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I took a trip to Germany a few months ago. I typed this on my phone between opera rehearsals. Today, as I was cleaning out my notes app, it caught my attention and I decided to leave it here to find again later.

I'm at the house in Weimar. Kind of ridiculous but now that I'm here I miss Oklahoma and everybody there. I'm beginning to realize that no matter where I am I find a way to long for a place that is somewhere else. I guess that's the dirty travel secret nobody tells you about. You start to leave little pieces of yourself in all the places you visit. As you get further and further spread out, it becomes impossible to ever be completely whole again. My love for places like Waco, Puerto Viejo, Weimar, New Orleans, California, and Hinton all coexist and fight for supremacy depending on which of those longings has been stoked most recently. When I'm hot in the Oklahoma summer I consider the mildness of the Costa Rican climate, and struggling with language barriers in foreign countries always makes me long for home.

They say you can't go home again, and that is the difficulty with letting yourself make homes all over the world. Being a tourist is tough for me, so in my head I make new "homes" all the time. I latch on to experiences; I let them be significant.