This boggy marsh is the only place I have ever felt safe while living in Idaho. I will miss it, I suppose.

I’m back here again this morning saying my goodbyes. The house is about 1/3 of the way packed and we’ve got exactly 2 weeks left to finish taping up boxes before the movers come to load the truck.

Life is weird and I do kind-of wish I had never come here, but I’m really grateful for the experience, as well as the friends, family, and collaborators I have made. No regrets.

I wrote these words last year by the water the day I found out the truth of what had been happening in my world, and they still ring true as I pack up to head out:

Permission to grieve.
Permission to cringe.
Permission to change.
Permission to laugh.
Permission to let go.
Permission to love.
Permission to love.
Permission to love.

I decided to try living in Idaho one year ago today and found my house here a month later. It was a bold, reckless move and I honestly felt like I had fucked my entire life up for a minute, just given the twists and turns that took place right after I got here — but one day I just, like…felt better.

In the months that followed, I kicked off a bunch of projects and partnerships with really talented Boise music and film people, met a great man here by accident, and we fell in love. Life is happy and peaceful. A beautiful plot twist in the potato field.

That’s all just to say, I guess I live here. Thank you to everyone who has made me feel welcome and at home. 🌈🥔

❤️🧡💛💚💙💜🤎🖤