India (December, 2016) – Often there are places close to home that hold great folkloric tales. In this particular case, "mythical" monster snakes and tangled roots that could swallow you up! It's also the community pond: used for bathing, for laundry, it's the spot for gossip, for horseplay. It's a gathering space holding epochs of generational stories, many including creatures circulating in the depths of the dark waters.

USA (September, 2016) – We spent a good part of the day wandering along the long stretch of the High-Line, amused by the artisan market and art installations, of the city view and of course people watching. Thinking back, that short sejour in New York holds so much more significance than I might have imagined almost a decade later.

France (March, 2022) – We took a walk along an old train passage, for a little meander in nature. The garden passage is still inclusive of a patch of railroad track and a single train car; now used as an educational centre. While rather overgrown with native plant species, the passage also hosts a few surprises. I was drawn to the shape of l'hôtel à insectes; the outer form reminded me of the archways of central and south Asia. While the inner sanctum seemed like a highly structured, yet organic architectural paradise for its mini guests. It provided fodder for the imagination. 

India (December, 2016) – I recognize the concept of street festivals happening outside one's habitation. However neighbourhood mela's in Kolkata take on a new meaning of crowded, the noise almost hypnotic, but also tantalizing and enchanting. It felt almost overnight the tranquil family abode and surrounding neighbourhood turned into a circus performance. The small congested laneways lined on both sides with vendors hawking anything you could possibly need. Just as fast as the fair appeared, it vanished without much trace, leaving behind the same tranquil space of the very nostalgic past.

Canada (February, 2021) – It had been a long stretch of isolation, leading to wild ideas. It was far beyond subzero; the lake frozen – glacial in appearance with stretches of unappealing ridged ice. The girls and I met up for a dog walk along the beachfront. I remember a joyful day, full of laughter, cackles and grins resulting in a few frozen fingers. It wasn't until I started to defrost that I could appreciate the scenery in its glory.

Uzbekistan (November, 2019) – As we walked past the first of several doorways it was evident that restoration was underway. Wandering through the side entrance of the 16th century complex, we discovered the secluded women's section. Divided from the rest of the space with hand carved wooden screens, reminiscent to those found in India and back at the homestead. It was a nod to the familiar with the added light cast through the etched window panels. 

Canada (June, 2021) – I vaguely remember feeling better about the change of seasons, the change of light, the lifting of restrictions. The neighbourhood got a fresh coat of paint and a few colourful murals to brighten the covid haze. For a brief moment; the light was perfect and my mood inspired, pondering the next great thing to come my way.

Canada (February, 2024) – I went back for a second whirlwind tour of Haring's (often explicit) 80's pop art exhibition. Perhaps based on the location of my childhood domicile and the eclectic entourage that visited, I am familiar with a particular era of Haring's iconography. I found myself lost both times watching old videos of the artist in action... literally painting himself into a corner. For me the retrospective connects to a particularly difficult time; a lingering epidemic with an overwhelming sense of prejudice based on fear of the unknown. 

India (December, 2016) – We drove the scenic route from Gangtok to the Temi Tea Estate, stopping several times along the way. Each time admiring the varying panoramas of the Kanchenjunga, the tea garden estate was no different. We had a spot of tea and a small snack while gazing out at the gardens with the added Himalayas as the surreal backdrop. 

Belgium (May, 2015) – The intended goal was a short road trip to Bruges with the matriarch and then back to the ancestral homestead for one last hurrah. Upon our return we stopped in Ghent to spin around for the afternoon marvelling at the architecture. Stadshal is a stand alone canopy which while being an open air structure, still has an overwhelming cathedral feel to it. The interior Afrormosia wood panelling and heavy metal beams, a striking contrast to the architectural styles surrounding the city pavilion. 

Iceland (2010) – My flight arrived in Keflavik just as the sky was rising from its summer slumber. In a matter of hours, I was wading in the Blue Lagoon shaking off the mundane stress of life. I spent the day in Iceland, soaking myself in the intense hues of milky blue-turquoise geothermal waters, surrounded by the remnants of ancient lava flows. It was quite the surreal experience for someone living in a concrete jungle. 

Madagascar (March, 2010) – I was definitely not prepared for the odyssey ahead, adventuring in what the locals called ‘zebu 4x4’. We arrived in the middle of nowhere; to find a rather medieval looking wooden cart and two huge zebu being harnessed and hitched to what turned out to be our transportation. We were hauled; tossed and shaken about through marshes and swamps filled with water lilies, under tamarind trees and eventually through rice paddies. The mise-en-scène was rather glorius.

France (May, 2015) – We took the train into the city for the essential excursion into history and for some gourmandise. Somewhere between sampling chocolate and venturing for gelato, dashing our way through point zero and finding distractions in the barrage of street art, I found a moment of reflection. It's the novelty of doing everything and nothing at the same time. It's always a sensory experience when day-tripping with the tribe, though perhaps groovy isn't the correct term.

Canada (December, 2023) – It felt very apocalyptic as the fog overtook the car for long stretches of road. The four-year-old remarkably repeated and multiplied our discourse that the world was coming to an end, as everything beyond a couple metres simply disappeared from sight. To lighten the mood, we debated flat earth theories and zombies between humming the tunes melodically playing in the background. Our lofty goal of catching the northern lights was indeed a failed family mission, but what we missed out on with climacteric skies was replaced instead living in the moments of pure wonder and joy.

Canada (December, 2023) – We skirted around Bridal Veil Falls; along the winding path of fairy houses, passing several bronze sculptures and patches of dangling icicles without the covering of snow. Mother nature has certainly made her mark, as our expectations of snow-covered indigenous territories failed to appear. We arrived in Manitoulin expecting inclement weather and perhaps an atmosphere of winter wonderland. Instead the last day of the year brought with it a mix of emotions, lost in thoughts and taking in new memories while adventuring into the woods.