Sunset on Crater Lake
The coolness of the night makes itself known across your cheek
deep indigo bleeds towards the horizon
slowly revealing the secrets of the universe.
The nocturnal observe the transition and quietly stir to life.
The Luberon had gifted us a day of wandering—black olive tapenade from Gordes, rust-colored dust clinging to our shoes in Roussillon, and a bottle of rosé chilled just enough to temper the heat of the sun.
This is Chelsea at Christmas: a space where history whispers from stoic brownstones, where light spills from cafes and bars, and where fireplaces still glow with memory.
Pasta alla Zazonna encapsulates Rome’s essence: unabashed beauty intertwined with grit and vitality.
To travel is to surrender to change—to gather the world in small, unassuming pieces, and find, in their quiet utility, a map of who we have become, because it is impossible to travel and remain unchanged.