Standing in the space between what we know
and what we imagine.

Route 66: Documenting a great notion

Among my favorite things, as a lover of both travel and creative journeys, is to speak with people embarking on paths that they are passionate about: the type of project that’s exciting and scary and life-changing, all rolled into one.

Just posted this interview with Simon Cantlon, indie documentary filmmaker, whose "The Motels of Route 66" is in the works.

The guy fills a room with his energy and enthusiasm.

Take a look, here.

2 years ago on April 23rd, 2012 at 11:15 pm | Permalink

this is an ex-parrot… (we’ve moved!)

You want the new blog — here. Thank you.

"This parrot is no more. He has ceased to be.  He’s expired and gone to meet his maker. He’s a stiff, bereft of life, he rests in peace. If you hadn’t nailed him to his perch, he would be pushing up the daisies. He has fallen off the twig.  He’s kicked the bucket.  He has shuffled off this mortal coil, pulled down the curtain and joined the bleedin’ choir invisible. This is an ex-parrot!"

2 years ago on February 17th, 2012 at 6:10 pm | Permalink


He was four years old when his father told him that every day, all day long, the Earth spins around on its axis. Like a top, he said.

Since it wasn’t story time — he and his father were visiting the Natural History museum — he understood that he was meant to believe this extraordinary bit of information.

As his father explained it, this motion of the Earth accounted for the passage of Day and Night: Day being when the planet faced the Sun and Night when it had turned its back on that star and let the moon reflect the solar beams.

The Earth. Spinning. Just like a basketball player might set a ball spinning on the tip of his finger.

It could not be true.

“Dad, the ground isn’t moving.”

“It doesn’t feel like it’s moving,” his father said,”but it is.”

Was his body was lying to him?

Beneath his feet, the ground was perfectly still. The walls of the museum around them betrayed no subtle swaying. The visitors mooching about the exhibit hall walked upright and confident.

He looked at his father’s face, studied it closely, and finally, shrugged. He concluded that he would accept this ridiculous idea, not because it had any particular merit, but because it was the accepted way to account for Day and Night. As such, it was like any other story. And this was how he understood faith — a patently fabulous story accepted as a means of grasping the world, making it seem less alien and incomprehensible, bringing it down to human-sized understanding.

Still, faith did not sit well with him.

Not from the very start.

2 years ago on February 10th, 2012 at 4:00 pm | Permalink
Temple Mount, JerusalemPhoto by Santiago

Temple Mount, Jerusalem
Photo by Santiago

2 years ago on February 10th, 2012 at 8:00 am | Permalink

Contents May Shift in Transit

Some people are simply born to it.

They come into the world inquisitive and cheerfully malcontent and they remain so. Outwardly unremarkable, inwardly they find themselves prey to restless yearnings.

They’re the ones who provoke shrugs, head shaking, and eye rolling among their family, friends, and employers. They’re the ones who stay up all night talking to people they’ve only just met and may never see again. They’re the ones who long for the bold gesture.

In their hearts, they are Thoreau’s descendants. In spirit, they are Chatwin’s tribe.

To them, travel is not antidote to a clamorous world but an embrace of it all. In time, travel also serves them as a balm that heals wounds contracted among those they consider corpses with a pulse, those pallid souls who plod through life blinkered to everything but the narrow day ahead.

Restlessness may not be an occupation. It is certainly a calling. And its highest expression may simply be the willingness to always be beginning especially when to make an end would be the easier choice.

2 years ago on February 9th, 2012 at 4:00 pm | Permalink
Dough Re Mi on blues night.

Dough Re Mi on blues night.

5 years ago on March 15th, 2009 at 7:37 pm | Permalink