In the city, you are never in one place at a time; multiple worlds occupy the territory you think of as your own, which you define largely by what you choose not to notice. The corner you stand on waiting for the light to change is entirely different to you, to the potbellied Black businessman at your side, to the cyclist balancing on his pedals at the curb, to the weary bleached blonde woman slumped in the driver's seat, to the homeless man crouching by his ragged blankets in the shade. I once walked along the concrete banks of the Los Angeles River near Long Beach with a friend of mine, also a photographer, and at one point I stood immediately behind her—she was very short—and shot a photo over her head, of distant freeway ramps looping over the water. Our very similar cameras clicked almost simultaneously. The two pictures were so different when we compared them later (this was in the days of film) that they could have been taken a thousand miles apart. Yet we were close friends who discussed our craft endlessly and had similar artistic philosophies. Even in our own little closed-in world, we were worlds apart.
My son and daughter-in-law had been after me for years to move from upstate New York to North Carolina. "It's so cold up there," they said. "Things are hopping down here," they said. "You'd find a job in no time, and you'd love the winters."
I was at least six when we went to Disney World as a whole family. There were six of us, as we drove through at least six states to arrive. We started on January 4, 2008, and we saw some great sites as well as some other weird ones, like the creepy alien baby on the top of the red van. We stopped at Saint Louis gateway and saw the riverfront, and we got subway there, and I remember literally tripping and almost face planting with a cup of water, and my mom laughing so hard since it should be on America's funniest videos, and it was a wonder I didn’t spill any of my water either. After three days driving and two nights in hotels, we arrived in Florida, Walt Disney World Florida. We had a beautiful hotel. It was blue and bright, and everyone had their own room. It was a blessing for my two other siblings who had to share rooms at our house. We wanted to go so badly, but it was late so we had to sleep. I slept fine, I usually don’t have trouble sleeping unless I'm scared that something bad might happen. The first day we went to Hollywood studios and did quite a few things. We did Toy Story Mania, Tower of Terror, Star Tours, The Great Movie Ride, Pirates Of The Carribean, and many others. When we did the Tower of Terror for the first time, I was terrified. I hate the sensation of falling and I knew exactly that this was going to be it. My brother, being much younger than me, was not. He wanted to do it yet he barely met the height requirement. We laugh now, but then he literally flew up out of his seat. My mother was terrified he might just slip out the seat belt and float to the ceiling and injure himself. We did it a couple of more times before we went to the hotel for a dinner break and slept for the next day to come.
As a young university student with a love of travel, I decided to take a leap of faith, and move across the world to study in France. I was living about two hours south of Paris. One weekend, I decided to take a solo trip to Milan, Italy. The trip was amazing, and the people that I met there were some of the most genuine, but that weekend didn’t come without its downs...
I recently completed a road trip through Europe. And by road trip I mean driving a rental car from Marseille, France, to Venice, Munich, Amsterdam, Brussels, and Paris, only to return to Marseille, France in two weeks.
You work hard, all year round. Life is busy with work, study, family, and other obligations. Between busy schedules and budget, it is not easy to plan a getaway. Getting away, even for a short period, does wonders for your well-being, mentally and physically.
Weaving in and out of traffic, residents are scurrying to their next destination. Even at 7 AM, the streets are becoming louder as the city slowly begins to rise. The market is loud with sounds of cooking, bartering, and the traffic surrounding it. Tourist walk down the street looking for breakfast, quite unsure of their steps. Observing the tourist, it’s interesting that I no longer lump myself in that category. No longer identifying as a visitor, a stranger to the land.
White noise: the scientific phenomenon that occurs when you hear a specific sound such that your brain starts to block it out to the point that your ear still registers but your brain relegates it to the background. You hear it yet you don’t hear it. White noise is a sure and accepted concept in science that concerns auditory affairs of the ear and sound. I’ve come to the conclusion that the concept can be applied to people.
Jem loved to travel, and she also loved to adopt a different persona in each different place she traveled to. She was good at spinning different backstory webs and making both friends and enemies. Either kind was made intentionally and for a specific purpose.
I’m not superstitious. I don’t believe in signs and omens. As though the future can be seen somehow in steaming entrails or the filth at the bottom of a cup. Nonsense. The universe is not a novelist, and it doesn’t foreshadow. Making stories is a human concern, not a cosmic one.
It was 101 degrees Fahrenheit outside. I spent my final day walking around Athens alone, visiting the Byzantine and Christian Museum and various ruins such as Aristotle’s Lyceum (where the Peripatetic School was founded in 335 BC).