There’s no place like Home – a photo essay

“Home is where the heart is.”
You’ve seen it embroidered on pillow cushions, painted over door hangers, woven in welcome mats; it is a phrase that is kitschy and wildly over-used, but somehow it always manages to be perfectly true. Though my heart lives in many places, its true “home” is in the state of Kansas. My genes descend from long lineages of Kansan farming on both my father’s and mother’s sides. Mom, hailing from the eastern side of the state, and dad, hailing from the west joined forces and moved to California in the late 1980’s with my then 14 month old big sister. They settled in to the Golden State quite well, and welcomed me into the world soon after.

I can remember visits to my grandparents’ houses back from when I was merely two years old, though I know there were visits before then. Many fond memories fill my heart when I think of these places, the places where my heritage was fostered and part of my identity formed. Some memories are of smells: freshly cut wheat, saw dust, and pure, clean air. Some are of sounds: barn cats meowing, the what truck’s creaky door, the hum of the combine engine. Each feeling resonates through me when I think of those special places.

During the August of 2012 I spent two weeks visiting my family and documenting the places significant to me and my heritage. Little did I know then that this would launch into a major ongoing project and continued exploration.

Below are a curated selection of images from that trip, previously presented as a book with the words above as their preface.


Jordan and I went exploring in the forests of Purisma Creek Redwoods Preserve, in the South Bay peninsula. The day prior was damp and thunderous, but March 1st kicked off the month with an absolutely gorgeous day filled with a soft sun and mild breezes keeping us happy as we hiked through the trees.