When I was 22 I moved to California on a whim after graduating from art school. I’ll always remember the first place I went when I moved here: a drive up to Topanga Canyon above Malibu.. I lived in LA three years — I could see the Hollywood sign out of my bedroom window high above Echo Park. Life in Los Angeles found me always wanting to escape, I could feel how close I was to nature and always wanted to go.. to the desert, to the mountains, but especially to the coast. I drove up and down this coastline more times than I can count on two hands. On a sunny day one spring, I drove down Laguna canyon for the first time and fell in love. I can trace the curves of the road perfectly in my mind. I found a little cottage only a five-minute walk to the beach with the biggest palm tree I’ve ever seen outside my window. The first place I ever felt truly at home since moving, and the first time I’d ever lived alone. Looking out at my little deck now, I can see a thousand memories of dinner parties late into the night, I look out the window and see so many versions of myself there outside with friends..crying, laughing or more often than not, some mixture of both. I just keep thinking about that girl I was at 25 when I moved into this place. I sometimes think about what I would tell her, knowing what I know now. But then, I think about what she may tell me.. how proud she is of me.. that I’ve never settled, I’ve kept faith, and I’ve kept creating myself. Dear California, I’ll always hold you close in my heart, but I hear the mountains calling me home. 🤎