The Kyoto sun is up but the customarily flush streets are bare save for a rank of jostling teens. They are returning home after a night of gaming, a popular hobby among the youth. A street sweeper finishes his shift. A jogger crosses a green traffic light. The city is still sleeping, but through a dim gate a figure in all white kneels at work.
I hung out at friends houses growing up: the Davis', the Eichenholtz's, the Briggs'. Somewhere early along the line, I built this fable in my head that if people saw the inside of my life, they wouldn't like me. It was safer
I’ve got this peculiarity, as my Dad would call it, wherein I genuinely enjoy arriving at an unfamiliar place after dark. Really, I'd almost prefer to get to there, whether it's the Grand Canyon, the Gulf of Mexico, or Glasgow in the dead of night. Waking up in a new place makes me feel like I’m waking up into a new world.
Dec. 29th 2016 - Woke up one minute before the alarm clock. How does that happen? Caught a ride from Christopher, a Fasten driver wearing black rimmed glasses whose endless jokes would have probably hit home if it wasn't 6:05 am. Kate drooled
On June 2nd of 2013, I flew across the Atlantic alone for the first time. I landed in sopped London and over the course of 4 hours somehow found my way through the London Underground from Heathrow to a flat in Camden where I'd be staying for the following months.
It all began with a portly butcher and an early Spring day. It was the Middle Ages and the time of year when Winter finally begins to falter, losing its grip to glorious Spring. To celebrate, the carpenters of Valencia would drag the rot
It's midday and the swaying hammock sticks to my salty skin. The ocean never truly washes off here. Surfboard leashes drip dry on the porch, electronics don't last, and the people of Esterillos adopt the schedule of the sea and sun. It's a 600 person paradise, free from bellowing news anchors and neck ties, hot water and occasionally electricity.