An adventurous soul.


I made this canvas just before Christmas to decorate a bare spot on our wall.

I just bought wooden letters and then painted them and glued them on.

I used a different paint for the “DARLING” so it would stand out, but subtly. Loving that neon pop.

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This is a phrase that is dear to my heart. It’s what I want to do. What I must do for the nourishment of my soul. One of the things I derive most pleasure in life from.

Only thing is, sometimes my soul feels a little bit more like wrapping my darlings in multiple layers of cotton wool and hiding under the bed than gallivanting off on an adventure – near or far.

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Sometimes this internal conflict exhausts me and fear nearly overwhelms me, destroying that wonderful anticipation in the lead up to a trip.

But I still go. With my darling or darlings. And I’m always so elated that I did.

I imagine the woman who uttered this phrase (and I just know it was a chick) was one of those irrepressibly curious, sensible but adventurous types: a kind of Katharine Hepburn on the back of a camel in the Gobi desert one week, flying over Luxor in a hot air balloon the next, equally at home at a cocktail soiree as in a Bornean long house.

When I get really anxious I think about that girl. Her plane didn’t crash, she wasn’t robbed at knifepoint, didn’t contract rabies or perish in an earthquake. Nope, she died old and satisfied at the end of a long and fulfilling life.

But she wouldn’t have, if she hadn’t grabbed her husband by the hand and headed out into the world.