Hiraeth, a Welsh word, has no true English equivalent. Perhaps the closest is homesickness or nostalgia. There is a saying "you can never go home" and I think perhaps that is a good approximation of Hiraeth. Home can be a memory, half buried within the landscape of the mind, a fragment of time just beyond that horizon; surely around the next infinite bend. Childhood is a place we can never go back to, it has formed the bones of who we are now, but is fundamentally inaccessible, except in brief lucid snapshots. Perhaps Hiraeth is like trying to find the lost pathways back to each soul changing moment.

These are some of my childhood memories, though to be fair, I don't actually remember each of these moments. Still, they are carried within me somewhere and as I made this video I could almost taste that childhood sun again, could almost remember the feeling of my yellow jacket on cold arms. Almost. This is Hiraeth.

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