On the Road

go anywhere, meet everyone

Get to know the world around you

Faces of Nicaragua | Part Two

GO, DO

The eye is the sensory organ responsible for capturing imagery, its receptors allow us to see all that is around us capturing movement as it happens continuously - never tiring of its purpose. 

Feast your eyes on the many colors of Nicaragua and be moved to see for yourself.

Faces of Nicaragua | Part One

GO, SEE

It is not enough to see the end goal, the dream, or the destination adorned in ones mind - one has to work to ensure one reaches it, it's easier said than done - I know. When you are someone who loves people, traveling to serve is natural and fulfilling, every destination leaving you hungry for more. The exhilaration of meeting people that you have never seen before is exciting beyond measure. 

These images are frozen fragments of an unimaginably captivating experience. To see children smile back at you and transmit so many emotions as they did is a feeling one's soul never forgets. The look in their glistening eyes is an image one's mind never forgets. Amid poverty, political totalitarianism, and -in some cases - unsanitary conditions, the smiles on the faces and their over all joy and tenderness left me completely enamored with Nicaragua. 

Instantly one is fulfilled - this is what love is.

From Russia, With Love

Cinematographer, Director, Photographer, and Filmmaker that is Anice Jee - whose hair was so stunning a double-take was simply not enough.

Memorial

Growing up in an urban neighborhood in the 80's and 90's meant you often saw shoes that hung off of telephone lines - sometimes one pair of shoes, sometimes a few. The just hung there, they swung in the breeze, got drenched in the rain, and slowly they became weathered by time. Often times one wouldn't notice when a pair came down, or when a new pair was added to the line - they just dangled, hovering over the traffic and everyday lives below.

I was told once that the shoes were there as memorials for those who had worn them, so the neighborhood wouldn't forget.

Slowly they went disappearing, as time went on. Cut down and tossed somewhere. They are the faded stamp of neighborhood culture, trying not to fade completely as the rest of the neighborhood shape-shifts below. 

Here is my ode to the memorials I knew, they symbolize loyalty to those that have gone for all to see - till they, themselves are gone. 

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