Traveling Lens

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Travel is the sum of the questions that run through your mind when you rest your weary head on a strange pillow at the end of a night; a night full of answers that sit just out of reach of fingertips that clutch wild hearts beating to the rhythm of...


Travel is the sum of the questions that run through your mind when you rest your weary head on a strange pillow at the end of a night;

a night full of answers that sit just out of reach of fingertips that clutch wild hearts beating to the rhythm of possibility. 


It’s all of the “I could(s)” and “If only(s)” that slide across the inside of eyelids accompanied by dreamscapes constructed by the randomness of exchanges in places that are both strange and yet feel like a home.

It’s the breeze that brushes against trailed off sentences;

a current that pushes against the edge of circumstance where words fail. 



Cuba. Rainforest path. November 2015.