Re-configuring Home — Far Away Is Here

After six months living and traveling in places foreign to me, coming home to Virginia, to Brooklyn, has felt so strange, so good, so necessary. It feels both like being frozen, a bug in the hundreds-of-years amber of August, and also somehow at the same time there is this feeling of constant movement--there is no sitting still; I am a bug avoiding death by moving constantly before my short, short life is done.

I am remembering "home", reimagining it, being Mojo's caretaker again, moving him and me to a new home with Lee, remembering what it's like to pass time when I do not have a destination in mind, when I am not constantly translating, or trying something new, or... We have been going to "new" places like Asbury Park and the US Open. And yes, that can feel even more faraway than where I was; I am trying not to forget my travels, even though it feels like it's been forever ago that I was away. I am thankful for the words I wrote to mark some of those moments, the conversations I had. I am re-scrambling my mind into new/old rhythms, recalling my strange relationship with my nationality, these places, delighting in the familiar and forgotten joys of it, marking new intentions, accepting old patterns.

And now here we are—far away and close as ever—the last weekend of summer.