January 16th, 2020 - occasions
May 16, 2012 is the day I set out for my journey, so in theory I send out a monthly newsletter around that time. In practice, this fickle newsletter is sporadic at best and you never know when it’ll hit you. If you want these unpredictable updates delivered straight to your inbox, sign up here:
I hope this new year has been treating you kindly so far and that it has great plans for you, and you for it. You missed a lot since my last newsletter and how could you not have, when I didn’t say anything? It has become clear by now that my fickle newsletter is sporadic at best, so you can never know when it’ll hit you. It’s got an element of surprise, much like the life that writes these narratives for me.
Now, without further ado, let me bring you up to speed with a speedy update, rich in pictures and short on lengthy stories, so that even the most limited attention spans can accommodate this journey.
Montreal has been a real Montreal last year and I was there for it all: short spring, short summer, short fall, winter winter winter. One lovely day in fall I left for a little two week trip to Seattle, Portland and Vancouver, but that fall was never heard of again. Upon my return, winter had rolled out the white carpet and it’s been in perpetual snow-slush-snow-flux ever since.
The last months brimmed with occasions to point the lens at people, so let me distill a blend of highlights for you:
Catch some of my latest glimpses:
glimpse: COMMUNAL COMMUTE | Day in, day out, day in, day out, day in, day out... Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Monday. Allies aligned in highway lanes, side by side through dawn and dusk. Calendar days and weeks and months flying by like road signs, years and decades going past, until the exit.
glimpse: TIME SHARDS | Then I slowly turned around, wiped the dust off my shoulders, and started picking up those time shards. The youth yonders and coastal frontiers, where we lost wasted fears in our liquor tears. Disposable second selves we stole from supermarket shelves, honest robberies with indifferent intentions, our knuckles still so shy. Those bright nights of twisted lights and burning turns, when muddy visions made for handsome decisions. The way molten words dripped from our fire lips and galactic hopes boiled in our kettle hearts. Soul runs to the nearest heaven, blind break-ins at the wrong gates, trespassing artists with wings for feet. Just once more I want to climb onto those rolling stones that were our shaky thrones, put on my filthy crown to cover this metallic frown, find golden change in my leaky pockets, drink from rusty faucets, indulge the flickering dreams of emerald streams where I sing my silent song forever long, walk through those lava marshlands, sinking into the dawn with a most innocent yawn.
Here are a few recent pieces from the country section:
New York / Dream Arrival: Jamming Untamed Imagination into Tight Realities
a story of a dream coming truer and a city that was smaller the second time around
...there was certainly something endearing in that city coming down to earth from its pedestal... explore
Himalayas / Hiking Alone, Astray & Everestless
when you set out to see Everest, but Everest doesn’t care
And after a while, seeing or not seeing Everest became a mere matter of perspective. explore
Athens / The Rise and Fall of Empires
Former empires might have traded their swords for pencils, yet the battlefields remain and the war for growth and power goes on. explore
Nur-Sultan (Astana) / The Surreal Deal
arbitrary travel moments you never could have imagined
In a way, I’m sleeping the dreamy sleep of extraordinary travel routine. But every now and then, I wake to the almost absurd reality of a situation I never could have imagined and the vastly arbitrary nature of these instances bestows a surreal feel upon me. explore
where to next
Nowhere. I’m snowed in.
July 25th, 2017 - idle facade, busy behind the scenes