Travels Through Life
A Photo Essay
Beginning Adventures
My great-grandfather was born under the redwoods of Cazadero in 1913. 90 years later, those same redwoods only, much, much, taller, opened up their arms and welcomed me into their element. My first vacation was to my family’s cabin — built by my great-grandfather in the 1950’s. Being the fourth generation to experience the greatness of Cazadero, I quickly caught on, and soon enough the smell of redwoods and the sound of Dean Martin and Frank Sinatra music during cocktail hour climbed into my soul and became a part of me.
From a child’s perspective, Cazadero seemed millions of miles away: it was nothing like our quiet, suburban town of Rohnert Park. Games of hide-and-seek on summer nights, the creepy abandoned house at the end of the road, and the nearby creek provided me with the tools to find my own adventure. I was a deep sea explorer, finding interesting pebbles in the murky creek. I was an acrobat, jumping from log to log to avoid the lava hundreds of feet below. I was unapologetically me, and the skyscraper trees and endless sky above me were a constant reminder of all of the possible places I could explore.
This photograph, taken in the midst of the winter holiday festivities, perfectly captures the comfort and coziness the cabin possesses. The smoke from the chimney and comforting yellow lights paint a dreamy picture of a perfect childhood. My adventures always possessed a sense of ease and comfort: for if my adventures were too scary, I knew that my grandma would be inside the warm house with open arms to reassure me that Chucky the Doll was not, in fact, hiding within the redwoods.
Halting the Explorations
My mother’s only brother and his family moved from the Bay Area to New Jersey in early 2016. As it upset our small, Bay Area native family, it also created a sense of comfort on the other side of the country. Suddenly the east coast was not a foreign place to me. Since I learned it was truly only a plane ride away, my perspective on distance and travel completely changed. I realized, though far in distance, everything is actually very close — for, we share the same wide, endless sky.
Cazadero is no longer a place for new discoveries, for hundreds of visits and adventures have made me know the quirky people and places within it like I know my own room. Even San Francisco — a city I always considered vast and confusing — is becoming smaller and smaller every time I visit.
This photograph, taken over the summer in Hoboken, New Jersey, truly represents my current outlook on new places and adventure. The crisp image of the railing and nearby water slowly fades into an unclear and less distinctive city. Just like my future, it is unclear what the beyond possesses. In this photograph, I am not only in a whole different state than the exhilarating city ahead of me, but I’m also in a whole different state of mind. For, as a high school student still living at home protected by my family, I am not quite in the position to seek large adventures — yet. Since I know my departure from the only life I’ve known is soon, but not yet, I can only look from afar.
Finding a Destination
I essentially have many family ties to San Francisco: my ancestors came from Italy long ago and settled there, my grandparents were both born and raised there, my father and grandfather both worked as firefighters there, and my great-uncle currently resides there in his childhood home.
As I plan out my life, I always see myself back in the city where my whole family originated. I want to discover new places and seek adventure in my life, but at some point I know I will need to settle down and find my place in this world. San Francisco — even though it is a large city — has a special place in my heart. There are so many hidden places within the city, so many places to explore.
This photograph captures a rare, late summer sunset in the city. When I am seventy-five, towards the end of my life, my own sky will begin to dim into a beautiful sunset. I hope to celebrate my sunset years in the quiet, more unknown places of the city. In this photo, “Gold Mirror” is faintly projected on a sign in front of an ordinary building. This old, Italian restaurant — which happens to be my favorite, is a world of utter joy and happiness inside, and constantly reminds me of my ancestor’s travels from Italy. In my life ahead of me, I hope to occupy this same feeling — quietly possessing wise experiences of places I’ve seen and people I’ve met, and making everyone I come in contact with feel that there is an endless sky for everyone.
