doctoral candidate in rhetoric and scientific and technical communication
travel
need some wheels
0
Okay, not really. I don’t mind walking around cities but when you’re walking, walking, and walking to get from place A to place B and then you’re walking in place A AND place B, on concrete, marble, or whatever other hard surface they can find to line the floors/streets with, your feet are bound to get tired.
I have probably walked 30 miles or so in the last few days. Georgetown, Arlington, the Capitol, the Smithsonian, to the Metro stations (not that I take them all of the time). I take long ways around to get to a coffee shop for a chai or a muffin on my way. I will walk and walk to find the right thing for lunch.
By the time I collapse (and I do mean collapse) into bed at night, my legs and feet are worn out.
But my heart and mind are happy.
traveling
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The airplane flights were interesting.
I flew out of Flagstaff on one of the Mesa Airlines flights. They are little airplanes and I had the middle seat in the back row (5 seats across, my legs went down the aisle). I sat next to a woman with a very small child who was bouncing around. But, really, it wasn’t so bad.
I had 40 minutes to run all the way across the terminal to get to my next flight. I don’t know why they do that.
So I used the people-movers and got there as fast as I could. I got there with 15 minutes to spare and was able to buy something to eat on the long flight.
I had a really big guy in front of me, another big guy behind me, and a fairly large guy next to me (I was surrounded by men. The guy in front of me kept pushing back and my knees were hitting the seat (I’m pretty tall and have long legs). The guy behind me kept pushing his knees into my kidneys (and I hadn’t even reclined my seat). They guy next to me spread his legs wide so mine were pushed to the side and he took the armrests so my arms were pushed to the side.
By the time I got off the plane, I was sore. I had to take time to stretch and get my muscles back in order.
–
Yesterday we went to the National Zoo. It’s a free zoo here in the Capital. We took the Metro and walked past a bunch of Irish pubs that were celebrating even at 10 a.m. It was making me laugh.
The zoo was wonderful. I got to see the baby panda and he was delightful. The elephants, giraffe, and great apes were amazing.
Today I’m going to wander around and get acclimated to the city. It’s hard for me to know which way is which without mountains so I have to figure out how to know which way is which.
on the move
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Tomorrow at this time, I will be on the airplane, speeding my way toward this nation’s capital, Washington, DC.
I’m very excited. I’m going to see some old friends, see a new city, and traipse around museums. I can’t think of a better way to spend my spring break.
There is so much to see there. People are suggesting things left and right and EVERYONE is telling me to take lot’s and lot’s of pictures.
Hah. That’s funny. As if I need to be told to do something that I absolutely love to do.
This is a city that I’ve wanted to visit for a very long time. I’ve put it off the past few years because I kept taking my vacations in Vancouver to visit someone. This time, though, it worked out perfectly.
I’ve seen so many pictures of the city and have spent time dreaming about seeing the sights myself.
Isn’t that funny? I’ve dreamt about DC. Mostly people would say Paris or Rome or Athens. Me…I dream of DC.
I think part of it is because I’m a history buff. Plus, there are museums!!!
Did I mention museums?
Heh.
I’m such a dork, I swear. ;-)
crossing
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Plans change. Things move on. I’m crossing over to a different way of thinking about my life and the things that happen within it.
I won’t be going to Vancouver, unfortunately. It is unfortunate. My friend changed his mind and asked me not to come.
Sure, I could have gotten a hotel room and still gone by myself but I would have thought about the “what-ifs” the entire time.
And another friend said I could stay with him and we could have “fun” without any of the difficulties of trying to build a relationship. But you know what? I think I have more respect for myself than to do that. I know myself, too. When I do those things, I hate myself for it. I feel cheap and used and I don’t want to feel that way about myself.
So I’m being proactive and doing something for me.
I’m going somewhere I’ve always wanted to go and doing things I’ve always wanted to do.
It’s not Vancouver but it holds great appeal for me.
I’m going to our nation’s capital, Washington, D.C. I’ve always wanted to wander around the museums and walk around the city taking photographs. It’s a photographer’s dream, I think.
So I’m going to do that. I’m going to go and have fun.
And if any of you happen to live in the area and would like to have dinner or lunch some day, let me know. I’ll be there between March 16-25.
looking in
06 years ago
Yesterday I bought my plane tickets to Vancouver. To say I’m excited is an understatement. I fell in love with that city. It is beautiful in ways that are impossible to describe.
I can’t tell you how it feels to stand on a landing and watch a storm come in and envelope the city. I can’t explain the peace of riding a very crowded express bus along the highway but between the towering trees of Stanley Park.
I can’t begin to convey how much the melding of ocean and mountains touches me.
Vancouver takes my breath away.
But mostly, it’s the people I visit, the people I meet along the way. They are what make the trips especially joyful.
I’m an interloper on this beautiful city. I’m not an inhabitant of the city nor even the country. I’m being allowed in by the good graces of the people of Canada.
And I appreciate that more than they can ever know.
if wishes were fishes
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I have love affairs with cities. Some of the most beautiful cities in the world have been at the center of my fantasies: San Francisco, Edinburgh, and Vancouver. I have even had a love affair with London with its amazing museums and rich history. I could lose myself in those winding streets and emerge, after dusk, happy and satisfied, filled on the delights of the city.
My current love affair is Vancouver. I long to see her again, to taste the salt air on my lips, to breath in the pine-scented breeze.
I didn’t get to see enough on the three trips I took in the last year. It wasn’t nearly enough.
I want to taste, smell, hear, feel, and see more.
I long to walk along the streets and pop in somewhere for fresh sushi.
I want to wander around the library until I find that perfect place to sit and read and watch and listen.
I want to walk along the shore and hear the tide roll in.
I’m craving it.
While my love affairs are most definitely one-sided, they are love affairs. I miss the cities that I fall in love with. I wish to be with them.
The thing about cities, though, is that they never fail me. They continue on, enticing me, never disappointing because I have seen their flaws, their dirty laundry and their scars and I still love them.
Oh, Vancouver…
bug
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I’m getting the travel bug again. It’s been about seven months since I’ve traveled outside of Arizona (I’ve gone down to Phoenix four times in as many months). I am getting pangs of desire to go see something new.
In the last year (or so), I have been to Vancouver three times. I absolutely loved the city and the Island. I could have stayed there and been perfectly happy.
Now, I’m jonesing for a trip further away. I have been thinking about Spain for the last few years. I’d like to travel around Spain and see the sites off the beaten path. I’ve been reading a book that is set in Barcelona and it makes me yearn to go there.
I’ve also had a craving to visit Italy. I want to walk around the narrow streets of some quiet town, taking photographs of cool doors, windows, and balconies. I want to see colors that are different than the ones I’m seeing here.
I may go to San Diego over the winter holiday break. I’m thinking about Denver over spring break. I’d like to get out to Washington D.C., as well. I’m thinking about New Orleans.
But really, I want to go a bit further. I want to get out there and experience the world, enjoy what it has to offer.
While I don’t necessarily want to travel alone, I don’t have many choices in that arena. And, when I travel alone, I’m able to see the things I’d like to see without having to worry if the other person is having fun.
I’m one of those people who will wander streets of a city for hours. I will take the local mass transit to get a feel for the city. I will go to “hole-in-the-wall” places for lunch. I will visit galleries and museums and parks and bookstores. I will search out places of historical merit.
And now I’m yearning to revisit London. I’d like to go to the National Gallery again. I’d like to walk past John Keats’ house again. I’d like to trip over those cobblestones along the road, past the flat where I used to live.
home
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The topic of home keeps coming up in conversations I’ve been having. How do we define home? What is home to us?
Wherever I move in the world, I still call Flagstaff home. I’m not sure why. It’s not that I’m tied to this place in any particular way EXCEPT that the land calls to me.
When I lived in London, the mountains would haunt my dreams. They would be there, speaking to me, telling me to come home. It was surreal. It was very odd.
Flagstaff, though, is a place of confusion for me. There are people here that I love more than anything. But it’s also the place where I’ve had some of the most difficult growing pains.
When I move away or travel for any length of time, I take books, photographs, and CDs. I’ve decided that’s what makes a place home for me.
If I can look at the photograph of my beautiful niece, I am home. I may not feel her arms around me but I know she’s still there and that I could, if I was in Flagstaff.
Books are my company on lonely nights. They make me feel like I’m safe in my own bed, looking up at familiar stars, hearing familiar sounds, and comfortable.
Music is the stuff of life. I associate each part of my life with music. My teens were Tears for Fears, the Pet Shop Boys, U2, and so many more. My early twenties were the sounds of the music my partner at the time played: Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin, Foreigner, and others like them.
Then I escaped and I needed music that would help soothe my soul and assist me in healing. I listened to Tori Amos – who could make me cry for hours on end. Melissa Etheridge gave voice to my anger. Alanis Morrissette sang my anthems. 10,000 Maniacs would calm me down. Van Morrison would make me cry.
And I relaxed a bit. Sarah McLachlan, Jewel, and Norah Jones came around to quiet the demons.
Through it all, though, were the Indigo Girls. It all started when I heard their Rites of Passage CD. I have had no less than 4 copies of that CD. I’d loan it out and never get it back (yes, it’s that good). I’d buy another and another. I ended up buying every CD of theirs I could find. In addition, they encourage bootleg swapping on their website and I got in on that for a summer. I have many, many CDs by them.
I read a book by Alice Walker. I listen to the Indigo Girls. I look at a photograph of my family or my beautiful beagle, Dakota.
And I am home.
I am home.
cute
0Willow and I are driving along in the Sedona area, enjoying the red rocks when I see two little quails crossing our path. I point them out to Willow and she says she’s seen quails before. She tells me about the little thing on top of their heads that wiggle.
I nod and say, “Yes, and they have red heads.”
She confirms and says to me, “But they don’t get sunburns the same way we do.”
Willow and I both redheads.
I chuckle. What more can I say to that?
life lessons
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Someone recently wrote to me and said that he wishes he lived in a place where he could take photographs of giant arrows and colorful ruins and miles and miles of barbed wire.
He lives in London.
I thought about this.
I lived in London and I took over a thousand pictures while there and it still wasn’t enough. I would love to return and shoot London in a totally different way now that my style has changed.
All of the Toronto photographers, whose work I admire greatly, and those who live in Vancouver (Canada seems to be rich with wonderful photographers) and those who live in Britain, Spain, South & Central America, and other places than here…I’ve been jealous of all of them. I’ve seen what they’ve offered and I’ve often sighed and wished I had something like THAT to photograph.
This morning I went out at 5 a.m. to catch the rising sun on the beautiful red stones of Wupatki National Monument. The sun is rising as I drive out. Dakota is sitting in the passenger seat, anxious to see where we’re going.
Nearly 40 miles outside of Flagstaff, we turn into the north entrance of the park. The sun is rising rapidly but there is a beautiful golden glow over the land. The sky is a piercing blue even at that time in the morning. It was still early, 5:30, and there was no one on the road or at the ruin sites.
We pull into Lomaki and I get out to shoot some pictures (I left Dakota in the car because dogs are not allowed on the trails).
The red stones of the ruins are glowing. My breath is taken away.
And I think to myself, what a wonderful world. (Heh…musical reference there.) I am lucky. I am surrounded by things that people travel to from around the world to visit. We have the Grand Canyon that usually draws them in. We also have the beautiful mountains, the lakes, the ruins, the red rocks, and so many other things that surround us. Photographers have been coming here for more than a century because it is so picturesque.
One of the reasons I have been trying to take more pictures of diverse things is because I want to share my world with Jonathan. I want him to be able to see the beauty of the desert southwest. It’s not the greens of Vancouver. We don’t have the amazing water. It’s a different kind of beauty. It’s stark. It’s hard to see sometimes. Pay attention, though, and it will jump right out at you.
I give a piece of myself in every photograph that I take. Whether I’m here, at home, taking pictures of the Peaks or a flower or I’m traveling to some other beautiful place, a piece of me is in each photograph. It is telling you a story about me.
If you listen closely, you will hear it.