Traveling On TIme

I am a seeker. Taking to the road allows me to scratch at my longing. On the road, I am invited into a slowness that I otherwise find elusive. I am my best self on the road; awed by time and the ephemeral.

I am a, windows open, with light breeze lapping at my face turned up to the sun as I silently glide down some long stretch of open road, traveler.

I like to try and capture the elusive nature of forgotten places while attempting to stay away from top ten lists (that usually disappoint) or the latest hippest facebook-ified cityscape.

I like magic and weirdness. I like people and places enmeshed in their embodiment. These things feel in short supply in a highly commoditized market driven sameness seeking system. I grieve the loss of rough diamonds in cities and in towns I have called home and, in my travels, in my yearning I seek a road back to the divinity of the small, disparate, and unique the resides in place and in all of us.

It is in this sweet spot that my seeking meets the sublime stirring of home.