Dear Kobe

Five. Cross-up the defender, step back and survey the court. Four. Fake left, cut hard right. Three. One quick dribble to blow by the crossing defender.

Parallels shares stories from around the world, tells the untold, and shines a light on the lesser-seen.
Travel the world one story at a time.

Writing

Havana Reverie

If Hemmingway could see this place now; the whole world really. Gone are the days of sidling up to the polished wooden bar and regaling the Cuban regulars with his stories, fresh made daiquiri in hand.

The Rhythm of Rain

Raindrops tap dance on the multi-colored jungle canopy encircling my temporary home. They fall, bounce, skip and slide down the leaves, highlighting the brilliant colors of each.

Dear Kobe

Five. Cross-up the defender, step back and survey the court. Four. Fake left, cut hard right. Three. One quick dribble to blow by the crossing defender.

Two Black Bags

Two black bags sit perched on a low bench next to my bed for the night. They’ll be my only possessions for the foreseeable future.

Adios San Francisco

For those who don’t already know, I’m leaving San Francisco tomorrow. I’ve decided to take a leap into the world of fully remote working and spend part or most of my time out on the road, seeing the world.

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Distant Ramblings

Kyiv, Ukraine

Kyiv, an ancient enclave founded over 1500 years ago, give or take a century. It’s been fought over, occupied, and liberated dozens of times.

Tenerife, Spain

Standing on the shores of Southern Morocco, feet in the lolling surf, searching out past the rolling waters, an ancient traveler could never imagine the intrigues that lay just beyond the horizon.

Rome, Italy

An amalgamation of millennia of empire, war, destruction, knowledge, growth, and mythology. To describe Rome in any justified manner would fill a wood-scented library with untold volumes from floor to lofted ceiling.

Athens, Greece

Athens, the ancient heart of Greece. Home of democracy and countless contributions to culture, philosophy, and even language itself. Quite possibly, no other city may have more significance to Western history.

Santorini, Greece

Santorini, or Thera as the island is truly named, is one of the most unique and stunning landscapes you’ll ever wander across.

Chania, Greece

Chania is a port town of antiquity, bearing the scars and marvels from millennia of inhabitants and conquerors. A Turkish mosque stands waterside, flanked by a Venetian fortified wall in various phases of decay.

Armação dos Búzios

Búzios is the place you don’t speak of, that hidden oasis that you hope against all inevitability of globalization isn’t discovered by the masses.

Rio de Janeiro

Distant ramblings from a thwarted nomad. The world extends and constricts as I endeavor to navigate the erratic borders that a global pandemic has shaken from their slumber.

Positano

Positano. An Italian nesting doll of intricately stacked pastel buildings housing centuries of memories and character. A dew drop falls from a cluster of Aglianico wine grapes that lazily climb a wire rigging overhead.

London

London, a city of infinite treasures, some ill-gotten, that could take endless lifetimes to truly encapsulate. Strip back the veneer, and you’ll find the sedimentary layers of centuries of mixed, stacked, and modified culture.

Images

Street portraits 📸

Street portraits 📸

Curious II 🐒

Albert's last day in Tenerife 🚁

Albert's last day in Tenerife 🚁

Rome, Italy An amalgamation of millennia of empir

Rome, Italy

An amalgamation of millennia of empire, war, destruction, knowledge, growth, and mythology. To describe Rome in any justified manner would fill a wood-scented library with untold volumes from floor to lofted ceiling. The city is at the epicenter of so much of Western European history that it might as well be the zero-point for any such discussions.

Rome’s long and storied history, once the thing of myth and distant curiosity to a young untraveled American, has somehow become inextricably woven into the story of my own life. I’ve visited in the frigid New Years’ rain to watch fireworks rise from within the Colosseum’s spectacular frame, felt the sweltering summer heat rising in mercurial translucent waves from the Spanish Steps, marveled at the engineering magnificence of the open oculum atop the indomitable Pantheon, and wandered within the marvels of the Vatican City and Sistine Chapel. With each visit, new layers of friendships have been revealed, relationships strengthened or strained to almost breaking. The ghosts of these encounters play out before me in pantomime as I wander past cornerstones.

I'm standing at the counter of the airport cafe, early as usual, for my flight to another adventure in another land. A warm coffee sits next to my hand as I scroll through the news of the day. A link to a song scrolls by and I pause in reflection of the title, "Japanese Breakfast - Romulus." One of the two brothers of myth whose name became the moniker for this place. Tiny shards of synchronicity find me often in my travels; I wonder how much to attribute them to Baader-Meinhof phenomenon and how much might just be the universe peeking through a pinhole for a look.

I've boarded my plane and reached altitude on my way to the Canary Islands. I begin to read a story among the collection Let the Old Dreams Die by John Ajvide Lindqvist. As I'm settling in to the second paragraph I read, "Maud Pettersson called and asked if I could house-sit while she and her husband went to the Canary Islands." The pinhole widens.

Independence Square

Independence Square