Home some say is where the heart is. And they are right in a way. It is probably the most honest definition yet, because it is not physically definite nor does it limit imagination. So in reality your home can be anywhere place-wise, even in your imagination. For me it is a culmination of places and memories, that one day I wish to recreate. But that will remain a wish in the visual sense because one cannot combine two environments accurately. The characteristics are too varied and difficult to define.

But this piece of sky is like a mirror to me. It reminds me of where I stood as I captured it in this one dimensional representation. The sun as it set, took with it its warmth as I watched standing on that black tar lined terrace. I felt it hide by degrees, its beauty changing but not diminishing and then its decline into non-existence, its gracious retreat to let in the night for her time and the reign of the moon. So my home was there in that thought, in that place. But that piece of sky was commonly beheld and I know that for many she was ordinary, just another end to a day, beautiful yes, but common. For me though it was and always will be a specific part of what I call home and where my soul and heart will subconsciously try to get back to as life runs its path.


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