To place myself in Spain is to place myself in an understanding of my place in history.
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To stand where Renaissance transitioned to Baroque, a mosque into a synagogue into a church, coexistence into conquering…
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Just as I begin to become insecure about my inability to wrap my mind around it all, I suddenly realize that travel is like a roll of film.
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It’s not meant to be fully processed in real-time.
🎞️ All four rolls were captured on my Rollei 35. (the ULTIMATE “Stay Present” travel film camera) The two rolls of color negatives were shot on Kodak Ultramax 400 (a film that makes me forget what decade they were taken in.) processed by my friends at @fast.foto in Bloomington, MN, and self-scanned in my studio. The two B&W frames were shot on Ilford HP5 rated at 400iso and self-developed in Kodak HC-100 (Dil. b for 8min).
📍Klein Begijnhof, Leuven Belgium
“The truth is, most of us discover where we are headed when we arrive.“ - Bill Watterson (The creator of Calvin and Hobbes)
It was 9:15 and the smell of Stella Artois’ morning brew-mash was coating the entirety of the medieval city in the scent of bread and malt cereal.
We hadn’t set out with a destination in mind other than Sarah’s recommendation to place it on the other side of Leuven’s Klein Begijnhof. – A small historical architectural complex which was created to house lay religious women who lived in community without taking vows or retiring from the world.
As we came to the end of the passageway of the disorienting half-tunnel of brick that seamlessly connected walls and road, we noticed a statue peaking though the trees we hadn’t noticed before.
With a shrug and a look that said “I mean, it’s as good-a-direction as any.” We decided to make our way towards it – quickly realizing that it was much larger, much higher up, and much farther away than we’d expected.
Over thirty sweat-filled minutes later, we emerged though a tunnel that opened into the courtyard of what a sign explained was Keizersberg Abbey. The statue, Mary and the Christ-child eternally overlooking and blessing the city’s skyline.
The memory of that moment comes to mind this morning – sitting on a nearby well, catching our breath, and admiring the view. I remember realizing there was no way in knowing that this moment was waiting for us on the other side of the uphill hike we were questioning the point of, just minuets before.
Looking back on life, it’s easy to remember the pay-offs. The city-skylines, views of cathedrals blanketed in morning’s mist. It’s easy to forget the uncomfortable path that lead us there.
How often, memories of blisters are forgotten when covered with the band-aid of nostalgia.
So, in the midst of the sweaty confusion, pain, and frustration that seems to be obstructing the road we’ve all been walking together far this year, before time has the opportunity to make sense of our currently open wounds…
May your eye catch a glimmer of that which compels you to continue forward with the hope that, one day, you’ll be able to look back and discover where you were always headed. (A Benediction for The Order Of Curious Persons)
Stay Curious,
-rob
P.S. For more stories like and un-like this one, visit https://medium.com/@therobmorgan (Link In Bio)
"Travel is about the gorgeous feeling of teetering in the unknown." - Anthony Bourdain
It’s Sarah’s Birthday. We had the weekend off and thought we’d head to Belgium.
Most of our time was spent wandering the streets of Gent and Brussels; my Rollie 35 hanging from my wrist and a spare roll of Ilford HP5 in my pocket.
“…and so we spent the night, trading good dollars for rough quarters.”
“I had a boat to catch in Cape Town. What happened on the way, who I met and all of that, was incidental. I had not quite realized, the interruptions WERE the journey.” - Excerpt from “Jupiter’s Travel’s” by Ted Simon
I can’t think of a better way to celebrate my 38th birthday than playing a show with Caitlyn Smith and the band, in the Ozarks, opening for Dirks Bentley. The show was sublime, the sound-check a shit show.
I’m reminded of how I used to view the set as what it meant to be a musician. I now know… all of it is all of it.
We’re playing just a few miles from my grandparents’ home where I spent my summers growing up and (since all birthdays turn me into a wandering existentialist) I can’t help thinking life might be the same way.
Now that I think of it… sure, I had a blast playing, but it was the conversations in the green-room and in the van that I won’t quickly forget.
“I cannot rest from travel: I will drink Life to the lees: All times I have enjoy'd Greatly, have suffer'd greatly, both with those That loved me, and alone, on shore and when Thro' scudding drifts the rainy Hyades Vext the dim sea[.] In “
- Ulysses
Flying to another country, only to play one night, is a whirlwind. Often, one’s glimpse of a city is only that which can be seen through a hotel window. So, we decided to stick around for a couple of extra nights as a band on this trip to Mexico: family diners, a desert show, and a short dance in the Pacific.
