We all know travel changes you. It makes you better and reminds you of all the things you want to do with your life and for yourself. You walk the streets of a new city and take in all the people and how their every day culture is a little different than yours (so much different?). You are able to put into perspective what really matters (yes, wifi and hot water always matters, but that's neither here nor there). Perhaps you figure out what you think does matter. I've been traveling a lot this year, especially to Seattle and its quickly becoming very special to me. I'm usually there alone, wandering around exploring, sipping coffee (God bless coffee), stopping for a glass of wine (God bless wine) and of course, shooting. It's almost as if the city is my friend I go visit every month. I sit at coffee shops and watch families go by with strollers and couples kiss across the street. I often visit the beach, which is always so crazy to me because there the beach is made of rocks, rather than sand like LA. People bonfire all day long there and I can hear music in the distance. There are sail boats in the ocean and I wonder if they're having as lovely a day as I am. Are they thinking the same thing about me? I sip more coffee and think about home and write down all the new things I want to accomplish (the list keeps getting bigger...). I grab dinner at some adorable quaint restaurant as I'm waited on by the sweetest person alive. So typical in Seattle - adorable restaurants and nice people. Then I meet my clients as the sun sets. We laugh and get to know each other better. I ask them if they're willing to run across train tracks and climb up to the freeway pass so I can get the shot and they say yes without hesitation. They want to get wild with me and play and have an adventure and that's when I know they're my people.
We say goodbye and hug four times (because once just isn't enough. Am I right?!) and I head back to my hotel, exhausted and happy.
The next morning I head to the airport a bit nostalgic, but inspired from my weekend. I think about how being an artist can be challenging, even lonely sometimes, but when I get home and face plant on my bed fulfilled with new images, new faces and new goals, I just want to eat a bowl of ice cream in my underwear and say...life is good.
And then I do.