I have been living in southern California for a little while now. A long enough time to know that it does not rain and that everyone is strangely proud of their residency. I have seen more tattoos, t-shirts, purses, and bumper stickers selling the idea that Los Angeles is the most incredible place in the world despite the fact that by living here you are choosing to live in the space between the smog and traffic flank to flank.
My traveling experience had been, prior to my new lifestyle of gravel and pavement, limited and summed up by the words: summer vacation to Canada. I do not mean to hinder the ghost of my spirit by saying that this was not sensory by any means, but rather I mean to confess the earnest and most fervent feelings of nothingness that caused me to long for something bigger than what I had previously known. So I moved my heart into the mountains of New Paltz.
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| Houses and people of New Paltz |
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| Lake Minnewaska |
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| Mountains of New Paltz |
And then into the pavement of New York City. Well, Brooklyn.
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| Nicholas Kliest |
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| From Ashley Pigg |
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| From Demi Chen |
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| From Siobhan Hoye |
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