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…
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.
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!
An interesting place to be sure, and somewhere I almost skipped completely.
After leaving Belfast, Maine heading towards the mountains of New Hampshire just over the border, me and Kat were listening to whatever music was coming up through Sally’s rather fantastic sound system (Sally of course, being our rented Mustang. You can’t say we don’t have a sense of humour) and thinking about where to stop for lunch, when we came upon a bridge crossing murky waters. And just over that bridge, we caught a glimpse of colourful buildings, a castle-type looking thing, and somewhat deserted streets. Looking at each other, I remember I widened my eyes like a madman and ignoring the pleas of our GPS to “continue left- make a U-turn- take the next right-” we headed down a slope into the middle of what I now assume is the historic part of Maine’s capital.
Given the fact that it was early on a Sunday morning, the skies looked ready to crash rain down on everything, and maybe just a dash of good fortune, the streets were completely deserted. Not a single soul in sight. At first it caught us up in a mood of adventure and exploration, had us running around the streets, peering into shop windows and with me snapping photos every few feet but… that feeling slowly deteriorated into a paranoid sense of being in some kind of Zombie Apocalypse type situation after still not seeing any people around. We jogged back to Sally and locked our doors, huddled in our supposed safety. There was still a spirit of adventure though, and with Sally playings some zombie-fears-battling-music we headed deeper into the streets, catching glimpses of that murky river, and also of actual, living, inhabitants. Which was slightly disappointing, given the potential of zombies of course, but we pressed on. We actually came upon a great place to make a last stand, a historic fort, but…thats a post for later.
There are stories that stay with you, bits of memories that cling to inspiration and come out at unexpected times.
They can be childhood fables that were told in hurried whispers as you were being tucked into bed, or a movie you caught the tail end of 5 years ago after too many glasses of wine. A story woven into the bars of a song, lyrics too hazy to unweave till you’re in just the right state of mind.
These journal pages, they were put together at around 2 in the morning, the night before a day off, and I couldn’t quite tell you what prompted me to bust out the glue sticks and taper my thoughts down onto paper in this fashion. But i’m tempted to continue this way, at least for a bit, the cliche over caffeinated artist with glue-sticky fingers ripping papers at midnight and scrawling words out out out