This Fort

Across the River, A Fort- A Brief Reflection on Traveling

Old Fort Western

Old Fort Western, Augusta Maine I have this thing (which I believe that most travelers share) of not being able to visit a new place without imagining, even for a moment, what it would be like to live there. To imagine your everyday routines in a different location, the mundane becoming new and the reevaluation of life through the lens of exploration. Where would you drink your coffee at, would that corner store stock your particular brand of cereal? Would you and the grocer share idle small talk about the weather?

Maine PhotographyIt doesn’t have to be a particularly noteworthy location to inspire these thoughts, somewhere shiny, glamorous and filled to bursting with things to explore and discover, a metropolis lit ablaze. Nor does it have to be remote and quiet, the remote and rustic cabin in the mountains, where you could imagine dusting away the twilight years surrounded by books and nature. It could be either or both, the same or a fair stance in between.

Augusta, Maine photography

Old Fort Western Augusta Maine River photography Anywhere i’ve ever traveling to, from gridlocked Boston to weird New Jersey, the blasting wind fields of Kansas to the  rugged twisting coastline of California,  boisterous Boulder and cool-kid-aestetic Santa Fe, to all the little place far and in-between, population 300 to population no idea there are millions here, I’ve placed myself deep in the soil and planted roots, just for a moment.

Augusta Maine, across the banks

Augusta Maine Landscape Riverfront photography

Sure, I have favorites. Who can visit Sausalito without falling in love a little.Who doesn’t wish to spend months on end in Manhattans endless museums? But theres the outliers, the Pigeon Forge, Tennessee  a whirlwind neon madness let loose at the foothills of the Smokey Mountains. Maybe you only spend half an hour there, a flash frozen memory in between giants that take up the real space in your head and heart, like the morning I spent in Grants Pass that I always seem to forget about except when prompted…

 

This Fort

Augusta Maine, Waterfront Buildings

Kat, the Lovely Kat

It doesn’t much matter the place I guess. It’s more about the mindset you have when you’re traveling, even if it’s just half a half hour from home. Arriving somewhere new, with an open,kind mind and letting yourself slip into the illusion of belonging to this place. It could be the longing to belong in what might perhaps be the perfect place to call home, or it might just be a passing whimsy, but either way it’s a lovely moment to pause and consider a different future, or to more fully appreciate where you already call home.

~m

P.S these photographs where taken in Augusta, Maine. I talked more about the time I spent there in this post.

Cupcakes, coffee and art journals

Drink Coffee, Make Art, Stay Humble- Art Journal Monday

Little Buildings, art journalling in texas

The current mood in the air here  in Northern Texas is one full of anticipation. The weather has finally started to get cooler, dropping from the triple digits into the reasonable 70’s most days. The feeling of wanting to escape, from the heat-the stress of school-impending 4th quarter craziness- whatever, has faded for now, replaced by a quiet contentment. I’ve taken to rolling around the hundreds of farm roads, short cuts and even literal dirt roads,  exploring the small little-heard of towns around here now that I don’t have to worry about the car overheating, leaving me stuck some where only cows might find me.

and you were standing there" sf sketchart time and coffee Drink Coffee, Make Art, Stay Humble Art

Coffee, wanderlust, and sketching random little things has been my jam for the last 2 weeks, as well as just trying my best to keep positive and not let little clumps of stress get to me. I’ve finally figured out the direction I want my etsy shop to head into, and to the surprise of literally no one, its headed in the direction of mountains. So  here I go, diving into topography maps, dipping into the tiny house movement some more, memorizing the shape of mountain ranges and spilling graphite all over my pages in the name of orogenesis.

Sketching sketch sketch SFscribbles in my journalCupcakes, coffee and art journalsQuit your job, come with me

September is halfway over, but I’m trying to think of it in the way of ” half full anyways”  instead, besides which my eyes are shinning with the gleam of looking ahead instead of looking back and things seem capable of anything. The only real negative in sight is that I still have a backlog of photographs to go through stretching back to January and a yearning to get out and shoot more more more so someone needs to take my camera away from me for a little bit, and lock me in my studio for an uninterrupted day. Bring lots o’ coffee.

~m

Kat in the rivers of New Hampshire

Wandering the Bedrock in Converse- New Hampshire Adventures

River Exploring in New Hampshire

These photos are from me and my good friend Kats 2 week adventure back at the end of May. We started with 3 days in NYC after which we took a bus up to Boston where we rented a bitchin’ Mustang we nicknamed Sally for a 5 days roadtrip.  We ended up exploring in Maine , and while I still have a couple of photos to edit and post from the Maine part of the journey, I  wanted to go through these first, just to remember…

The Lovely Kat in New Hampshire The Sky Here above the trees, New Hampshire New Hampshire river photography New Hampshire river and Kat Lets go to New Hampshire, White Mountains Kat in the rivers of New Hampshire New Hampshire rivers New Hampshire riverbed Exploring with Kat in New Hampshires rivers Exploring in New Hampshires rivers

Good times. Just, really good times.

I love big city architecture, museums bustling with exhibits, greasy spoon diners, small towns with tiny coffee shops, and rolling down the highways with classic rock blasting. You know, the usual things you would expect a traveler to like. But laying down on cool rocks after a long day of driving, not a single person around except for the person laughing on the rocks next to you, it’s going down as something I want to experience again and again.

~m

Walcott and Washington, Pilot Point

Old Cars and Dusty Roadways- Pilot Point, Texas

Vintage cars in Pilot Point Texas Pats Auto Sales, Pilot Point PhotographyOld gas station in Pilot Point Texas Pilot Point cars, photography in texas pilot point gas station Walcott and Washington, Pilot Point Been a little bit busier than expected this past week and I’ve been lacking in my posting on here because of it, so here’s a quick one with some photos from the mini-roadtrip I took around northern Texas last weekend. Me and the bf left around noon and didn’t come back till 7pm, wandering around farm roads, coasting on the edges of lakes and getting lost in the LBJ Grasslands. I popped cornnuts and iced tea in the passenger seat, playing music and enjoying the landscape, keeping my eye out for places to explore and (not) trespass.

I still have photos from my may trip all over the East Coast to post, not to mention the ones from my recent adventure in Colorado, and  when you add the ones I took on this jaunt… I’m honestly thinking of listening to chillvibe mixes on 8tracks and editing/curating for a solid 12 hours, before I indadvertedly end up on another trip, since a friend  recently mentioned Seattle in November as a good idea.  Ah well, Happy September!

~m 

read me yo! note

Read me, yo! – Renewing the love for Mail Snails, always

all the postcards!

Oh snailmail, you’re a tough mistress sometimes.

When you’re taking pen to paper, slipping notes and postcards, teas and trinkets, letters and doodles inside an envelope and sending it off to someone you care about but maybe don’t actually know well, it’s both exhilarating and terrifying. You wonder if the letter could get lost in transit, perhaps an unexpected accident could rain down on your carefully plotted out words and smear them into an incoherent mess. And even if the letters gets safely to it’s destination, what if the words you wrote incite odd reactions, this isn’t instant messaging of any kind, you can’t take back the words you set down, whats there is there till at least a couple of weeks later when you get a reply back.

love and snailmail seashells and notes, snailmail tied with ribbon and love, snailmail

August was a bit of a tumultuous month, when it came to snailmail,penpals and friendships in general. I got behind on my mail again, then got caught up, and then got right back underneath the pile again. A friendship that I had put too much time into melted to nothing, leaving me  with piles of useless adjectives, while another one that I had been slowly growing into for years surprised me with the warm joy that comes from advice that only someone who knows and cares for you can give. I met some new penpals to shake stamps at, and faded away from some without much evidence left over. And now …well, September is here. I’m prepping boxes to send to England, planning a quick trip to Forth Worth to pick up more postcards to send to people from the grand ole’ state of Texas, and wondering about taking on a couple of new penpals if I find them.

dreamin of mountainscolorado postcardread me yo! note

Gun-pressed-to-my-forehead moment of honestly though?  I will always adore and enjoy snailmail,  even with any of the bad memories attached of friendships lost or just slowly dissolved. My love for a wider understanding of languages and barriers,of different horizons and the shapes of mountains everywhere… it wouldn’t be there without the letters and postcards, messages and late texts i’ve sent and received these past 5 years, and I don’t know if I would like the person I could be without those experiences. So, on to another 5 more years, filled with letters and even more postcards, odd trinkets and badly drawn dinosaurs,  single serve bags of tea and plastic wrapped bars of chocolate, midnight charades and mid morning life questions. Friendship is here, slipped in between the wrinkled pages and love is soaked, little by little, in the time we take to write out our words to each other, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

~m

P.s anyone looking into the idea of exchanging letters/postcards/weirdly drawn doodles/exchanging lists of must-read-books/mix cds/ or just curious, feel free to email me at fablesandcoffee@gmail.com or find me on interpals if you have an account there.