My Fairy-Tale Life, by Steven Boone

  In the heart of a quaint, secluded village, amidst cornfields and rolling hills nestled by mountains, lived an enigmatic artist named Este...

  I more clearly see an ending to this journey, with each day bringing me closer to a final scene. I want whatever time is left to be meanin...

  It is like surfing a big wave, moving to Mexico. I have been swept along, thrilled to be in each moment, feeling I could fall dangerously,...

“You channeled that painting.” Amy said, looking intently into my eyes.   We were standing in our kitchen after she came home from a...

Two roads diverged in a wood and I - I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference. -Robert Frost The...

--> My first blog post was seven years ago . . . on October 7. Since then, I have posted 384 times, almost every week without fai...

I am two days late writing my blog . . . and this after uploading faithfully each weekend for 50 weeks traveling around the world. I blame ...

Now that I returned to the United States after fifty weeks of travel, I do not feel as if I reached a goal or have landed safely home but ra...