I was struggling to draw some meaning out of my most recent trip. Sorting through everything, all things considered, it was stimulation overload and a mental mountain to process (in the best way). 12 days, 15 shows, 5 girls (and a couple boys too), then 4 girls, then 3, countless costume changes, 7 states, 5 national parks, several emotional breakdowns, 4000 miles, 2 storms, and 1 flat tire.
It took me about 6 hours of being back home in San Francisco to realize I was searching for something elusive, potentially non existent, and was refusing to see what was right in front of me. Why is it so difficult sometimes for us to innately trust our feelings?
I’ve traveled far and wide and never have I been happier to come home to San Francisco.
And that’s it.