I know I have a bunch of pictures of Alaska in my portfolio, but it's such a beautiful place. It's one of the only places left that has so little of it touched by man. I understand Jack London's fascination with it. It's this vast untapped place, where wonder still exists on the planet. A place where you don't need an oxygen tank to get to or a giant metal ship. But I also think there is something else to it. I had a conversation with my Aunt not that long ago about the concept of coming of age and sacred places. About how the town she went to college would always be special to her because it's where she learned who she really was outside of her family. We talked about how the first city my Mom moved to that was more than an hour away from home will always be special to Mom. I agreed, reflecting on what Firenze and all of Italy for that matter mean to me. It's part of why I mix Italian culture into everything I do... Well, that and the fact that it's my heritage. So a part of me wonders if that is where the great American author Jack London found himself. Given that everything he wrote was about Alaska in some way, shape, or form.












