A previous trip to Arizona didn’t unfold the way it should have. This time, I went back to experience it on my own terms. To take it back. 6 days · 2,878 Miles Up early on April 9th. This was easy, I didn't sleep well. Car rental, got a Honda Ridgeline, and back home to load the truck. I took much less this time. Less hassle, less decision paralysis, less... mess. I hit the road at 9 a.m. CST. Aside from fuel, bathroom, and snack stops, the only Kansas photo location was Blo

A lot has shifted lately. Graduation. Passing exams. Losing people. Finding new ones. Somewhere in there, I realized something uncomfortable: I wasn’t done. Not even close. I went to Arizona in January. Arizona was gorgeous. It also wasn’t enough. Not enough time. Not enough space. Not enough freedom. So, I fixed that. I threw together an itinerary, complete with stops missed before and choices I wish I'd made. I threw my shit into a bag, packed my camera, created a Spotify

Some trips teach you what to look for. Peaceful locations, unique sights, things that make your soul say, “ah yes - I know you ”. The open road, sun in your eyes, your favorite music as soundtrack. Truly looking. Sincerely seeing. Is that place an impromptu roadside stop? Pulling over, lowering your foot to the ground, camera up. Taking the shot. Other trips teach you what to avoid. Conflict, longing, flyby scenery. The last time I drove this direction, I wasn’t really navi

Symmetry & Stars Just Focus on the Step in Front of You A Lightbulb Moment An Uncooperative Wind Flowers Whisper, Even as they Fade

A Walk Through the Cemetery: Part 3 There’s a point, walking through a cemetery, where you can feel a shift. Slow, Quiet Accumulation At first, it feels structured. Intentional. Rows, pathways, markers placed strategically. Each stone whispering a clear statement: someone was here. But the longer you stay, the more that clarity starts to dissolve. Time is the Speed at Which the Past Decays Names blur together. Dates lose their weight. The individual becomes part of a pattern.

A Walk Through the Cemetery, Part 2 After we pass through the entrances, the details begin to take over. What Remains When Nobody Is Looking When seeing from a distance, cemeteries feel quiet.. orderly. Rows, symmetry, space. Up close, though, that order begins to break down. Edges soften; surfaces wear. Materials shift under years of harsh exposure. I find myself drawn less to the grave markers as objects and more to their stories, what happened to them. Human Attempt vs Tim

A Walk Through the Cemetery, Part 1 Every cemetery has a threshold. The threshold may be a door, a gate, a narrow path between stones, or even simply a feeling. This one is a driveway branching into multiple dirt roads, silent stones marking the pathways. I have visited this cemetery more than once. I enjoy the subtle variations, the differences in the way the light falls, the unrestrained changes, and the observations missed on preceding visits. It is always beautiful, conti