4/19/12

Grandfather Mountain and the Blue Ridge Parkway

Almost one month ago my mom and I climbed into my car and went towards Boone, NC. Not realizing that the App State kids were moving in, we skipped town and drove along the Blue Ridge Parkway towards Grandfather Mountain.

Along the way.

The Moses Cone Manor

Mile high pines.

They filmed part of Forrest Gump on the road to the summit.

I spend too little time with my mom, but when I do, it's short trips like this that make that time all the more memorable.

Madrid

I finished Less Than Zero on the flight over from DC. IAD to FRA. FRA to MAD.

Arriving in Frankfurt, the immediateness of my situation became increasingly apparent. I kept my iPod off, though I found distraction in another coke-dusted story of Bret Easton-Ellis. In the airport, I put down my Kindle just long enough to help translate for a frantic Chinese family. They checked their stroller at the gate and it was sent to their connecting flight instead of left out for pick up; try communicating that through charades. I now have a place to stay in Naples, should I ever need it.

It was the imminent arrival of the unknown. My imminent arrival in a foreign country. Time that I failed to recognize I needed. Time away from family and friends. Time away from the comfort of home and my bed.

Enter Madrid. My first stop.

Home for a bit.

Time for change.

As I collected my pack, I thought of the unknown that laid ahead of me. A new city. A different language. No plans, but I was finally detached. Disconnected. Liberated.

There are restrictions wherever you look.

Dream big, even if you're living small.

Though I brought almost all new music to listen to during the trip, I decided I wanted to immerse myself in the sounds and energy of the city, and I succeeded. What I accomplished by doing so, I'm still unsure of.

Despite the spontaneity of my trip, I managed to cover both classical and modern art museums, an afternoon among roses, getting caught in the rain, a football game in the Real Madrid stadium, and most importantly, the sobering perspective granted by traveling alone in a new place.

Beauty, everywhere.

Do you know where to look?

It was time for me to learn to be on my own, to let go, and to get in touch with getting lost.

As I left La Retiro, Madrid froze. A city stopped and a boy in motion. The skies shut down and the clouds opened up. As people hid under overhangs and in bars, I continued forward, letting each step remind me of where I was, and that it didn't matter where I was going.

Get caught in the rain; it's probably been far too long.

(By the way, some of you may be happy to know my jeans received a much needed rinse during that walk back.)

Diana (Mini)- Cooler Temperatures

Diana has been troublesome. I lost a roll shot over New Year's Eve to a mediocre film processing lab, and without the pockets afforded by winter coats, we travel less and less. That said, her unpredictable performance has helped me capture moments in new light (and color.)

With our air conditioner out of commission for my last days at home, I've sought solace from the D.C. heat and humidity in memories of seeking warmth in wool.

Winter.

Crystal Lake, IL

Nags Head, NC

Rodanthe, NC

Harper's Ferry, WV

Spring.

Calvert Cliffs, MD

Washington, D.C.

Tomorrow, I leave for Europe. With or without her, I'm not sure. I'll return on June 28, hopefully clear in mind and ready to handle returning to an old town and a new phase in my life.

Walnut Ave. Bloomington, IN

Shooting Sakura.

"Let's make it 5 o'clock instead of 6."

My uncle invited me to accompany him to shoot the Cherry Blossoms in early April. As we set up our cameras, more and more photographers appeared from the darkness, taking their positions between the cherry blossoms, all eyes on the Tidal Basin and the Jefferson Memorial sitting just across.

I don't know how many times I've watched the sun set in D.C.  This was the first time I watched it rise.

It grew crowded quickly and tempers flared as photographers bumped elbows.

At work.

If you're in the right spot, you can watch the sun rise at Jefferson's feet. Minute by minute, we watched the light evolve as the sun inched its way skyward.

Asian hilarity. Good luck with that model release. Oh wait...

The model's real entourage.

We capped off eight hours of shooting in proper fashion, with a good burger and a cold beer, a ritual that started on a fly fishing trip between third and fourth grade. My first trout, my first real burger, and now my first sunrise by the monuments and cherry blossoms. You never forget your first...

Charleston Chews, Brews, and Views Pt. 1

I have no need to describe my affinity for the Atlantic. I'm fond of the culture (both above and below the Mason-Dixon line), the food, the history, and the cities which define the East Coast as somewhere other than the home of New York, and more regrettably, the point-source pollution that Long Island and north Jersey relentlessly produce.

Principle: Eat local as often as possible, especially whilst travelling.
Reasoning: Support local business? Sure. Search for heritage, tradition, and integrity through local flavors, ingredients, and culture? Definitely.

Provide a domestically-produced superior (or at least competitive) product or service and I will be forever loyal; it's about heritage, tradition, and integrity. It's why I wear and prize my Aldens and Made in USA shirts by the Brethren and J. Press.

Last week I had the opportunity to spend four days in Charleston, SC. I jumped at the chance and ~550 miles later stepped out of the car and into (unexpected) southern heat. Thank you Weather Channel, you were only off by 10+ degrees. Not so funny when I come expecting to continue breaking in new denim all week and have just one other pair of (red) shorts in my bag.

Remedy Roses

Lunch: The Remedy Market on Spring- Owned by a young couple with a retriever mix named "Charles Barkley", they offer a light menu of sandwiches, salads, natural drinks, and craft beers. It's a small place, conducive to speaking with other customers and the owner. Victory's Hop Devil IPA and fresh roses kept my tuna melt with gouda company.

Dinner: Gilligan's. Uninspired, but acceptable seafood. Dinner wasn't so much a failure as an exercise in mediocrity, but we ran into some excellent advice while there. After asking a local for the dive-iest, dirtiest, most hole-in-the-wall seafood place around, he told us about a place that his family used to run out by Folly Beach.

The good news is that it's still open and doing quite well, the bad news is that his family no longer has any connections to the restaurant,  "They got a sign now, but that's only been up a few years. You know you're on your way when you hit the dirt road." 

Drinks: The Gin Joint. Apologies for being camera-less at the time, but if you're ever in Charleston, the $10 is well worth the artfully mixed cocktails they have on their menu. This brief mention really doesn't do the place justice; you'll just have to go for yourself.

Bacon and toast are the stars of this meal.

Breakfast: Halo. I must admit, while I enjoy toast, I've never been excited about it. Breakfast at Halo changed this. The multigrain loaf from the nearby Ashley Bakery produced the best toast I've ever had. Ever. Good prices and service after the breakfast cutoff time mean I'll definitely go back next time I'm in town.

Lunch/Dinner: The Crab Shack. Slow service. Free peanuts. Beware the Charlie Melt or bring Tums and Lipitor. Fortunately I don't need either, but some might.

In any town, I seek out places that locals know about and visitors try to keep secret; a true hole-in-the-wall or dive is worth its weight in gold.

To be continued...