When Richard Henry Dana Jr. visited San Francisco in 1859 after an absence of almost a quarter of a century, he was informed that, unbeknownst to him, he had become a man of considerable fame on the West Coast. As an adolescent, Dana was studying law at Harvard when he caught the measles, which led to a inflammatory condition that affected his eyesight and reading ability. Coming from a well-to-do family, to everyone's surprise Dana decided not to take the classical route of doing R&R in the resorts of Europe. Instead, he marched to Boston harbor and signed up as a low-ranking merchant sailor on the Pilgrim, bound for Alta California via Cape Horn and the Chilean Juan Fernandez island.
When I lay down and none can wake me. When I'm between the covers. I hear that song, transporting me to places unknown. Translating me to words unspoken. It's easier to be here, in the in-between. A blank sheet snuck in an unreadable tome. Unfound. Ever bound for the false, in love with the error, … Continue reading Boston: Monument
In a dusty corner inside my room Behind some silken cover I found a coat of arms For me to wear In a city of the ancient rites Imperial alcoves and ornate groves I came here and it's hard to bear For some of us it's tough to swallow Dealing with these diatribes Of kneeling, … Continue reading Vienna: Coat of Arms
How much fun is it to almost miss your connection in Munich? I would say it all depends on you liking your name blaring loudly on airport speakers, pronounced with that particularly German semi-military 'gusto.' But come on, it's really not my fault the smoking lounge is a mile away from the gate - that's … Continue reading Dublin: Unsinkable
I flew again from your arms, from the home we have made for ourselves. On a train with green curtains and orange windows I am moving forward with this idea: Each morning I will be a stranger, wherever I am. My life will stay strange, evidence of incoherent movements, a trail coiling inwards but never … Continue reading Lisbon: How to Escape a Train