I recently went to Tasmania. I finally made it down south and rented a car to drive around much of the state. It was a busy trip, with the car being loaded most mornings, a different bed each night and the days full of as many adventures as possible. It was exactly how I used to like to travel. But on this occasion, the beautiful scenery failed to completely fill my senses.

The difference, had nothing to do with Tasmania, but with me. I missed my studio. I kept thinking about the last 30 pages of editing that were waiting for me at home. I realised that as fun and as beautiful as Tasmania was (seriously, it is worth the trip), I didn’t appreciate it as much as I might otherwise have done, because I no longer want to travel.

This is a HUGE revelation for me. I have had itchy feet since my first overseas trip when I was just 14 years old. I have spent all my savings, even taken on second jobs to pay for this expensive hobby. I would plan the next trip, often before finishing one I was on. I even had to ban myself from going, or planning, an overseas trip for two years in an attempt to curb my addiction. It didn’t work.

So what’s changed? I bought a house, I planted a garden, and I built a studio which inspires and supports my day dreams. It is where I want to be. So, with a wry smile, I realised that I wanted my studio more than the world. I wanted my own tiny patch of earth, and to see the changes which occur within my fence, more than I wanted to learn the history of a 1000 people.

It is times like this that tell me I have found my passion, and my home. The world can smile and release its hold on me. Hopefully, it will find someone else to inspire. As for me, I’ll stay in one place, dreaming, and writing.