No Place
Like Home

In remembrance to every home I’ve bid farewell, I recall the resilience of the spider and its web, weaving delicate tendrils of beauty and necessity between every nook and cranny in nature. The web, susceptible to the forces of nature, can be easily broken, an exposed root system with nothing to ground to but neglected corners. Just like the spider, home has been ripped out under me countless times, yet I channel that tenacity to survive. In Hawaii, home security is a silent scream amongst the “paradise” facade. Homes in Hawaii are the second or the third house on people’s list. Homes here are shared by multi-generational families struggling to stay. Homes are occupied by strangers. Homes are temporary. Homes are stolen. Homes are transactional and no longer a deserving necessity.