Living a Dream

For a little while now I've been feeling a bit empty. Part of it is the overarching malaise of living in 2018 America. Part of it is being at a crossroads in life and not knowing which way to turn. Part of it is because it's been 90+ degrees outside for most of the past month. There's not really a great answer to all of it, but it's happening. But one of the things that I keep thinking about is how I think I'd like to start drawing. Or painting. Or something. I want to make visual art, but I'm completely terrified of it. What's more, I don't think I consider my own artistic pursuits to be "good" enough to actually pursue. I explored this idea a little bit on an Instagram post where I edited a photo, and it has kept me thinking further about this. With words, I don't have any issues with confidence, and that means I don't second-guess what I said. Even if I say something that pisses people off, I have confidence in the fact that I (...

I've been looking at this photo a lot lately. I put it on Instagram with the caption "sometimes you just gotta jump" because I think that's a lesson that could be taken away from it, but I admit it's also because I like to pretend I'm a photographer on Instagram and that's what a photographer might say.  I've been looking at a lot though, and I guess there could be several reasons.  Maybe I look because I think it's a cool photo of me. Maybe I look because I wonder exactly how high that jump was. Maybe I look because I remember how cold the water was.  Maybe I look because jumping off of something is freedom. Maybe I look because that moment of anticipation before hitting the cold water is the clearest moment of thought that a human can experience. Maybe I look because Oregon, and specifically Crater Lake, is beautiful. Maybe I look because I used to be more comfortable with heights than I am now, and I remember how I was mor...

When the situation calls for it, I am a mature person. I can talk comfortably about reproductive health, I can watch a movie with a sex scene and not make a joke, and I can look at nude statues and think nothing of it beyond art. Hell, my senior yearbook quote was about how maturity is just knowing when and where to be immature. I won't laugh when you fall down because you might be hurt and I absolutely do not laugh when an animal humps something because it's instinct and the animal can't help it. I believe you shouldn't laugh at something if the thing you're laughing at is helpless in the situation. But sometimes you find your limit. The National Archaeological Museum of Naples (abbreviated MANN in Italian) pushed me near my limit. See, Naples is home to brilliant and interesting historical artwork. With the nearby town of Pompeii buried under the ash of Mt. Vesuvius, tons of pristine artifacts which were rescued from Pompeii ended up in MANN. Some of these p...

And the Machine, am I right?? But seriously, if you want jokes, that's cool. I'm gonna tell you about the city of Florence real quick, and it's one of my favorite cities in Europe/the world (which really only consists of Europe and like 1/8 of the US because that's all I've seen). Florence, more-so than London, New York, Paris, or anywhere, is the city of art. Oh, you "don't like art"? There are still museums full of stuff you'd like in Florence - it's out of control. According to Tripadvisor there are 83 museums in Florence, and the majority are in an area of about 1 square mile. It's crazy. We skipped out on the Uffizi Gallery, known as one of the world's best (and home of the Birth of Venus by Botticelli), because of the long lines and because I'd been there before and was overwhelmed by the size and underwhelmed by the variety for long stretches. We opted for a trip to the Bargello Museum, which was about 5 euro and had wo...

A man named Parker Fernandez was one of my college roommates during my senior year at Ohio University. We then lived in different areas for a few years, but he would occasionally show up in Chicago and we'd have a hell of a time wandering the city. Not long after I came to Italy, Parker moved to Madrid to teach English through a much-more-official-than-mine program. In mid-November, Jenna and I visited him. This is our story. We had a 6:40 a.m. flight from an airport almost an hour outside of Milan, so we got up at 3, waited outside for an overnight bus to take us nearish the train station, then walked 2/3 of a mile to the train station, got on a shuttle bus, and arrived at the airport around 5:30. That's not a fun start. I stayed optimistic and upbeat, my bride to be was...less enthused. We were both also getting sick. Madrid is big. Like, really big. Just the airport took ages to get through, and eventually we got the train to the appointed meeting location for Parker and...