First steps in Rome — still jet-lagged, already in awe.
I have never really known what I wanted to be when I “grew up.” I tried a lot of things trying to get there. I joined the military. I became a firefighter. An EMT. A public servant—because of my deep care for people, for the human race. I loved the work I did. I loved what I learned in that life. But I always knew it wasn’t the end goal.
I knew I wanted to travel and see the world—I just didn’t know what that looked like. I didn’t know how to label it. What do I tell people I am? Do I care? Should I care if I don’t?
Some of those questions probably don’t matter all that much. But they kept me in a quiet, constant state of anxiety for years.
Launch Day
The night before the flight, Jess and I lay awake until a couple short hours before we had to be up again. Luckily, we had three planes ahead of us to sleep on.
The airport was easy and uneventful…with two exceptions—a forgotten water bottle and Jess’s Sony A6700 camera at TSA.
Rome, Somehow Real
Jet Lag, Fountains, and Food
The Pivot Toward Sicily
The First Exhale
Somewhere between exhaustion and awe.
— Brooks
Field Notes
Infrequent letters accompanying new essays and photo work.