KIRSTEN ALANA
kirsten [at] kirstenalana [dot] com
Recent Projects: Expedia's correspondent at Sundance Film Festival. Guest Photographer for HostelWorld in London. Director of Photography for ProjectExplorer.org.
I am:
- a social media consultant to small businesses, individuals and brands
- a photographer and Mobile Photography artist
- a travel diarist and freelance writer
- a teacher, lecturer and public speaker
- a world traveler
- and volunteer, always in search of causes to support
I have been:
- a radio DJ, television news anchor and brand representative on TV & radio
- an executive assistant
- an event planner
Thank you Jordan Cortese for the image of me in NYC.
linked!- iPhoneography
- 140 characters
- Aviators and a Camera
- Tripit
- My Tumblr Blog
- My Foursquare
- photo collection
- LET'S TALK!
-
Info
- Director of Photography at ProjectExplorer.orgPhotography | Greater New York City Area, USSummaryFreelance photographer and writer, currently contributing on a regular basis to several travel sites and authoring my own blog. Former executive assistant with a decade of office management and event planning experience. Also spent four years in college administration and PR. Five years on camera as news anchor and on-air radio personality.Experience
- Mar 2012 - PresentDirector of Photography / ProjectExplorer.org
- 2006 - PresentOwner/Photographer / Kirsten Alana Photography
- Jan 2004 - PresentIndependent Blogger and Writer / Self - employed
EducationAdditional Information-
Websites:
-
Honors:Award Winning Photographer
-
Interests:travel, photography, writing, executive assisting, event planning
-
Photos
-
Tweets
- I donate one tweet a day to help children recover from trauma. You can too! http://t.co/8Xo3sjgU #DT @operationSAFE
- Same! And Oct is so far away. RT @FSMauritius: @KirstenAlana Can't wait to see the finished @projectexplorer documentary!
-
Posts
- May 06, 12
My life has been marked by a lot of fighting. I have felt and seen enough of nasty words and fists and bruises; enough to mold me into a person who is now, rather a pacifist. In words and actions, I dislike confrontation. Even when others try to pick a fight with me, I tend to turn the other cheek. The psychology of all that is another post for another day and isn’t this a travel blog…
Thanks to the Rome itinerary put in place by HouseTrip and Viator, I was forced to spend a day wielding a sword. Like a gladiator. Absolutely, positively the last thing I would normally want to do.We began by learning all about the history and sport of fighting in Roman times. Much of it went in one ear and out the other. Like I said, violence isn’t really my cup of tea. Though I like history, the museum portion of the school interested me more as a photographer than a fact gatherer.This did stick with me: while gladiators could earn their freedom, many chose to remain in the ring after their escape was earned.
That situation sounded eerily similar to what so many people around the world do when they long for an escape from a life they dislike, yet they do not choose to change their lives even when they have the ability to do so. I was once that person.
My blogging friends really had a good laugh at my expense that day. Though I was far from the only one who had a moment or two. When our instructor informed us that scabbards were called vaginas in Roman times…we laughed so hard we were reprimanded and the instructor lost his cool for a few minutes until we could all recover. Admittedly, I did have the er, hardest, time with that one. Then, Dave was informed that he handles a sword really well. More laughter. Following that, the rest of the afternoon flew by in a haze of enjoyable sport because our guards were down and our moods were lightened. We may have fought each other with wooden swords but we grew closer united in the sheer hilarity of being forced to wear utterly unflattering costumes in an Italian theme park dedicated to killing.It was, unique.There is nothing I did in Italy that entertained me more than gladiator school, in the end. Perhaps I should trade journaling for sword fighting, as a means of dealing with turmoil, more often.If you’re looking for the ideal mix of learning, history and fun: please book yourself a visit to Gladiator School with Viator. Even if violence is not your preferred piece of cake, you might find yourself pleasantly surprised just as I was.
HouseTrip rents apartments in Rome starting at just ₤23/night and they were kind enough to provide me this experience during my “live like a local” sojourn in Italy. Opinions in this post are my own.
While I have your attention: Learn more about my work this May with ProjectExplorer.org in Mauritius or donate to support the incredible things being done around the world through travel, video and cultural education! - May 04, 12
When I was in college, my dream was to study abroad for a semester in Florence. My mother is a classically trained artist who I’ve always called the “female Michelangelo.” It seemed fitting to be in the place in Italy where art is such a prominent element. I even began the entry process for the program and planned my life around that semester. Yet things, as they often do, got in the way and I didn’t end up in Italy as an impressionable girl in her early twenties.
Instead, I ended up a decade later at 31 in an apartment in Trastevere not knowing what to expect and completely free of pre-conceived notions, eager for adventure. Still, slightly disappointed my first experience in Italy wasn’t going to take place in Florence.
So I think Rome heard the little sigh that escaped my psyche and planned accordingly, a grand seduction that I never saw coming.
I don’t know if it was the gelato…the picture-waiting-to-be-taken in every single alleyway…the romantic way the city sparkled at night…the desserts…the Italian man who was happy to have me as passenger on the back of his Vespa…the WINE…the frescoes…the ADORABLE tiny cars…the graffiti (that I highly anticipate discovering in every city I visit)…or, the good friends I made during the adventure who I’m looking forward to seeing again. Whatever it was, I never saw it coming. I forgot about Florence and was all too happy to find myself in love elsewhere! I hope you get the chance to visit Rome soon because I think you’d find it a rather pleasant seduction.
My sojourn in Rome was made possible by HouseTrip who provided our apartments in Rome and the experience of living like a local. However, opinions in this article are my own. **Thanks to Deb of ThePlanetD for the image of me on a Vespa! And why don’t I have a photo with you two from the trip??**
While I have your attention: Learn more about my work this May with ProjectExplorer.org in Mauritius or donate to support the incredible things being done around the world through travel, video and cultural education! - May 02, 12
I always say that one of the best ways to get to know a country, is through its food. Lucky for me, HouseTrip took that into account when planning our “live like a local” experience in Rome. Enlisting the help of Context Travel, they planned for us to shop and cook like Italians in Rome would, as well as experience Cucina Povera.
We began a day of gluttony by meeting our first Context guide Eleonora, at La Fiorentina for coffee and Italian pastries. A better start to a morning in Italy may not be possible.Tearing ourselves away we crossed the street to Trionfale Market and shopped till our feet almost fell off. Eleonora schooled us on how to determine fresh artichoke from overly ripe artichoke, she explained what real Italian mozzarella does when you cut it open and she inspired us to see the beauty in even the smallest of details in the market. For me, she gave fresh produce and ingredients a lure they had never before possessed. Whereas before I thought eating was my favorite thing, I began to see how shopping for and preparing for a meal could have their own, albeit separate, appeal.In our apartment overlooking the Colosseo, Eleonora prepared a lunch of asparagus with egg, spaghetti with pepper and cheese, cold artichoke salad with cheese and lemon, strawberries, salted flat bread, and homemade gelato. The local white wine she chose to pair the lunch with simply added to the happy delirium we were already floating in. I was nearly speechless when the artichoke tasted more like fresh apple than the vegetable I had previously had no desire to consume unless deep fried. What a meal it was!The smiles on the faces of my fellow bloggers Angie and Heather (seen here posing with Eleonora) definitely represent how we all felt: sated and happy!However, eating never stops in Italy so after a small break we began again. The glow of evening settled on Rome and this time, we joined our Context guide Gina just off the piazza by The Pantheon for a dinner at aptly named: Armando al Pantheon. The restaurant has changed little since it opened in the ’60s and it was that quirkiness of character that I most appreciated during the night. Despite a wealth of Lonely Planet, Zagat and Trip Advisor stickers on the door, Armando did not strike me as a place made for anyone else but friends of the owner. Its dining room seems that like of a friend, the kitchen a welcome home-away-from-home.Cucina Povera can be described as simple fare prepared only with ingredients readily available and currently in season. Our gluttonous menu: prosciutto crudo, spaghetti with bacon and cheese, pasta with tomato sauce and bacon, pan-grilled veal with prosciutto and sage paired with steamed artichoke, grilled lamb with garlic and chicory, berry and lemon tiramisu, espresso. It turns out that fresh or deep friend artichoke is the only preparation which I find palatable but picky eater that I am I still enjoyed the artistry in every course.Only the lure of gelato and romantic Rome at night, sparkling in a light rain, was able to tear us away and get us on our feet again. There isn’t a day in my recent memory when I have eaten more or enjoyed the experience as much. If this is what it is to be Italian, I think I could manage.
Our gluttonous day of experiencing Italy was provided by Context Travel who are happy to take you on a food tour of Rome anytime and by HouseTrip who would love to help you rent apartments in Rome. Opinions in this piece remain solely my own.While I have your attention: Learn more about my work this May with ProjectExplorer.org in Mauritius or donate to support the incredible things being done around the world through travel, video and cultural education! - Apr 27, 12
It is funny that my journey to Rome involved a lot of serious introspection because my first activity in Italy was not on any level indicative of the deep thoughts I was having during my plane ride. In fact, my first order of business in Rome was quite possibly the best fulfillment of a girlhood dream and a wild cliché, EVER.
I hardly had enough time to make it into the city, settle into my apartment in Trastevere, meet my roommate Heather and unpack a little; before we were picked up by two vintage Vespas and two handsome Italian men for a sunset ride through Rome to meet our other blogger colleagues near the Piazza Venezia. It’s a wonder I didn’t faint and fall off the Vespa on the way. Clinging to my handsome Italian driver and grinning as the setting sun glinted off white, stone buildings I felt as if I had died and gone to heaven. I was Audrey in Roman Holiday. I was any of the heroines in any of the Fellini movies. I was incredulous that the trajectory of my life had put me on that Vespa. How had I ever had a sad thought in my head? It seemed ridiculous as the wind whipped through my hair and the smell of flowering vines assaulted my senses while city lights illuminated ruins that pre-date the entire country I was born in.
For hours, our little Vespa biker gang toured the great landmarks of Rome. Lit up at night, they took on a romantic air that can only be experienced to be understood. Rome at night on a Vespa may not be Paris in the rain with a lover, yet it may be even better. Or, just different. Either way, the experience I had that night will forever be on my “must experience while in Rome” list. For female travelers particularly. However, over wine at the end of our excursion, all involved [even the men] agreed that seeing Rome from the back of a vintage Vespa was indeed the way to begin any trip in Italy.
My sojourn in Rome was provided by Housetrip and they are happy to help you rent apartments in Rome enabling you to live like a local while in Italy as I did, however, as always the glowing review of this experience is my own and not in any way prompted by anything except my own swoony heart.
While I have your attention: Learn more about my work this May with ProjectExplorer.org in Mauritius or donate to support the incredible things being done around the world through travel, video and cultural education! - Apr 18, 12
During my Alitalia flight to Rome, at around 37,000 feet when Geneva was out the window to my left, I was trying to read the on-board magazine and a phrase caught my attention, “someday this pain will be useful to you.” Perhaps it stuck out from the rest of the words on that page because it was the only portion written in English. Perhaps, I was destined to find it.I’ve written about my journey toward and in travel before. While I talk to or hear from people every day who say they are jealous of my job and of the current life I lead, it’s not without pain. I simply avoid sharing all of it in favor of instead trying to inspire people about how great life can be when travel is a part of it. It seems a more productive way to live.
However, just because I do not talk about all the pain present in my life all the time, does not mean it is not there. I began my career in travel because of a rather bitter end to a failed marriage and a divorce that has left a gaping scar in my beliefs about love and relationships. That alone is something which cannot merely be cured with new countries, first class upgrades and decadent meals in foreign cities. Never mind that my travel is usually far more budget oriented than luxury-themed anyway, it’s beside the point. The freelance lifestyle that I lead in an industry which is largely in transition and still growing, is always a precarious one and that brings its own challenges and heartaches of unpredictability as well. A complete change of profession and direction simply doesn’t happen without pitfalls. And I am always missing someone’s birthday or bachelorette party to the point that I’m rather rubbish as a sister, daughter and friend.
Still, I believe the phrase I saw is true. Pain is useful, and I’m actually thankful for it. The pain of my failed attempt at marriage combined with all the difficulties that can be part of this life drives me to continue down a path that has led to more happiness than anything else I have ever done. It drives me to want to help people that I see also stuck in difficult circumstances either similar to mine or completely different, yet which I can speak to on some level.
Difficult personalities abound in travel and encountering them is only helping me become more compassionate and kind when I deal with people. It is indeed useful. Stereotypical travel nightmares and constant technology snags seem to befall me with the frequency of a weapon in a cheesy horror movie. This too is useful, I believe I am becoming more patient as I age and more willing to “live and let live”.
Now I haven’t arrived anywhere. I am so far from perfect it’s laughable. The pain of my past experiences and poor choices and the silly headaches that can come with frequent travel have not made me a model anything. I am learning as I go, I am determined to keep doing so and I am finding that every bad experience makes me that much more thankful for the nights like tonight where I stood in front of Fontana di Trevi watching it sparkle like something out of a Fellini movie.Whenever something bad happens, you’ll likely hear me saying under my breath, “Someday This Pain Will Be Useful to Me.” After all, the alternative view is certainly no more palatable than the idea that all which happens to us, simply sets us up for what is coming later. Can someone who has had no pain of any kind appreciate the flip side of the coin … the one which tells us, as they say here in Italy, La vita è bella? I don’t know. But I am glad I do not have to find out.
While I have your attention: Learn more about my work this May with ProjectExplorer.org in Mauritius or donate to support the incredible things being done around the world through travel, video and cultural education! - Apr 16, 12
I’m sitting in a north London flat drinking red wine after just grabbing my favorite naan for 1 Quid from the shop that’s between my tube stop and the apartment and I’m wishing that I wasn’t already leaving for Rome tomorrow. My time here is never long enough. It’s like Paris in that way.
Now, my London isn’t of Big Ben, Buckingham Palace or a luxury hotel with to-die-for views. It’s the curry places, the vintage clothes to be sourced in pop-up markets, the artisan coffee shops, the long walls of abundant street art in dodgy parts of town, the places that still sell working-film-cameras, the pubs tourists don’t go in the neighborhoods tourists don’t know about and the little corner outside Kings Cross station that will forever mean something to me which cannot be put into words – written or spoken.
I believe that sometimes travel bloggers concentrate so much on Top 10 Lists and hotel reviews that they forget travel should be about more than ticking off lists and going wherever others recommend. London is one of the places I travel to again and again because I can be traveling but be without some of the burdens that come from always being in a new place and on assignment to report every detail.A few nights back I was in a pub, partly owned by a Kiwi and we were sending off a woman from New Zealand who is leaving London to travel the world for a good while. Australian ex-pats and other Kiwis, a few South Africans and I spent a night really talking about politics, science, education, literature, movies, music … and a little bit of travel. But because I wasn’t actually with other travelers and instead with people who have proper jobs – I learned a lot that night. In several conversations I was forced to similarly trash, or defend – the United States and its politics, my way of life as an American, my choice of profession. I could hardly believe how much I learned about other people that night and even more how much I learned about myself when I was asked questions I am never normally asked. It was the kind of night you can only have in a place that you’re not from, yet in which you’re comfortable enough to let down your guard long enough to get real.
Eating curry here in the UK may not help me learn anything about India or even London. However, it has helped me like curry. For some reason, I was always hesitant to try Indian food in the United States. However, when I was taken to a curry place in Brick Lane – I didn’t want to let my friends down. So, I ordered curry. And I liked it. Now, I love it.I actually once thought the English only drank tea. Then, my friend Rick kindly took me on a coffee tour of London and I discovered the Flat White. I’ve since discovered I owe my love of that to Australians. I owe my new understanding and knowledge to Rick. To London, I owe my apologies for thinking it could ever be so narrow minded as to not embrace both tea and coffee.
I won’t make you a list of my favorite haunts in this diverse city. I’m keeping them to myself! I want to urge you to travel in such a way that sometimes you slow down and find the spots which you will never reveal, urge you to take time to learn and not just see, even urge you to skip Big Ben all together in favor of making your way slowly through neighborhoods that might be on the far edge of safe. I think it’s when we allow ourselves the opportunity to return to destinations we have visited before to see them in new ways and to really see them, not just race through them, that we do the most justice to the opportunities we have to travel. I did that with London this time. And now, I will head to Rome for a drastic change of pace where every moment will be scheduled, every meal will need to be photographed and my lesson at a Gladiator school may make for a really unique blog post. Or an embarrassing YouTube video (not that I’m a stranger to embarrassing videos). Stay tuned!
While I have your attention: Learn more about my work this May with ProjectExplorer.org in Mauritius or donate to support the incredible things being done around the world through travel, video and cultural education! - Apr 14, 12
I have a problem. I tend to fall for places easily. For a person who isn’t sure they understand what love is or is even sure it exists in the way I believed it did as a child — I’m awfully quick to say I love a place. And quickly followed by a declaration of love is the proclamation that I am moving to the place that has made its rather swift home in my flighty heart.
This happened again yesterday. I fell in love with one village after another as I explored Northamptonshire, Lincolnshire and Rutland counties in the Midlands of Great Britain. Great it was indeed to me. One stone house, after thatch roof, after aged but ornate detail impressed me to the point that I forgot my beloved NYC – and even found myself immitating a rather posh British accent that was good enough to fool a local or two.I’m not kidding. (In hindsight I wish I was, about that last bit. How embarrassing!)
Does this ever happen to anyone else when they travel? (Not the accent! The other part.)
The last time it happened in real extreme to me, was of course when I was in Paris. How could it have not!
But what’s the consequence, if there is one?
If I am always leaving pieces of my heart wherever I travel, will I eventually have no pieces left to give anyone, or leave anywhere? Might I find myself one day with an inability to find wonder and joy in anything … might love lose every last bit of meaning it has and the idea of home become a permanently distant phenomenon …
I don’t have the answers, yet. But I do have my little spot in Stamford, “The Finest Stone Town in England” all picked out. This cottage should suit me just fine. Come visit when you can, eh?While I have your attention: Learn more about my work this May with ProjectExplorer.org in Mauritius or donate to support the incredible things being done around the world through travel, video and cultural education! - Apr 12, 12
They call it Business Elite on Delta but as I’ve never been a passenger in the type of environment that my more frequently traveled friends’ brag of on airlines such as Emirates, the experience was the height of first class for me.
I had to use my miles to book my journey to London and as the difference between economy and Business Elite was surprisingly minimal, I decided to live wildly and test the way “the other half” lives.
From curbside valet, to an expedited lane through the joke that is our TSA security, to the Sky Lounge (not Delta’s finest but certainly enjoyable given the free drinks), to early boarding followed by a mimosa greeting – everything about the beginning of my experience was already superior to the other flights I have had. Business Elite for my transcontinental flight included a lay-flat bed, private monitor with free movies, endless wine, beer or mixed drinks, a noise-canceling headset that really excelled at its job, superior down blanket and a pillow I would pay almost any price to own as well as a menu that rivaled some of the meals I’ve had in NYC. My pumpkin bisque soup was so good I actually fantasized about licking the bowl, the steak with wasabi (!!!) mashed potatoes made my tummy do a happy dance and the chocolate cheesecake was decadent without being too heavy.
Business Elite even included a fast track pass for UK immigration. And while the entire experience was fabulous it’s that which perhaps made me the most giddy – my previous battle with UK immigration lasted almost two hours and as that was only back in January, the memory was fresh enough in my head to slightly terrify me still.How long did it take me to get to the tube once I walked off my plane at Heathrow, including immigration and baggage claim? All of 20 minutes.
So, what did I think about during the hour tube ride into London to catch my train out to Northamptonshire? Well, it was something along the lines of trying to memorize every part of my Business Elite experience so that I could replay it in my head the next time my feet have gone numb and my knees are locked in a charlie horse as I struggle to not pass out in cattle class. Because that will happen, and I will need a mental escape route and I’m no first class traveler … even if I did get to try it out for a day.
Next on my grand adventure? Getting to know the English countryside, I’m headed out to Northamptonshire to visit Terry and Sarah Lee.
While I have your attention: Learn more about my work this May with ProjectExplorer.org in Mauritius or donate to support the incredible things being done around the world through travel, video and cultural education! - Apr 10, 12
“You are as familiar to me as breathing.”
I’ve been in New York City now for longer than I have been in any one place, without traveling, since 2009. This is the longest I have been grounded since I began my career in travel. I have had an apartment I love, a neighborhood that fascinates me, a roommate I would die for if need be, friends who don’t work in travel and somewhat of a routine. It has been good.
Yet, I have grown restless. I have pinned and repinned quotes about getting lost until my fingers can no longer type. I have had to own that I am driven by wanderlust and a desire for learning and growth that even my beloved NYC cannot sate. This is one of the most dynamic cities on earth and certainly my favorite in the United States. But it is not enough. When I am here in NYC I can understand why 10% of Americans don’t use all of their vacation days because they say, “work is my life.” In NYC, career becomes ones life. Even after work is done for the day, we meet each other at bars….to talk about work.
So I am leaving. I’m joining the 42% of Americans who travel overseas alone and boarding a plane to begin the longest uninterrupted journey I have so far embarked on.Beginning my journey in London to visit friends and work on a sponsored project, I will then journey to Rome and Umbria for TBU, followed by remote Turkey to stay with Dalene and Pete, after which I will rendezvous with the ProjectExplorer.org crew in Johannesburg so we can travel to Mauritius to film our next series which may then be followed by a press trip in a European country I have not yet visited. For two months, my home will be the goodwill and generosity of friends and strangers. My belongings will be contained in one suitcase and an equipment pack. My office will be my lap[top] and my wanderlust will guide me when a set schedule does not.
It is perhaps an awkward time to leave. On the one hand I have enjoyed a certain sense of being settled and comfortable. I’ve learned the path that morning light travels in our apartment to blind and wake me up, never fully ready to begin a new day. I’ve found companionship, camaraderie in things besides travel and photography. NYC has become as familiar to me as breathing.
But … I don’t want familiar. I want change. I want to be one of the crazy ones. I want butterflies of fear and wonderment. I want to learn from cultures that pre-date my own and teach others in far-flung lands. I need to return to NYC to find it, or myself, a bit changed. Because I like change, it is the force that keeps me moving forward and forward motion is my favorite kind.I hope you’ll follow along with me on this journey. I’m going to start posting AS I travel … instead of after. Let’s hope the internet connections where I wander, cooperate!
What would you like to see? Learn? Know? Shout it out in the comments!
While I have your attention: Learn more about my work this May with ProjectExplorer.org in Mauritius or donate to support the incredible things being done around the world through travel, video and cultural education! - Mar 18, 12
It was a difficult pill to swallow, that moment when I finally realized camping in a rainforest was not for me. I always wanted to be more like Duzer, who survived a month living off the land in the jungles of Venezuela.
Acceptance is a funny thing. I spent so much of my energy in my teens and 20′s trying, very unhappily, to be something and someone I wasn’t because I couldn’t accept that there might be a different way of doing things that was actually open to me. Now, in my 30′s I’ve thrown caution to the wind and even though it isn’t always easy I am living a life that defies a lot of rules and conventions to pack every day full of growth, adventure and new opportunities. Yet, I still have trouble accepting my own limitations and the realities of the consequences of some of my choices. There’s a constant yin and yang to this adventurous, travel-filled life and sometimes all I see through the cloud of my persistent stubbornness … is the yin (dark side).
When my mother and I finally reached Parador Resort & Spa following the jungle camping experience – I was happy to see real walls, doors and even air conditioning. My happiness was immediately squashed when I took it as some sort of failure on my part. I’d failed to be adventure girl who could treat jungle camping like it was the best thing to ever happen to her, instead I practically ran to the swim up bar screaming for a mojito. With my tail between my legs. The thud of my self-inflicted shame hammering in my chest was deafening to my ears. Maybe I thought alcohol would numb the noise.
After a few nights at the incredible Parador, stress melted away from soaks in the infinity pool, I came to accept that my “failure” wasn’t the end of the world. Nor, was it a failure as much as simply one more learning experience. One in a patchwork quilt of a life that, hopefully – has unmeasurable proportions and a depth greater than the sea crashing just beyond resort walls.
Though I didn’t love it, I certainly did survive sleeping in the rainforest for three nights. It won’t be the last time I try something that may turn out *not* to be my cup of tea. I’ve accepted that life really is a give and take, there’s always going to be a Parador that follows the scary rainforest, eventually; and the ability to accept the good with the bad is a tool that I want to possess. The only limitations on my life are the ones I inflict upon myself; so, I’m going to continue to push myself, travel and try new things …
My trip to Costa Rica was provided by the Gift of Happiness campaign sponsored by the tourism board. As always, thoughts and opinions are mine.While I have your attention: Learn more about my work this May with ProjectExplorer.org in Mauritius or donate to support the incredible things being done around the world through travel, video and cultural education!
-
Map
- Your trip-
- The Great Two Month Change-My-Life Experiment2012-04-10 - 2012-06-03
- MRU to DUR to JNB to FRA to LHR2012-05-22 - 2012-05-23
- LHR to JFK2012-06-03 - 2012-06-03
- TBEX2012-06-14 - 2012-06-18
- LHR to JNB2012-05-11 - 2012-05-12
- TBU Post Conference Blogtrip2012-04-23 - 2012-04-25
- TBU2012-04-19 - 2012-04-22
- LHR to FCO2012-04-17 - 2012-04-19
- Isham to London2012-04-14 - 2012-04-17
-
Posts
Currently filming with ProjectExplorer.Org on the diverse island of Mauritius and you can follow along on twitter: @ProjectExplorer or Instagram: http://statigr.am/projectexplorerdotorg
I left the United States with, unfortunately, a typically Western trepidation toward Eastern religion. Islam, in particular. I am not proud of that but it is a feeling that has changed, and for that - I am grateful. Five times every day here in Burhaniye, the adhân echoes over the olive groves and in the distance I see minarets of all the camii around us. The first time, I shuddered a little bit. Now, I smile. I have met such kind and welcoming people here in Turkey that I will forever remember when I hear the call to prayer, how my travel to this country helped me see beyond the barrier of Western prejudice. Bad people can be found in every country, in every group of people. But it is not ok to judge an entire country, people or religion based on a few bad examples. Hate and mistrust is something I can *choose* not to give in to. I can choose to be open, to learn, to keep traveling for that purpose. (Taken with Instagram at Oren Merkez Camii)
Photo highlights from Bagan, Inle Lake, Mandalay and more.
want. to. do.
(also: click through and give my girl Jodi a ‘follow’. she’s newish here on Tumblr and I can promise you won’t regret it. her travel photos are the bomb.)
the old ruins at Bergama: surprisingly fun to explore and incredibly well preserved given how old they are and how accessible to people
GPOY: My friend Mike had this to say in response to this image of me in Turkey, “This is northern England in the early ’70s. Kirsten is smiling because she currently thinks she’s on a bus made of marshmallows and liquorice, driven by Elvis and filled with singing unicorns and winged cherubs wearing Aviators. If the police searched her bag, she’d get a minimum of 10 years. Also, that rubble used to be her hotel room.”
Well played, Mike. Well played.
Q: Why do you write strong female characters?
A: Because you’re still asking me that question.Joss Whedon, writer and creator of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel and Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog amongst many, many others (via curiositycounts)This is “Manti” … my first taste of true Turkish cuisine. Also, specific to this region of Turkey. It’s a meat-filled pasta in a yogurt sauce with fresh garlic, chili oil and mint. It’s a definite #yumgasm!! (Taken with Instagram at Burhaniye)
I mean, taking these cliché, “I’m in _________ bitches!!!” shots *once* in a while is ok - right?
The town of Narni actually inspired C.S. Lewis in his creation of Narnia (according to our guide). During festival time, it’s very easy to understand why. Beautiful and medieval Umbrian town. (Taken with Instagram at Narni)
Umbria is known as the “Green Heart of Italy” and while that’s easy to understand on a vineyard … I’m finding it true on many levels. Italy tugs on your heart strings here. (Taken with Instagram at Terre Margaritelli)
View from my apartment window in Rome … Viva Italia! (Taken with Instagram at Antica Pesa)
Fall in love.
I didn’t say “be loved”. That requires too much compromise. If one changes one’s looks, personality and values, one can be loved by anyone.
Rather, I exhort you to love another human being. It may seem odd for me to tell you this. You may expect it to happen naturally, without deliberation. That is false. Modern society is anti-love. We’ve taken a microscope to everyone to bring out their flaws and shortcomings. It far easier to find a reason not to love someone, than otherwise. Rejection requires only one reason. Love requires complete acceptance. It is hard work – the only kind of work that I find palatable.
Loving someone has great benefits. There is admiration, learning, attraction and something which, for the want of a better word, we call happiness. In loving someone, we become inspired to better ourselves in every way. We learn the truth worthlessness of material things. We celebrate being human. Loving is good for the soul.
Loving someone is therefore very important, and it is also important to choose the right person. Despite popular culture, love doesn’t happen by chance, at first sight, across a crowded dance floor. It grows slowly, sinking roots first before branching and blossoming. It is not a silly weed, but a mighty tree that weathers every storm.
You will find, that when you have someone to love, that the face is less important than the brain, and the body is less important than the heart.You will also find that it is no great tragedy if your love is not reciprocated. You are not doing it to be loved back. Its value is to inspire you.
Finally, you will find that there is no half-measure when it comes to loving someone. You either don’t, or you do with every cell in your body, completely and utterly, without reservation or apology. It consumes you, and you are reborn, all the better for it.
from a commencement speech entitled, “Don’t work. Be hated. Love someone.”to quote @joeybear85, “Nothing like zombies to make #popart palatable” (Taken with Instagram at Soho Park)
- 20 plays
- 90 plays
-
Checkins
- Monk & Minstrel5 Kettering Road, Isham
- The Lilacs InnChurch Street, Isham
- St Pancras Intl. Station (STP) - International LinesSt Pancras International Station
- London Heathrow Airport (LHR)234 Bath Rd.
- Frankfurt International Airport (FRA)Airportring
- The MontChoisy Beach, MauritiusLeft Of Pointe Aux Cannoniers
- Pathways99 Auckland Avenue
- FRA Airport AusweisdienstGebäude 161
- London Gatwick Airport (LGW)Gatwick Airport
- GiraffeCheck-in Hall, South Terminal
- London Heathrow Airport (LHR)234 Bath Rd.
- Burhaniye OtogarBurhaniye
-
Photos
