“I sit at the top of a winding black driveway, hidden behind overgrown shrubbery and a steel gate that never seems to close. I watch the world rush by, cars zipping past, strangers passing through, always waiting for them to return, to pull in once more, and walk up to the door i've kept waiting.”
This is a visual narrative inspired by a short story I wrote about my childhood home. The story is written from the perspective of the house itself, telling the story of my family moving in, watching the children go through all phases of life, and slowly move out one by one. This visual represents that we are always tied to this house, and home is where the heart is.
