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.
Some snapshots from the old town of Valletta, Malta.
I love this part of Northern California, from the Mendocino coast to Anderson Valley: a more remote, untamed version of Sonoma County. We’re now considering the area for our future tiny house location.
This weekend, we explored the Point Reyes peninsula, about thirty miles northwest of San Francisco — paddling in bioluminescent Tomales Bay, eating oysters in Marshall, and wandering in Point Reyes Station.
If art is trash, then what is street art? I’ve found that the art on the street is charged, all over the world. Not necessarily politically, though often so, but with emotion. Or hope. And despair. And sometimes, the most mundane piece of street art — that bit of color splattered on the corner in an alley — can offer an unexpected moment of light.