I have moved 14 times in 36 years, not including digs as a touring artist or artist-in-residence, or times where I practically lived at an ex’s house.

My first 4 years were spent in a house I barely remenber. I have flashes of: biting a sofa as a toddler and it feeling weird, a family party where everyone was enjoying how much I loved bananas, and watching a rainstorm out of the big window.

Then ages 5-19 i lived in a small village surrounded by farms, rural footpaths with styes and gates - so I have a lot of memories of all sorts of life: from kids playing to being teens with nothing better to do, with sneaking away with partners to fool around in the long grass, to taking walks just to fun…

Over time the village got bigger, this field filled with giant dead logs we used to play on is now houses, some fields we walked across are now fenced in, and my parents retired and moved, so they sold the house and they completely remodeled it: changed the entrance, moved the bathrooms and the kitchen. So yes I feel nostalgic for that, but also change is inevitable so there are experiences lost to time like tears in the rain.

Then after that I’ve lived in big cities, which as I got older and more financially stable, meant i moved further in to the centers with more stuff to do and more trouble to get up to.

And then coming up on 2 years I bought this house where we plan to stay for a good long while.