The lawn

I'm in the middle of moving right now, and it's brought up more than I expected - gratitude sitting right next to regret, most days, at the same time.

This is where the earliest ENGRAINED concepts came from. ROOTED. ALWAYS HERE. The idea that a place can live in you permanently, whether or not you're standing in it. That version of the brand has changed a abit since then. But the idea underneath it never left.

So the newest piece is a lawn. A gazebo in the background. A firepit where the people who matter to you actually gather. Not a landmark, not a monument, just the place where the ordinary, important stuff happens. Where nobody's performing anything. Where you're just there, with people who are just there too. 

Moving makes you ask what "home" was actually doing for you all along. This piece is my answer, for now: home isn't the address. It's the version of a place that stays engrained in you long after you've packed it into boxes.

This will always be a home for me. Even from wherever I end up next.