If you were to spend your entire life traveling the globe to see all the far corners and diverse cultures you would realize that there exists a finite beginning and end to everything.  A powerful dynasty crumbles or a simple life is lived.  our History is merely a ghost and the future is only in the imagination.  Yet we are grounded in our place of home:  the city, the town, the neighborhood, the dwelling, the bed.  Each level in the hierarchy of place is more viscous then the previous.  We prepare our bodies, our vessels, for a journey our hearts must follow on roads that are paved with the mist.