Another volume of recommended reading from across WordPress.com.
I like what Om Malik says about confusing the photos on our smartphone as memories. I’m not saying that the images we take on our phones don’t matter, but I don’t think that having so many, tucked away in our pocket, makes us any richer.
While there is so much more to Malta than I saw — resort towns, walled cities, grand cathedrals, lots and lots of churches — I was especially drawn to Valletta’s most accessible and visible bits: narrow, sloping streets, bright blue and green doors, old letterboxes, and red British pillar boxes throughout the old town.
And so, remind me again, please: why did we move out of our comfy San Francisco loft, give away our shit and move in with my parents, and decide to build a tiny house? Why have we introduced these complications — this avalanche of minutiae — into our lives?
I’m reminded of all of this as I wander the streets of Valletta: crossing paths with strangers, feeling the city evaporate before me, taking pictures to have evidence that I was here, that these fleeting moments existed.
The street colors of Vittoriosa, an old fortified city in Malta.