Somewhere at the crossroads …

one finds the Wanderlust Cafe. A meeting place, a place of respite, a place to have some exotic tea or a stiff drink, eat fruits and simple food, a place to stow your pack in a safe corner, or lay out a few trade goods for sale. Listen to foreign tongues, write or sketch in your journal, argue philosophy, send postcards and file dispatches, or just sit and dream. Send some emails (though we can't guarantee the internet is working, shrug).

There's spies and smugglers and adventurers and artists and all other sorts of low-lifes. Fortunetellers. Bards. Poets. Pilgrims. Gods and goddesses in disguise. One never knows.

Where is it? Along the Silk Road, off the Barbary Coast, on a Greek island somewhere near Delphi or Shangri-La. Hard to find, hard to miss. Under the shade of a centuries-old mango tree. Adorned by long-limbed descendants of Egyptian temple cats. A place to tie up the camels and the horses and dust off your fedora. Swap some stories, or some lies. Hatch a conspiracy. Dance if you wish. Scream if you need to. Love if you dare.

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Awaiting Departure

Leaving for Ireland in two days, and in that delicious final departure phase, where my world is narrowing and focusing on just the essentials to bring. Nervousness and excitement, too. Of course, picking the ‘right’ Visual Journal to bring, and art supplies is the most stressful yet the best part of this process. I’m going [...]

Rushing Past

Go, said the bird, for the leaves were full of children, Hidden excitedly, containing laughter. – T. S. Eliot, Four Quartets Accidental photo alchemy, a hurried photo from a moving bus.  The park in Dominica was full of people on that warm island day. Best I could do was snap a photo, and try to [...]