What is home?  I don't have one place that I can call home, and indeed I find myself in a transitory state once again - unsettled, unsure.  As far as I can tell, home is memory; a bank of memories.  Just because mine are from all over the place doesn't make them less about home than the memories of a person who grew up in just one place.  This is an ongoing collection of work - indeed I expect it to grow for as long as I do.