As I sat and sketched in Tromsø, I loved looking up at the cathedral’s turquoise steeple, keeping time by the clocks on its churchtower, and thinking once again of my favorite equation for enoughness.
While getting to see Lofoten’s rugged peaks from the water was a welcome change in perspective, the greatest gift of our journey to Tromsø was the number of surprising connections it held.
To land in Stockholm, and have my first port-of-call be a place that some of my best friends had stayed in not two months earlier, was a welcome point of connection to my San Francisco community.
My time on Lofoten so far has reminded me of one of my favorite life lessons—that no matter how well we think we know what we need from a journey, sometimes the universe knows even better…
Here in Catalonia, where there’s such a debate taking place over the region’s future, it seemed all the more important—vital, even—to understand Girona’s past before I could begin to imagine its path forward.
For me, every connection is a tiny knot in the thousand fraying threads we carry with us. Every encounter is a part of the larger tapestry coming to life, slowly being woven into significance.
If sketching the mural in Athens taught me anything, it’s that new ideas do indeed have a way of stretching our minds, just as windows are opened to the coming of spring.
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.