The first week I moved to California I had a dream that I was running around outside completely naked. It was the best feeling of relaxed optimism and uninhibited self expression.

Though I am not the type of person to actually run around naked (though it’s widely accepted here, despite the recent ban on public nudity), this feeling has stayed with me. When I find myself in the worst traffic, I look up and I am greeted by a purple sky, half covered in fog. I inch my way onto a crowded subway train and a white rose pokes out of someone’s velvet purse right next to me. In the city, I am overwhelmed by the smell of urine on the sidewalks, of bread baking, car exhaust, women's perfume and the ocean.

In the four months since I arrived here, the Bay Area has been gently pulling me out of my shell. I socialize more. I speak up more. All of my senses have been opened by this strange and amazing place.

What will the future hold? Will all of this change? Yes, probably. But for now, I feel held by this place - by California. Like no other place I’ve ever lived.

(Currently listening to Keaton Henson - Don't Swim)