coastal sun and raw
under windswept sea sandstorm

One of my favorite parts of going to the beach is finding the really tiny shells. The smaller one here has fully formed ridges and markings!

Adventure isn’t just about climbing Mount Everest. If it were, it would be limited to people with time on their hands and money in their pockets.

Adventure is about staying out when everybody else goes home, because they think the conditions are not “ideal”.

The sky is most beautiful when there are clouds in it, but if you run inside at every sign of rain, you’ll never get to see this:

Jacob’s ladder

…or this:

The calm before the storm

…or this:


So, you might get a little wet or windblown. You might get sand in your eyes, your mascara might run a bit. It might take you extra long to wash the grit and seawater out of your hair. But you’ll get dry again and clean again and wish you were still out there, living beyond the sterile and air-conditioned everyday existence.



Going to the laundromat is like stepping into a time machine. There’s a beautiful and clarifying isolation inside, amidst the womb-like hum of a dozen machines pulsing and the hypnotic fabric swirling in front of me. The anachronous furniture and decor make me forget this intrusive life I’m constantly trying and failing to adapt to; the white noise lets me hear myself think again, write again. It turns a chore into a chance to hide, even if only for twenty-three minutes, from the chaos outside its eternal door.