Those Patagonian horizons were ripe with raw promises, perpetually beyond one’s grasp, tantalizing without harm or hurt. And so were the dark seas behind those rough coastlines of Newfoundland, the North of this tall continent mirroring the South and vice versa. The jungle in the middle was the opposite – so tangible that it could bite you – and those volcanoes with their ashy breath were all up in your face too. The glaciers looked like petrified tsunamis, and the psychedelic lagoons like glitches, and that altitude canyon like an abyss in the sky.
glimpse: AUTUMN IN SPRING | In my calendar it said spring, but down there the kaleidoscopic foliage read autumn and being mistaken had never been prettier.
glimpse: CHANGE | Peeking out through the tiny peephole of our perishable human dimension, earth seems immutable. Rock-solid cliffs look like they always have been and always will be. Yet, the face of the earth is changing as it ages, just like ours, just a little slower. Future generations will have to redraw the physical map according to what erosion, climate change, and tectonic movements dictate. And tectonic change is bound to happen on that political map too, as society has its say, pushing or erasing arbitrary borders with pencils or tanks. We will all be moved by this constant and inevitable change, one way or another, literally and figuratively. Those who desperately cling to the known, might find that it doesn’t have much grip. Those who welcome the unknown might find comfort in the embrace of change.
Cuyabeno, Amazon / Ecuador· 2012 tree entourage
Huaraz / Peru · 2013 fullview
Patagonia / Hitchhiking Chronicles & Mundane Waiting
why waiting doesn’t feel like leisure
Just why do moments of waiting feel so dull and wasted? Why do we have to “kill” that time? explore
Must I Really Though?
When musts outnumber wants in your wanderlust soles
...aren’t most of us out here, strapped into our backpacks, to declare guerrilla war on bleak society regimes with Mondays? Every child is more of a rebel, when Mom allots musts... read more
Port Rexton / Only Passing Through: Unsung Towns of Unknown Dreams
the welcome delusion of scratching a place's surface without digging deeper
For it is in the unknown where imagination lives and in the foreigner’s head any town can tell any story. explore