I have been in Europe for 5 days now. It has been like coming home - drinking fresh coffee, walking all over, looking at so much art, watching people, watching life parade by and photographing everything and nothing at the same time. Does it matter? I always wished this could be my life somehow and then now it is, and it feels so natural, but I know it will end. Already, the mounds of cat hair under my bed and the stacks of unread mail on the kitchen table do not matter. This is life. This is living. Breathing and walking and seeing and thinking and dreaming. Do my feet need to touch the ground?
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