France III.

Now, that I’m back in America, I think of my relationship with this country not just as a person but culturally. As a Native person, I think of how my people have inhabited this land for thousands of years and my connection to the land.

However, presently, as a country/nation/culture, 80% of the time, I don’t connect a lot to American culture. I don’t watch sports, I don’t watch popular TV shows and I don’t listen to most mainstream American music (top 40?). I guess that’s just the curmudgeon in me, France is a bit of a curmudgeon too, I think that’s why I liked the country so much. Well, a curmudgeon with a romantic side, haha. When I think of America and if it were a person, I don’t know if I would want to be friends with that person. Mainly, this is just the weird cynical, traveller side of me. But for the most part when I travel, the truth seeking artist in me finds a balance and a greater knowledge and understanding of the world and the people that inhabit this earth. Traveling is good at ringing the bitterness out of me because at times living in America, the way our economy and society is structured (individualism and capitalism rule all) , there are times that disconnection is our only way to survive, and that’s just not living.

That’s why I need to travel, to live.

What does traveling give me? A new sense of perspective and a realization of all things that are beautiful and pure. It also gives me hope especially in moments of burnout. It’s hope for those days when I feel the undercurrent of life’s bullshit problems(shitty men, lack of sleep, not exercising enough, etc.) pulling me under until I feel like I cannot breath. Traveling pulls me up out of the water, shakes me dry, tells me to look at the beauty around me. In these moments I know not to take it for granted because I may or may not come back, with that, I take in all that I can.

♥Edith Piaf- Non je ne regrette rien ♥


At da Base
On top of the Eiffel Tower


Selfie at the top with Shima


Centre Georges Pompidou


The Violinist at the Window by Matisse (My favorite painting in the Pompidou)
Jackson Pollock


Fall leaves


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