Evidence that I am a nerd: I like transmission lines. It’s both a professional and an aesthetic interest. I like the way the geometric forms march across a landscape. I caught the moon coming up behind these ones just south of the Grand Canyon, in the Kaibab National Forest. The “forest” was more like scrubby desert. It was October 2011, and I had intended to camp out, but shortly after this photo was taken the temperature plunged to well below freezing, and I chickened out and rented a motel room instead.
–incorrigibleexplorer.

Evidence that I am a nerd: I like transmission lines. It’s both a professional and an aesthetic interest. I like the way the geometric forms march across a landscape. I caught the moon coming up behind these ones just south of the Grand Canyon, in the Kaibab National Forest. The “forest” was more like scrubby desert. It was October 2011, and I had intended to camp out, but shortly after this photo was taken the temperature plunged to well below freezing, and I chickened out and rented a motel room instead.

incorrigibleexplorer.

Giant banyan. India, 1995 via: incorrigibleexplorer.

Giant banyan. India, 1995 via: incorrigibleexplorer.

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Incorrigible Explorer: Hello, world!

I was inspired to start this blog by a comment from my brother-in-law. We had occasion to travel together in India last month, along with my husband and sister-in-law, and the experience brought us together in ways that real life never does. It also unleashed all kinds of memories for me, and I found myself recounting a lot of them.

After about a week of this, he said to me: “You have a lot of great travel stories. Have you ever thought about writing a book?”

In truth, it’s crossed my mind, but never seriously. It’s not just that I’ve never believed I had the drive to take on such a monumental, soul-baring task, although that’s been a big factor. It’s also that I’ve always felt that at best I had snippets, anecdotes, but not a cohesive narrative that could fill a book. 

And yet… his question resonated with me. I think because it felt good, after twenty years of off-and-on travels, to relive some of my experiences, which at forty are becoming harder to recall. It’s also because it was gratifying that someone found them interesting. 

And that got me thinking. A book still feels like way too much to bite off. But I suddenly saw that a blog would be much more forgiving. It wouldn’t matter if my stories were fractured, or didn’t fill a whole page, or weren’t presented in chronological order. I could just write whatever popped into my head on a given day, without having to commit to an overly torturous creative process. 

So this blog is an experiment. It’s a way to get my observations, stories and musings down in writing (and photographs), so that I don’t forget them and, hopefully, so that others will enjoy them too. When I go on new adventures, I’ll post them here. And, I’m hopeful that having an outlet will motivate me to see everyday life in a different light — even when I’m not on the road.

Incorrigible Traveler.

Please give a warm welcome to my sister-in-law. She’s  a great writer, and she has a lot of wonderful travel stories to tell you.

Josef Sudek, Czechoslovakian, 1896-1976From the Window of My Atelier1940Gelatin silver print. Taken from Art Blart.

Josef Sudek, Czechoslovakian, 1896-1976
From the Window of My Atelier
1940
Gelatin silver print. Taken from Art Blart.

“The man who has no inner-life is a slave to his surroundings.”

—Henri-Frédéric Amiel

Thank you, apoetreflects.

Dora Maar, After the Rain, 1933

Dora Maar, After the Rain, 1933

Please think about this as you go on. Breathe on the world.
Hold out your hands to it. When morning and evenings
roll along, watch how they open and close, how they
invite you to the long party that your life is.
William Stafford, from “A Valley Like This” from Even in Quiet Places (with thanks to A Poet Reflects

(via litverve)

George Edward Herbert, Girl and Butterfly. Bromide print, circa 1915. [From the National Media Museum Collection] (Thank you, liquidnight)

George Edward Herbert, Girl and Butterfly. Bromide print, circa 1915. [From the National Media Museum Collection] (Thank you, liquidnight)

I do believe in an everyday sort of magic - the inexplicable connectedness we sometimes experience with places, people, works of art and the like; the eerie appropriateness of moments of synchronicity; the whispered voice, the hidden presence, when we think we’re alone.
Andre Kertesz, Nara (Japan) November 8, 1968. Thank you, 3wings.

Andre Kertesz, Nara (Japan) November 8, 1968. Thank you, 3wings.