The Santa Marta I’ve come to know doesn’t feel too especially historic, at least not after my initial week in Cartagena. What it feels like is local, unassuming, lived in, and for this reason I have grown to love it.
The yurt gives me faith, really, that nothing is ever for nothing. That the threads weaving through our lives may disappear for a time – but they could still re-surface again, somewhere farther down the tapestry.
After sketching across Europe and Asia, I loved the switch in subject – from places I’d never seen before to places that mean a great deal to people; in a way, places that play a key role in their story.
Whether you’re celebrating Thanksgiving today or not, I hope you find a bit of time to say your own prayer of gratitude. For life’s many crazy blessings, for new cities to explore, for the gift of home, and of course, for pumpkin pie.
With my camera stolen, I can’t share photos from my new favorite haunt in Seattle – but what I do have is a sketch from Shi Shi Beach in Olympic National Park, where I spent the weekend camping and falling in love with its misty, tree-lined shores.
On a balmy Sunday afternoon in Luang Prabang, Laos, while sketching the sleepy town at a sidewalk desk, I realize there’s only one stamp of approval we need to do what we love. Our own.
It was to this view I returned on Sunday afternoon. With the Tibetans’ chants still ringing in my ears (What we want? We want freedom!), I sat down on the ledge, opened up my sketchbook, and turned to the valley below me for inspiration.
One of my favorite restaurants here in Goa is called Magic View, and no matter if you’re sat in the front section looking towards Patnem Beach or at a few tables out back overlooking Colomb Bay, the view is indeed, well, magic.