes a week. My trips were far more to the point than before. If I had a lunch or dinner meeting, I’d handle that and then cruise around and see what else was happening. I’d check on stores that stocked Cereal & Such. I’d always buy a box and hand it off to a passerby. Then i'd return to my hotel, sometimes ready to book a return ticket sometimes still feeling the urge to remain. But when it was time I would head right back to my studio. I used that studio as a satellite as I traveled the world. Fiji, Hokkaido, Los Angeles, Italy. Taking it as it came, from the comfort of a travelers backpack.

This was my life until recently as I returned to Los Angeles while my partner develops her pastry career. Having lived here for nearly 15 years I feel quenched of my time in this capacity. It's interesting to examine this place no longer wide eyed and bushy tailed. I see through the veil.

I mostly write, walk, design and visit my friend Charlie at his shop. Other than that I'm no where to be found. Talks of returning East have come up. The prospect sounds wonderful, however, I know i'll soon bore of that too. The spirit of indifference has not left me.

I have never felt quite at home in my hometown, though, I’ve never felt at home anywhere I’ve lived.

Perhaps not knowing is what interests me. Building a studio in the desert. Going where the ideas lead me. Riding shotgun while inspiration takes the wheel. At this point it's the only thing that has the power to hold my attention.