I’m reminded of a moment I had on a beach in Karimunjawa Archipelago, Indonesia. On that beach- away from the disgusting nature of the self-absorbed western world- was my escape towards a bluer heaven. I heard nothing but the rustling of Indonesian palm trees, the stampede of waves orchestrating as a communications network between only the sea and the sky. I took out my starter sketch book and began to draw what I saw from my perspective. The final product looked something like a mixture between a cat and a dinosaur, but I tried. I tucked my 3rd grade drawing back into my bag and closed my eyes. The wind whispered through my hair, my ears, and my fingertips- and I remained silent. Unspeakable peace.
The object of traveling is letting yourself go and allowing your atmosphere to speak to you. Only then can you fully understand the language of your surroundings. - ‘tnoely