A travel journal you found

Still smelling of the road.

Not a magazine you bought — a shoebox of loose film prints, torn ticket stubs and margin scribbles, dumped out on the table and pinned back up. Read the ones that are still developing.

Flip through the roll 40 rolls & counting

An empty road running dead straight toward a low sun over volcanic hills — somewhere past the last town

A mountain pass road curving under snow-streaked alpine peaks and cloud — the pass, before the rain

A route 28 tram coming down a steep cobbled Lisbon street between tiled facades and iron balconies — tram 28, wrong stop, no regrets

A lone figure walking a vast desert dune, tiny against the sand — nobody for a hundred miles

keep flipping →

BOARDING · SEAT 22A · ONE WAY

Old luggage tags, a postage stamp, a paperclip and a torn label on paper

Nº 01 — the premise

read this bit slowly

This is not ten things to do before you die. It is the wrong bus, taken on purpose. The village with no name on the timetable. Coffee gone cold while the light did something you'll never quite describe. Every entry is one place, walked slowly and written down before it faded.

Nº 02 — the wall

Four prints I
never took down.

Drag right → walk the wall. Every print is a full entry in the journal.

Venezia · Italy

The city that keeps sinking on purpose

Off the vaporetto at the wrong stop again. The good stops are always the wrong ones.

Goðafoss · Iceland

A waterfall named for old gods

Long exposure, freezing hands, a thermos of something warm. The whole country smells of rain and iron.

Kyoto · Japan

A round window onto a whole garden

Sat on the tatami until they asked me to leave. Then sat a while longer.

Zákynthos · Greece

A cove you can only reach by falling

Down a cliff path the guidebook swore did not exist. The shipwreck was still there.

the roll keeps going

Read every
field note →

Nº 03 — the darkroom

Everything here was shot on film, so nothing arrives in a hurry. It has to develop first.

No presets, no drone shots, no ten-best lists. Just what a hand-wound camera and a patient walk gave up — hung on the line to dry, printed once, and taped into the book exactly as it came back.

ROLLS DEVELOPED

forty and counting

SHORTEST ENTRY

four words

LONGEST DETOUR

nine days

FILM STOCK

whatever the shop had

A round window looking onto a Kyoto garden, drying on the line — still wet

An Icelandic waterfall in long exposure, drying on the line — iron & rain

don't touch — drying →

Nº 04 — from the notebook

Loose pages, torn out.

Read the whole book →

The tram I kept missing on purpose — Lisbon · Portugal — Lisbon · Portugal

Field Note18 min

Still smelling of the road.