Painted Wings

So every year the butterflies come to congregate in Grover Beach, just a little drive from my stomping grounds. Every year there are a few less, so I finally took my camera to capture this fluttering phenomenon before they are gone for good. There is so much metaphor in these pretty creatures: transformation, beauty, mortality, the illusion of uniqueness... its like looking at a well written poem.

This little one is so powerful by himself perched on a lone branch.

Heart is Where the Home is

Since I've been sort of a transient wanderer, I've had a really hard time defining what "home" is. I call certain places home when I travel to them - for example wherever Toph is, if I'm driving toward him I say "I'm going home". My parent's house is sometimes home, Chris's parent's house is often home, and the city of Sacramento will always be home.

So here are a few photos from the past few months that make me feel at home. Though they might not be permanent, its where my heart is.