Some photos and scribbles from my trip across North America. I discovered a love of looking at mountains, reading books and taking self portraits.


A woman pushes past me with an air of indignation, who am I to stand in her way of 14 hours of boredom? 

Toronto, 9:18am.

It seems that at least 50% of science fiction writing is the invention of ridiculous names for characters.

"You might get a season without snow, but it's up there man, and it's gonna come down on you eventually" -Uber drivers with scientifically inaccurate but nonetheless poetic ideas.


SouthBeach, 5:30pm.

North Beach, 11: 19am. A man tears past in an SUV, overtaking three people, furiously shaking a tambourine.

Wynwood, 2:30pm. Campbell's cynically overused pop-art reference.

Wynwood, 3:00pm.

Los Angeles

Downtown, 1:30pm.

Silverlake, 2:15pm. "I can see you're confused, you see, we're not actually a bookstore, we're a medical marijuana dispensary that is an homage to a bookstore."

 Downtown, 2:15pm. "I will not make any more boring art." No Promises.

Silverlake, 11:00am. I receive some change, a one dollar bill is stamped: 'dissent is the highest form of patriotism.'


Joshua Tree

Joshua Tree, 2:00pm

My finger is stained green from the cheap ring and my sock is filled with blood, but I'm smiling through cracked lips as I think about you and the things we've done.

Joshua Tree, 10:01am.

America is a land of wide open spaces dotted with chain stores and restaurants and smokey the bear, who really passes the buck when it comes to the blame for forest fires.

"Today I picked a mountain in the distance, walked to it and climbed the sucker. It's something I've always wanted to do."

Joshua Tree, 3:35pm.


"You're living the sad white-boy, introvert, artist American road trip dream." -Sarah Walker.

grand canyon 445pm.jpg

I hike 14 kms down into the canyon and back with only sunflower seeds to eat. I nearly collapse from low blood sugar on the way back up.

I sleep over night at a truck stop on the Arizona border and feel an overwhelming sense of joy. In the morning I awake to a conversation about the merits of racial segregation and feel far less joyous.



It will be -19 degrees in Sequoia tomorrow, so maybe I might go somewhere else.

I think I might be breaking the law of this nation, I keep buying share size packets of m&m's with absolutely no intention of sharing them. 

I think of you when I see the moon in the day, and when the light hits a wall just so.

When travelling, we seem to seek the refuge of places that feel familiar to us, or those that we know for sure have free wifi.

"You have a porch with a shotgun spirit and a serial killer with a van aesthetic."


I stand amid peaceful silent sleeping giants.

"I STILL LOVE YOU KARLI" -Spray painted on the side of a sheer cliff face.


What love is: hope, a safe space to challenge and be challenged, a safe space to explore and be explored, honest, impure, imperfect.

What love isn't: a competition, violent, mean, defensive, religious.