Where my heart has been

The average human heart beats 72 time in a minute... 100,000 times a day... 2.5 Billion times a year.

That's the average heart.

Somewhere between the folds of your life there are more beats, the faster ones leave imprints on pages, and they'll make up the story of who you were and what you did. From your start till your finish, every beat of the 72 is in process of your story. 

Some hearts will use their 72 beats to love.

To be amazed by what other hearts have created.

To wonder at how some hearts are living,

or when new hearts have started. 

1400, 000 beats in Germany.

 I know what my heart has been using them for. 

A bloom

I shut my eyes and try take in everything at once, a string of red glowing above a couple moving too slow to be dancing, too close to decipher one body from the other, guitars and heat, and something romantic fills my lungs.
...Spain.

I am likely to leave here and forget the 39 degrees making my skin feel a little too relaxed, a little too brave. I'll forget the afternoon drenched cathedrals, the stretched out palms, the freckles will fade and the evidence of self inflicted sun loving will all be left to a young memory of an escape...

But there is no amount of time that could make my mind forget the way this piece of earth takes me so far from the world... A careless pleasure my skin absorbs into a trinket box, something to be treasured and someday to be opened again more beautiful then it even seems now.

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For the young

Traveling has been the reminder of why being young is so beautiful. Legs fresh enough to carry you anywhere, a heart brave enough to test many idealistic adventures, a metabolism forgiving enough to let you do it all over again and a seemingly endless stretch of time laid out before you waiting to be filled with your story. Amsterdam's streets embedded with exactly that, a chance to be young, a freedom to fill a little chapter of adventure that no matter what age you are, glowing evening lamps, chiming bicycle bells and clumsy stone river bridges all seem to make you believe in.

While you're here the only requirement is to taste, smell, love and above all, when the sun is out, laze.

Arrival Amsterdam

Amsterdam, a welcoming rest point after 3 flights, 12 cups of coffee and 2 books.

In a city like this, cat-like reflexes are an essential part of avoiding being hit by a Tram, Bus, Scooter or more commonly, a bicycle. Parks painted in crisp green, heavy drooping purple leaved trees wallow over streams. Outside our apartment shy daisies bask in the morning sun, little faces welcoming people into the pub beneath the building.

Our apartment is perched over a wood framed pub, a skinny stairway curls up into the most beautiful place in Amsterdam (in my very biased opinion). Enough buttery sunlight pouring through the wide windows to keep any photographer very content!

At night everything feels young here, students debate science and philosophy, while lovers cling to each other trying to navigate the cobble streets. Amsterdam is a little bit of magic.

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