I Loved Every Place I Lived And

Going To Europe As A Budding Cook Opened My Eyes To Food In A Different Way. When I Got To Italy, The First Thing I Did Was Put My Little Basil Plants In The Ground And Watch Them Turn Into Big, Healthy Bushes.

Any Arbitrary Turning Along The Way And I Would Be Elsewhere; I Would Be Different.

As Travel Pushes Me Forward, Memory Keeps Dragging Me Backward.

Where You Are Is Who You Are. The Further Inside You The Place Moves, The More Your Identity Is Intertwined With It. Never Casual, The Choice Of Place Is The Choice Of Something You Crave.

I Would Like The Discovery Of Poetry To Be A Field Guide To The Natural Pleasures Of Language - A Happiness We Were Born To Have.