i have arrived

Car-window landscapes raced by in a blur of transcendent splendor, the days passed delirious, spellbound by constant motion.

And tonight, as the fog spins in like blue raspberry cotton candy, I look out my window and realize I have arrived; at home in a new city, in a world still full of wonder.

adventuring

(Hikers pause at Glacier Point. Ektacolor photograph by Ansel Adams, c. 1959)

"As a young person I had no clear perception of my future–I only knew that my professional career depended on my energy, self-criticism, discipline, and a permanent desire to learn."

–Josef Müller-Brockmann

Summer has arrived. Let the adventuring and learning begin! There is much discovery on the horizon.

at the seaside

A recent afternoon was spent in the rare book room at Powell's City of Books in Portland, OR. There were many treasures to be found, including this children's classic from 1932––Katy Kruse at the Seaside, by Eleanor Farjean. I am quite enamored by these peculiar little illustrations. Are they hand-colored photographs of dolls? I couldn't find much information after some internet sleuthing––perhaps further proof of this title's rarity.

the city of roses

The weekend was spent away, breathing in the fresh air and musty books of the fine city of Portland. Now I am back, invigorated by polka dot tiles, ginkgo trees, and dusky brick-lane walks with one of the best.

delicious dishes

My recent travels north brought me to a lovely roadside flea market, wherein the dishes looked good enough to eat. I bought this souvenir tray–– 

an ode to the dandelions.

north

Nurturing fantasies of escape, I headed north this weekend to a magical place they call Git-che-O-ni-ga-ming, or Grand Portage, meaning "a great carrying place," in Ojibwe and French. It is the home of the breathtaking High Falls, Minnesota's tallest waterfall! Sunsets over Superior were followed by a night-walk filled with cherished moments of quiet, as we inhaled the breezes void of complication, counted the ripples off skipping stones, and I marveled at the capacity of shiny shoreline pebbles––a beauty majestically void of manufacture. 

it's autumn in stockholm

Because I cannot afford the real Stockholm, I awoke this morning and embarked on a pilgrimage of sorts, to the lovely little town of Stockholm, Wisconsin, population 97. The fresh fresh air blew through my hair as I drove down winding roads, and the vibrant hues of mid-autumn were out in all their glory...
There were racks of blue bikes to ride, but considering the town's size, I chose to meander on foot.
The storefronts were garnished with hand-painted signs, and everything was covered in lady bugs (or asian beetles...apparently they are considered as pests). I especially liked this piece of pie, because it looks like a face who has just lost its cherry nose.

I happened upon a cozy cottage filled with old-world delights and cotton candy floors, wherein I purchased this beautiful antique tin for tea.
I also met my fairy grandfather, who sold me squashes from the back of his truck and let me wear his hat for a time.
Stockholm was discovered by a certain Eric Peterson back in 1851. It was settled by Swedish immigrants. Hence the name. There was even an Ingebretsens! 
Goodbye Stockholm! The drive home was filled with ideas and introspections, and some fairly unfortunate roadkill. Poor little possum, you had so much life ahead of you.