In this video I’m writing a song about that strange, tender in-between season: when you’ve found a new city, but you’re not sure it’s home yet. I’m sitting with the feeling of arriving somewhere unfamiliar and trying to listen for the small signs that say “you can belong here” — the way streets start to feel like pathways, the way routines become little rituals, the way your nervous system slowly unclenches. It’s very indie-folk of me, honestly: I’m chasing honest images, gentle melody, and words that feel lived-in rather than polished. I also share how I approach songwriting when the theme is emotional (and a bit wobbly). I let the story lead, I keep the language sensory, and I give myself permission to write a “first draft” that’s more like a diary entry than a finished lyric. If you’re writing your own “new place” song, my biggest takeaway is to anchor it in specifics: what you can see from the window, what you carry in your pockets, what you miss, and what you’re beginning to love. That’s where the home-making starts — on the page, in the chords, and in the quiet decision to stay curious.