Both reading and writing to me, are ways to record and freeze time and to make sense of experiences. I remember childhood snow days in Tennessee being linked to my Little house on the prairie book and the hard boiled egg I made and dusted with salt and took into a small hall closet with a blue blanket to cozy up and spend a few hours doing exactly as I wanted to do. 

Egg, book, blanket. Boom.

Travel to me is as exciting as doing exactly what I want in a small hall closet in Tennessee on a snow day. Stress also plays a part in travels for me. My weak language skills are tested and this is an ego crashing moment. I document my travels in photo form and sketchbook form and if I had a dollar for every sketchbook I’ve left on a bench or a plane, well…Id have a few bills. So yes, anxiety often is my copilot. But I work through it by writing it out, and I love to do this wherever I may roam.