There was much that my time in Buenos Aires taught me, but most of all, it taught me to keep looking for the symbols and motifs that recur in our lives—in just the right place, and at just the right time.
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.
For isn’t seeing the truest, most important thing? And isn’t it the very reason we travel? To see the world for ourselves – with our own eyes and ears, and with our own hands and hearts.
From beautiful Vashon Island in the Pacific Northwest to the infinite beaches of the Outer Banks in North Carolina, I tried to pull out my sketchbook as often as possible during this stateside summer.
It’s yet another lesson I’ve learned this year: As scary as the unknown can be – be it our future or simply a new corner of the world – it’s up to us to finally fill in the blanks…not to mention our sketchbooks.