Traveling as three, me and my roadworn adventure partner and our new sidekick, we set off from the nest. Our first time seeing some far away loved ones, first hugs and first flights. A new nephew and a new niece meeting cousins, aunts, uncles. We walked and talked, feasted and celebrated a graduation and an anniversary, and one another in general. To share one of our great passions, travel, with our son, was true joy. When we go into the world, we are always home together.
Three weeks back in the States, time enough to develop the role of film begun in Wellington, finished in Denver. From the windy damp to the hot dust, we’ve begun fixing up our version of a home. Coming from one season to another feels like time travel. Fall leaves, piles of blankets and warm boots have been stashed and replaced with buzzing fans, popsicles and flip flops. Memories of Wellington are still fresh, deep palimpsests on the surface of our minds, but I can almost feel them begin to seep away into drawers, file cabinets, hidden spots for later discovery, always changing.
reading :: The Book of Laughter and Forgetting, Milan Kundera
watching :: Ken Burns’ Prohibition
eating :: homemade bread and popsicles (frozen kefir, berries, honey)
listening :: Waxahatchee, Cerulean Salt
touching :: the weight of an electric guitar