Rocktown.
Besides a few weeks here and there I left Nashville when I was 18, and have never returned with any sense of permanence. When I arrived there last November slightly disheveled from international travel and being whipped by the ways of the world, my sensitive self felt more determined than ever not to get tangled up in its southern claws. I planned my departure dates with sternness to my family, implying I had so many better places to be.
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Trying to figure out how to boulder.
I used to define sections of my life with blog posts. Each submit would tidily tie up a trip or stay somewhere. These days we’ve been moving too fast to keep up with blogs, footage, photos or people for that matter. While my content for blogs keeps getting greater, the time to organize it, tell about it, and really comprehend it seems to diminish inside each intertwining trip and travel.
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