I just came back from a trip to Korea with Victoria and I think I finally get traveling. I have always enjoyed having traveled more than actually traveling, and I have no doubt things would be the same. It’s the denouement, you see—knowing you’ve attained and overcome, with no further action required except to take stock. I love taking stock.

I got a new camera too, and the best part of taking pictures has never been the taking pictures part, but the afterward, when you’ve just finished importing from the SD card and you open the folder to a sea of thumbnails loading in a cascade, literally developing as you scroll down.

Things turned out differently. I remember well the first night when we finally got to the hotel and it was midnight and hungry and Seoul and we trekked out. Walking through those short, amber alleys, I felt then as present and there as I ever had. This came up again and again over the week. Then it was over. I landed at SFO thinking it was unfair. This is bullshit! Why can’t I keep going?