by Emily Riddle
I don't really draw. Ask my friends. I wish I was an artist and I try to be, but it usually fails or ends up with me being frustrated... I mean, "fascinated." Throughout my journal, whenever a quote would come up or something would happen that would stick in my head, it would usually take up an entire page. This is one of them. At the time that I wrote/drew this, I was thinking of home as my house in Tennessee with my family. It has now grown to mean something completely different. I now consider myself to have 3 homes. My home in Franklin, my home at Lipscomb, and my home in Santiago. It doesn't matter if my home is a literal building anymore. I have come to learn that my home is the people surrounding me.
No comments:
Post a Comment