When people find out that I usually travel alone, so often the first question they ask is, “Don’t you ever get lonely?” What surprises me is the terribly concerned look on their face, as though loneliness is something to be afraid of.
The fireworks prove tricky to photograph – especially getting certain things like exposure and focus right. That’s when I decide to turn off my camera’s auto-focus, twist the lens and blur the suckers to a point beyond recognition.
Every now and then you meet someone whose friendship not only proves the test of time, but of distance, too. Today I want you to meet Micaela, one such friend whose questions before her first solo trip inspired this new blog series.
McCurry’s post was not only beautiful and timely, but humbling – a reminder that waiting is a part of our humanity. A reminder that there are millions of people waiting for things far more pressing than a reply from an agent.
I had no idea what to expect on Vieques Island, but what awaited me were vivid hibiscus flowers. Verdant hills covered in palm and mango trees. Garlands of shell ginger blossoms, their buds white and each tip a light shade of flamingo pink.
As Aziz leads me farther through the dyers market, I feel a familiar tension coming back. During my time earlier with the blacksmiths, as interested as I was in their work, I couldn’t help asking myself: Are they doing this for me?
“These are called suckers,” my dad tells me, pointing to a small shoot on the tomato plant growing in the fork between two branches. Strangely, the more I learn about pruning these suckers, the more I learn about the writing life.
Flamenco wasn’t on my list of things to see in Spain. But when a performance unexpectedly started at lunch one day in Madrid, I suddenly couldn’t imagine having left the country without seeing this.