Monday, September 27, 2010

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

tangier photos

this is my favorite photograph from my trip. we're in tangier here, possibly walking to cafe hafa, the most beautiful, sprawling coffee house looking over the mediterranean sea. it captures the spirit of the trip for me - feeling careless and adventurous, wanting to wander and roam, warm and content and thrilled all at once. i dream of traveling because of photos like this, ones that unearth memories of endless alleyways and new pleasures behind every corner, like little restaurants or souks that become the crowning jewels of how you remember a place, of the thrill of getting lost and the relief of being found, of there being light at the end of every road.

my nostalgia makes me feel at once pleased that i was there and disheartened that i am no longer.

funny how the NY Times travel section story about Tangier, the one i would scan the paper for every sunday, finally came out, exactly a month after i had left the country. funnier still is how similar their photos were to mine:

glad to know i did just fine in tangier without their guidance.

Saturday, September 18, 2010


i'm back in new york and i'm alone in my apartment and i never thought i'd say it, but here i go: i miss my family. i do. i was spoiled by not only getting to see my parents and brothers and darling nephew for 5 weeks straight every day, but i got to travel around the world to see the rest of my family - grandfathers, cousins, aunts, uncles, more nephews, whom i see so rarely for distance's sake.

it's yom kippur, the holiest day in the jewish calendar. my uncle sent over these scanned photos to my dad and i, wishing us a good fast. i wasn't quite sure why he had sent them, why this day of all days, one of repentance and suffering, garnered some dug up family photos.

it took a bit of silent, unconscious meditating to feel the link to this day and the photos of my relatives. and it hits home even harder when i'm so far away from all of the people that connect me to these roots.

the bearded man is my great-great grandfather, a michelson. my grandpa is recognizable in the second photo as the standing kid to the left. don't know who the rest of those folks are but their blood is coursing through my veins.

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Where in the World is Marina?

So you know, I haven't given up here. I've been away, figuratively and literally. At first way away on vacation for 2 weeks and for the following 5 weeks I was enmeshed in one of the most time-consuming/rewarding ventures of my life. I'm flying back home today, getting back into my New York state of mind. I have a lot of adventures to tell about and I will. Soon.