Six photos

Creating, percolating, traveling, and seeing / Issue 1,212

Oh, hi friends!

People walk all over the streets in Rome. On the curb, down the middle of a lane. But with slow persistence, cars and motorbikes nudge through. And people drift to the side, out of harm's way.

Deliberate forward motion will always clear some space.

I realized right before leaving that I didn't have to bring my laptop on this trip.

In fact, I shouldn't.

My backpack felt lighter without the 2.8 pounds, but the psychological weight that was lifted can't be quantified. 

Why do we carry so much? So many expectations?

I want to leave behind more items more often.

How does each walk in a new city feel quick and so full of surprises?

A mile where you live can feel endless, but a mile elsewhere is a joy.

Maybe we stop looking at the right things when we pass them every day.

Can we cultivate that way of walking and looking when we're back home?

We are told again and again that Rome is built in layers.

Catacombs, ruins, churches. Six meters down, three meters down, a few feet down.

We are all simply living on another layer now. 

There is something neat and tidy about this realization.

How many layers are left to go?

We should feel like we can do anything.

The sculptor Bernini was a master of depicting psychological realism in his subjects. Psychological realism through marble. 

Here is David in the moment he's about to take down Goliath. Furrowed brow, pursed mouth. The moment before the moment.

How would someone capture you in progress and process?

Thinking deeply, ready, prepared? Poised?

Imagine someone is sculpting you today. What would they see?

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When I’m home from traveling I immediately try to reorient myself back to Real Life. Unpack my suitcase, open packages, sort laundry, eat a boring meal. It's deliciously banal and yet you're setting yourself right, like winding a watch.

Though here come little flashes of memory.

This meal, that phrase, one silly encounter, yet another goofy dog.

The walks, the food, the talks. 

Why do we go anywhere? Why do we do anything? 

To find new roads, new language, new ways of seeing. 

We can live that way in our own backyard, too.

We can be strangers in our own routines.

Nudge through the crowds.

Leave behind what weighs you down.

Walk longer and look closely.

Remember the layers.

Sculpt your process.

What will you find?

What will you change?

What will appear on the road stretching endlessly before you?