Smell the peonies with a pocket full of mountain tops. Let us not grow restless walking around with the silhouette of a slow dance. Let the slow be your catapult into a velvet sky of momentum.

Our Safarian sails have landed us home, back into the arms of our tribe, amidst the slow, breathing in change while flirting with the familiar, resting on beds of sequins as we dream about our now and expect for the next. The African residue has surely settled upon our skins and made itself resident, Oh how our lungs are breathing like never before.

Travel has taught much, but mostly, it’s girded my inner truths with songs that sing “home is actually when ever I’m with you”. Life is beautiful with you by my side and I love you!