Oh, those places we call home, they still beckon and dazzle like colored glass beads. How deeply they hold our imaginations, shining in rich technicolor, resonating within us in a slow smoldering pitch. Those places we miss have staying power in our psyche because they are inextricably tied to our dreams. We long for what we think we’ve lost, or, maybe this is truer, we yearn for the dream for what could have been. As writers, we have the gift of transformation. It’s true – writing can show us our way home. We get to make our lived experiences what we want. Our written pieces can radiate, and illuminate even if our past lets us down. No matter what has happened, we still have our words, our stories.