The Bowl That Holds Everything

Painted black. Hollowed from a Mexican fruit shell. Travelled oceans. Then settled quietly into temple life, as if it had always been there. Accumulating wisdom through the ages when all I thought it collected was coins.

This Moment That Is Slipping Away

The present is the only gift you can give yourself without a booking confirmation. But first, you have to be in it.
Solitary bird on a weathered post by San Francisco Bay with fog. A quiet checklist in sight.

Not a Travelogue. A Checklist.