5:57 AM// Steamboat Natchez

Letters

Sometimes I wish I could take what I’m seeing– the exact curvature of the sky, the faint rippling of the water, the line of light casting shards and shadows– and be able to record it.

Not with a camera or binoculars or a video– but real time.

Exactly through my eyes.

Through the squinting of my pupils.

There are certain moments where I find myself pausing and thinking to myself, “Wow. Wouldn’t it be great if I could remember this moment, right now, for the rest of my life?”

Watching the sun rise over the Mississippi was one of those times.

8 AM EST//Top of the Rocky Steps

Letters

Friday, 8 pm EST

Text to my “little” brother John: “SO proud of you and have SO much fun!!! Sending you some Jazz Fest ~vibesfrom NOLA.”

Truthfully though:

I am not at Jazz Fest. 

I am not in New Orleans.

I woke up, at 4 am Friday morning, and hopped on a flight to Philly.

And sent the text to my brother from a friend’s sofa in North Philly.