http://www.aliternation.com Words and how we use them: travel & writing Sun, 02 Dec 2007 14:53:28 +0000 http://backend.userland.com/rss092 en And then go to Venice, and fall in love with everything all over again. But Venice… I always think you can appreciate a place whilst you’re there, but you don’t really learn about it in yourself until you’ve gone. Sometimes travel has to settle into you once you’re away from ... http://www.aliternation.com/2006/03/08/and-then-there-was-venice/ Discovery does not come in the time you travel in a car, but in the moments you stop and take in a breath, stretching legs out after all of those miles. You see, for the first time in hours, even though you’ve been watching roads drift by like a silent ... http://www.aliternation.com/2005/08/23/watergate-bay-in-progress/ I am newly in love. That feeling of pain which sleeps in your stomach when you eat, sleep and breathe the thing which obsesses you. I am living it right now, and I want to keep it to myself. To hide the awe in which I behold this love: Corsica. ... http://www.aliternation.com/2005/06/09/corsica/ I don’t really know how to post anything on this site. Will have to figure that out at some point. If you’re trying to post something here, just press any link and hope it takes you to this ‘write post’ page. Very confusing. ‘Today I am going to kill something. Anything’…from ... http://www.aliternation.com/2005/05/11/it%e2%80%99s-may-sometime/ I memorized it, like a poem. The lines of your face and the scruff of your unshaven cheeks and the light from the street that gleams off your back, as you sleep. And I held it so close,in my mind,in my heart, buried in my soul. Until touching you became touching me. We created a palimpsest;a ... http://www.aliternation.com/2005/04/13/tracing/ Across so many miles in so few minutes, and I wonder where the time has gone? I can see it on my face. The subtle changes wear on me like something I didn’t really want, something I’m not quite comfortable with. I ran through Iceland to get to Key West to ... http://www.aliternation.com/2005/04/13/travelling-this-is-not-a-poem/ You are building our bed. The wood, sitting on the kitchen floor for months is forging its way into furniture. Will you build this bed like you have built this love? Slow, steady, with bursts of passion? Worshipping every curve, angle, the grain of the wood with your eyes, your hands, taking your time over it, afraid ... http://www.aliternation.com/2005/03/13/downstairs-a-work-in-progress/