Friday, September 24, 2010

welcome home...

Mi casa es su casa kind of blog…

I was told the other day and I quote “without money there is no family."

No- you read it right.

Such a devastating statement.

How could someone be so shallow to even shutter the thought but I thank you-

you have given me a reason to debate.

I decided to take a little drive. I stumble across some potential location greatness but didn’t have my camera in tow. So I venture again a few days later, camera in tow with the smell of rain only the desert can give as I drive up to this old abandoned "if walls could talk" little casa. I get out of the car and fall in l.o.v.e.

What a house. What a sky. What a story…

Even abandoned, alone, broke, it spoke to me. It has a history.

I wonder who lived there?

When did they live there?

How old is this place?

Boarded up and random belongings spread throughout the home, because at one point it was a home.

A house is a house but it takes very little money to make a house a home. All of this crossing my mind as I walk over broken glass, wood and old rusted nails. I am in flip flops, my shoe of choice. Because of my recent move I guess I feel compelled and ABSOLUTLY BLESSED that no amount of money is needed to make my house a home. I look at this shack, let’s face it- it was once a home but after years of abandonment it has lost it’s zeal to be called that- it’s empty.

Let’s put this in perspective.

If there were millions of dollars piled up behind those boarded windows and broken glass would this shack feel more like a home to you?


If your children, husband or wife, mom or dad, sister or brother, niece or nephew were sitting on the what used to be a front porch or leaning on the rotted plywood be more appealing?

The answer.

So clear. Crystal clear to me.

What speaks to your heart? What makes your house a home?

Here’s the crazy thing. Empty now…but had my kids been sitting there looking at me while I looked through my lens. I can guarantee ONE thing. That shack, that old abandoned house, very quickly would have become my home. My everything. My life. My love. My world. My rotten plywood. My broken glass. Mi casa.


I am loving the light. I couldn’t have asked for a better sky. The amount of peace I get when driving, scouting, working, shooting, editing, telling a story- well, I can’t explain it. I am just glad I am at peace with this thing I call work, and thankful that I can make a little money with my passion. Clearly, money is important. In fact it is quiet necesscery to an extent. But will I quantify this statement as the truth?


May my family NEVER feel that money ever be more important than the l.o.v.e, warmth, truthfulness, humbleness, respect, affection, admiration, and appreciation. May those things continue to consume us and make our house, wherever that may be, a home.

And that little shack… I just made it a home…


Mi casa es su casa…