Europe... long ago and yesterday

Bear with me...
i'm all over the place today, looking at old journals,
so this post may not be the most coherent.

Years ago, i took a solo trip to Europe.

It was one of the most memorable times of my life,

partly because i was in Europe,

and partly because i was alone.

I was only there 3 weeks,

but in those few weeks,

my life changed.

Being alone forces one to be courageous,

consciously or unconsciously.

There were a few awakenings on that trip,

but there were also a few times

where i was frightened,

and wondered whether i had made the right decision

to go alone.

But i had always wanted to go to Europe

and none of my friends (at the time) wanted to join me.

So i went.

Now that i look back,

i think this is where my *illustrated journaling* was born.

i had been drawing and keeping journals for years separately,

but in Europe, 

being surrounded by such beautiful architecture,

i began combining both -

the sketching and the writing.

I bought myself a little sketchbook while i was there,

and began to sketch people

and markets

and cathedrals.

My senses were all at their peak -

the visual beauty & despair,

the taste of different foods,

the sounds,

the different scents in the air,

On my first night in Vienna,

from the open window

in my tiny hotel room on the 3rd floor,

i was soothed to sleep

by the sounds of someone playing the cello

in the building across the cobble stone street.

Heaven.

Whenever i look at my sketches,

i am transported back in time

as though i were still there.

some of it is good,
some of it is not.
Some is heaven, some is hell.

I don’t live in the past,

but once in a while,

i like going back there,

just to gain a new perspective

on where i am today.

Some may wonder what the point is,

but here’s the point for me:

it is my life

in little snippets

on paper.

It is a way for me to remember.

A way for me to be reminded

of where i’ve been

and why i’m going where i’m going.

When i returned back to Canada,

exhausted, sweltering in the summer heat,

and about 10lbs lighter from all the walking,

I sat on one of the chairs & waited for my ride home.

As i sat there,

i thought of what i had seen during the past weeks,

some of the people i had met,

some of the museums and art galleries i had visited,

the trains i had missed

the sanctuaries i had found,

and the experiences i could have done without.

…and i wondered,

had it all been worth it?

Out of nowhere,

an older woman with white hair sat next to me,

and asked me if i was arriving or leaving.

“i’m arriving - from Europe”, i said.

She smiled at me, and with a tinge of sadness in her eyes, she replied:

“oh, that’s wonderful. i’ve always wanted to go to Europe,

but i’ve never been, and at this age,

i doubt that i will ever make it there”.

And in an instant, 

i knew that it had been worth it.

All of it.

So if any of you out there

are doubting the value of keeping a sketchbook,

stop doubting

and start keeping one today.

It doesn't need to be a fancy one.

It just needs to belong to YOU.