Culver City, CA

There was a time when people from New York City just said, "I'm from New York." The 'city' was implied and their borough never mentioned when few outside of the city knew how many there were let alone their names. Now, Brooklyn is B.I.G. (pun definitely intended). And Queens, the Bronx, and Staten Island steadily gaining some r.e.s.p.e.c.t. But wait, what about Manhattan? Well, as witnessed through my cousin eyes who came to visit from Portugal -- "It looks exactly like the movies!!" -- for me, Manhattan is the O.G. The NYC seen and awed worldwide.

What my cousin might not know is how a good number of movies are filmed in studios lots, where "NYC" looks more like NYC than the city itself at the moment. (How long before yellow cabs are extinct? Yes, I'm looking at you Uber, Lyft, Gett, and any Othr ride-share app.) But what I didn't know (not much!) until I travelled west, is how most of those studio lots are in "Culver City, where Hollywood Movies are made."

Siena, Italy

My first inkling that the world was crazy was in a box of crayons. "Burnt Sienna. But what's sienna?? Why not red-brown??" Cue: grumbling nine year old. Still, it quickly became one my favourite colours because I found it more calming than blue. Not long after I learned of a town in Italy named Siena from a black and white photograph. It was of the Il Palio, the famous race where horses representing each contrade, or neighbourhood, run around a tiny track. But is Siena sienna? I thought then.

All. Over.

Burlington, VT

Post-Election Addendum: ::SIGH:: I nailed the Brexit outcome so I was surprised by my surprise that evening. I was rooting for you Bernie :/ Maybe I'm an optimist because I do see hope. When my class in elementary school befriended Bill on Capitol Hill I didn't think I would ever live to see an African-American President let alone a strong Third Party candidate shortly after his second term. Maybe we're almost there*, almost to the CHANGE we all crave for in D.C., but maybe in four years. Or maybe in two, when we vote to change up Congress a bit. So for the time being let's have faith in his steep, steep, steep, learning curve in D.C. 

* Nix that, we are there. Our antiquated voting system just needs to effin' change along with D.C.


There are so many answers to the elusive "What is love?" But here's my test: as batty as the person sleeping next to you makes you feel, you have no urge to smother them with your pillow. In fact, the opposite happens. You feel your heart swelling, no, expanding -- and this is the key. If it doesn't happen you may not love the person, though you may be in love. In a slightly different version of my test, the one applied to places because we do have relationships with them, Bellingham failed over and over again. It just wasn't meant to be when I felt my lungs -- not my heart -- expanding to shout, "Ay yi yi, you probably have bananas on your kitchen counter!" To the often asked, "Did you bike here?" Here being any establishment built using reclaimed ___, selling local ___ and home-brewed ___. My cushionless ass had better things to prove than a point by enduring the pain on a mildly cushioned seat for more than 20 minutes in the rain, hail, snow, and occasional sun.

Yet, after our separation, I longed to visit Burlington for all the reasons I was in love with Bellingham: water, the earth in one's food, and connectedness. Oh, and chocolate. Lake Champlain Chocolates are some of my favourite building blocks of serotonin. When I signed up for the tour after eating my sample, I was as happy as happy can be. Taking a seat in front of the glass window separating the addicts from their dealers, I wondered why they were working in a lab rather than Willy Wonka's chocolate factory...

"Welcome to Lake Champlain factory! To our right is our factory. Since we're a chocolatier and not a bean to bar chocolate maker, I'll be providing the tour from your seats." #saywhaaaat

Cleveland, OH

How can timing be impeccable? The phrase basically implies there's only one orchestra to life on this planet, which seems silly. Still, that's not to say I don't silently revel when I'm "with the times". And if the timing is damn well triumphant, I've been known to shimmy and gloat. It's an out-of-body experience of sorts because I see how NOT with it I am, but can't. stop.

During a lull at work recently, I decided to browse The New York Times travel section, "Let's see where yuppies are headed this year." I don't know how I didn't go all up James Brown when I read "36 hours in Cleveland" HA! I was there in January -- I should be writing this column!

Québec City, Canada

Sometimes, I want winter to last forever. Yeah, yeah, it finally feels like April (A and B conversation so C your way out California... and Texas... and Florida), but hear me out. When we waddle around like penguins from January through March, time too waddles around. Hell, for three months we're giving it flight: Ground Hog's Day, Valentine's Day, St. Patrick's Day, and why isn't Congress recognizing National Nothing Day? Imagine how s. l. o. w time would pass until spring without these "holidays". So what to make of a city when you have to pack a coat for it in July? La belle vie, n'est-ce pas?

Somerville, MA

Friends, I have reached a milestone in my life. My name is in Urban Dictionary. Normally this wouldn't be a cause to celebrate, not when the virtual dictionary defines every idiom and name in the English language. But that's just it, I don't have an English name. To the three people who added their three lovely definitions -- VIP bottle service for all y'all.

Only another wanton deed can justify yesterday's narcissism, procrastination. I had to double check (double check? good lord) the meaning before beginning to write -- and everyone else's. To my amazement, the ten people (<-- nerd alert) I researched embodied their name in a profound way. Are names just words or something more? The data is mixed. My theory, when a name represents a place, we instinctively form attributes. What comes mind when you see a town called Hazardville on the highway? What comes to mind when you learn there's a Somerville in New England? See, you're already smiling.

Long Island City, NY

How is it I'm having such a difficult time writing about the U.S. city to visit in 2015? A city that has the largest rooftop farm in the New York City metro area. A city that doesn't list 'Ethnic' on their grocery aisle signs. A city where you can have an entire floor of art all to yourself -- how?? -- exactly.

Philadelphia, PA

Since starting this little blog, I've been reading more and more about the city walkability index or Walk Score. Devised by angel investors (red flag #1) and a think tank, the site and their products (e.g. apps) helps you (you meaning you and me, and real estate agents -- red flag #2) find a walkable place to live based on their Walk Score, Transit Score, and Bike Score. After clicking on every hyperlink (even those small wayward ones), their mission to "promote more walkable neighborhoods" seems less of a priority than their vision, "for every property listing to read: Beds: 3 Baths: 2 Walk Score: 84" (red flag #3). Three red flags and I am officially skeptical. This thing can't be that accurate when their real schtick is selling their product to real estate agents and firms, can it??

It can and it is. Borderline scary accurate. By the time I entered my fourth previous address, my exclamations were starting to sound like the Pixies (4th stanza, last line) yet again. Don't you hate it when technology makes your life slightly better? But what is better when it comes to where you live? If you lived in a city where you could walk a few blocks for your daily errands, yet had to squeeze yourself in a mass transit sardine can twice a day Monday through Friday, would that be better than the city where you walked everywhere most of the time, including times in snow, rain, heat, or the gloom of night*? My cousin and her husband prefer the latter, "You're supposed to walk in a city. Not spend half of your time and day underground in a subway!" Both of them lived in New York City before moving to Philadelphia. And separately, both of them told me, "Philadelphia is a real city. Not New York City."

Real Independence Hall

Fake Independence Hall

Jackson Hole, WY

I can assure you, that regardless if you're male, female, straight, gay, trans, queer, asexual, or alien, there is a pubescent teenage boy within all of us. And maybe, maybe, if we let his crass wily ways manifest every so often, he'll remind everyone to stop being so darn serious all the time.

I mean, it's a fur jockstrap...

St. John, U.S. Virgin Islands

Good lord, I've been staring at this screen for 45 minutes (lie: I've been reading about dumb shit -- way too embarrassed to link it back here) and I still got nothin'. I have a theory though: it's difficult to write about islands, especially Caribbean islands. No one wants to read about crystal or turquoise waters nowadays, they want to see them. With that, let's welcome Ms. Turquoise and Ms. Crystal to the stage [applause]! Don't be shy now ladies, come on out...

Fez, Morocco

My first exposure to the word Fez came in the form of something very similar to this picture. Had I known the phrase "Wtf??" in elementary school, I would've said or thought it. I mean, who else but potbellied white men would be this happy when the Gulf War had just begun? And what were they doing wearing hats with tassels and Arabic names in glitter? Are they trying to make fun of me?? Somehow my grandfather knew what I was thinking, and somehow he knew they were representing Shriners Children's Hospital. Great cause, funny looking hat.

I was so sure our time in Fez would be spent in jest or competition -- Who spotted the most Fez hats in Fez! --  of course, I ended up feeling like a tactless potbellied white American man instead.

(Image courtesy of North Iowa Today)

Tulsa, OK

I love photography because it's the closest thing to the one superpower I would want if I could have one superpower, the ability to read people's mind. Growing up I would try telepathy to will confessions. When it would work, more than less surprisingly, it scared the bejesus out of me so I stopped doing it. And bless those early mates that suffered the insufferable, "What are you thinking of?" (Are you cringing? 'Cause I'm effin' cringing admitting that.) Eventually, to the relief of my future mates, I noticed photography for what it really is.

This photograph isn't telling of a place, nor of my thoughts as to why I snapped the image in the first place, but I hope my photograph relays that there was a thought before the snap. The minute the breeze gusted, and the second it blew his tie and he bowed his head, as if a formal greeting but more to keep his Panama hat on, I mused, "That's Tulsa to a T". Well, Tulsa when it was known as the "Oil Capital of the World" in the 20's or "America's Most Beautiful City" in the 50's. And if the wind didn't billow suddenly, my "T' would've seemed like mockery in Tornado Alley.

I'm not telling you all this to win brownie points. Whether or not it's intentional, I feel like that happens too often when artists explain their work. Rather, I'm trying to detail another thing I love about photography and often debated, luck.

Hot Springs, AK

I think it's clear where my mind is these days if I'm choosing Hot Springs, AK for this week's post. Enough winter, enough. Thankfully you're showing me some mercy tomorrow because it's going to be a balmy 59 degrees. Ten away from 69. If by some miracle the thermometer reaches anywhere near that lascivious number, undoubtedly I'll saunter about like I just had an afternoon delight. Kind of like this oblivious fellow...

New Orleans, LA

Some of my favourite foods are simple affairs. Done right, and I'll want to devour it until my dying days. Done wrong and my quest to find the perfect morsel merely continues. The doughnut is one of these trysts. How difficult is it to eff up what is essentially fried dough covered in sugar? Surprisingly, very easy. Especially if one of the ingredients is "defatted soy flour*" (??) à la Dunkin' Donuts. This is why I eyed the Everest of powdered sugar on my beignet skeptically, It can't be as good as everyone says it is. All that sugar must be compensating for something...

My senses must have been in a maelstrom thanks to the Hurricane we had earlier because I was forgetting one important fact -- we were in New Orleans. The only American city famous for its Mardi Gras festival. The beignet was transcendental, and the excess, perfect sense. 

Tokyo, Japan

Forgive me if I sound like a curmudgeon, but god do the weeks leading up to New Year's Eve suck. All the that pressure to do something great, (it's official, I'm a geek -- I'm so excited about my new sparkly font!) on top of the guilt for the things you haven't done, fixed, or stopped in the passing year; and add to this soul degenerating equation, unrealistic expectations for the following year. It's horrible, preposterous really. It makes me want to move to Mars.

Speaking of Mars, is anyone else surprised how our species hasn't colonized it by now, or the moon at the very least? What happened to the future of The Jetsons or the one in Back to the Future II? It's almost 2014 people, we should have shit like Amazon drones by now! (Okay, using 'drones' in our current political climate wasn't the best PR move, still, it's pretty cool.)

Given all that you've heard or read about Tokyo, it's clear where I'm going with the preceding blather. That future, the one in The Jetsons and Back to the Future, the one where I couldn't wait to 'grow-up' just so I could be in The Future, is almost here in Tokyo. The button to the far right will mask any hint of your business in a public restroom. As someone who shamefully wastes water as a houseguest/we're friends but not that close/it's only our third date, you're not my boyfriend -- pressing that button was music to my ears.

Essaouira, Morocco

Tongue tied? Pronounce 'oui' like the French and you're all set. It's not a coincidence either since Essaouira was designed by the French architect Théodore Cornut. For once it's wasn't because of colonialism. He was forced to do it as a prisoner for the Sultan of Morocco in the 18th century. Hey, at least he wasn't stuck frying cronuts all day long. (Don't act like you didn't have to read his last name twice!)

The name itself, Essaouira, means "The Beautifully Designed". Unlike the honeycomb alleyways of Fez or Marrakech, you can't get lost in Essaouira due to its grid layout. The tourist is spared that suffocating existential question, How the #*%& did I get so lost?? Amazingly enough, Mr. Cornut wasn't bitter. It's so easy here.

National Parks, CA

Did you know California has the most national parks out of any other state? It has nine. Nine?! I'm surprised but shouldn't be considering it has everything else, beaches, mountains, sun, good Mexican for two bucks, I could go on. It's Marcia Brady of the fifty states. Is there anything this state doesn't have? Oh, wait, money. I didn't watch the show religiously, but Jan did seem like the smartest Brady. (It was probably the glasses --dumb TV stereotypes corrupting my young brain!)

Back to the nine national parks, thus far I've been to two. These are pictures from the second one, Death Valley National Park. The first national park I visited in California, in America to be precise, was Sequoia. I went there when I was seven or eight. If I cared about photography then I might be a professional photographer by now. Regardless, I was too busy estimating the possibility of Jack's beanstalk or if any of the giant sequoias could produce a giant peach. It's the best national park for kids because suddenly make-believe seems pretty darn real next to this. Yeah, slap me silly next time I complain about my childhood.

View from Dante's Peak

Los Angeles, CA

I admire anyone trying to learn English as their second language. It's no joke. They'll master the grammar fairly quickly, but the subtle meanings for one word are astounding. No dictionary is going to list every known definition. Take the word crazy, there's the literal definition but it's often used to describe a place. New York City is crazy, so is Los Angeles, but they're crazy in completely different ways. How to explain this to someone who asks, "What's Los Angeles like?" Sometimes it's best to let images speak for themselves, even moving images. Most movies tell a story about a character, some about a place through the characters, and you only need to watch Crash and Mulholland Drive to come to know the crazy which defines Los Angeles.

Don't worry, I didn't forget you Mr. or Ms. "I don't have the time to watch two two-hour long movies?!" Here are my favourite images of L.A., starting with downtown L.A.'s woodland themed cafeteria known as Clifton's. One word, awesome.

Ellensburg, WA

Someone recently asked me, "What prompted you to visit Ellensburg? Not many people know of the town." I paused, I had just met this person. Would I look daft if I told him the truth? I was too hungry to assess, "You know those brown historical signs on highways? There's one on I-90 for Ellensburg. Every time I drove passed it I wondered what it was like. I stopped making excuses when I started my cross-country road trip, it was my first stop".

I couldn't have been happier taking the exit to Ellensburg. It was like biting into a Girl's Scout cookie. That first bite is nearly spine-tingling because you pine for them all year. To my further delight, it was a gorgeous autumn day and The Kittitas County Farmers Market was well under way.

San Juan Islands, WA

How I came to live near such splendor and capture it not once, but multiple times, baffles me. It helps that Chuckanut Drive is one of America's most scenic byways, and sometimes I timed my drives with an evening's sunset. Still, I'll be forever grateful. 

But, I'm not a saint. I have my moments of cynic clarity (oh dear, it's starting already...) On cloudy days I often thought Bellingham Bay looked like a gigantic lake since the San Juan islands block the horizon from the city. However clear days proved me wrong, very wrong, and at sunset I was reduced to a speck in nature's diorama. There are so many words to describe the islands, but I knew them best from afar. Alluring, beguiling, like the charmer everyone loves but few know.