Sunrise over San Francisco Bay
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Sunrise over San Francisco Bay
Sunset and Rainbow at Pharaoh Lake in the Adironacks
Traveling scares me because I know it will change who I am entirely.
The Quiet Wild
Driving through the unassuming backcountry roads of Virginia as the sun’s set shadows grace the rolling green foothills.
The roads wind with excitement. They take us to where we hope to be but can’t find on our own. It’s a path that others have been down, bored by, but is now our destination, anticipation.
Over the next hill, around that bend we peak, our attention harnessed by the mystery of it all. A novel pathway on a world we thought we knew.
Those driveways long, lead us home to a golden painted scene. Sky orange and fields sparkle, a peace calls us to where the quiet wild quiets the soul.
Foggy Skyline, New York City.
—Long Beach, New York
You'll never know what you're going to find unless you go exploring.
Les Stroud, Survivorman
Sunny summer evenings. New York, NY
Pioneer a World and Discover a Name
It was a discovery that there was so much to discover. That there were worlds to see and seas to part. There would be places that, even though my feet pounded the well packed trail, I felt like I had discovered a whole new world. I had pioneered my new world. It wouldn’t be called home—because what is home?—but it would be a place I would take with me. A souvenir. A badge. That discovery.
I left it all behind. Took what little I had and gave it all away so I had everything to gain. I started with nothing but a name; what identified me but I couldn’t identify with.
A cavalier adventure abandoned all comforts and created a desire to desire what’s beyond the edge of the earth. To press on and forge ahead through storms and stains, sins and gains. I will let the letters of the road signs passed impress and imprint a name for me. A name that doesn’t just follow in the dust of my trail but proceeds me. I want to make a name that’s fashioned with the strength of that craving and the passion of wanderlust. It will be a name that belongs with me and a name that will stand on its own when I stake my claim. I want a name that will rouse those that hear it but not because of the miles traveled but because of how those miles molded me.
But to arrive, many silent miles are traveled. A name is built during those silent miles along the weaving of waning of the map’s lines. It’s shaped on the lips of the world, your Muse, but is only whispered until you truly know it—until you can shout it out.
To discover my name is more than to make that name.
—Shenandoah National Park, June 2012
—New York, NY
—Ice Skating. Kelowna, BC