On Being Nothing
Brian Jay Stanley’s article is still some of the best writing on the internet.
Brian Jay Stanley’s article is still some of the best writing on the internet.
I spent some time thinking about what to share as a first post. I felt like it should be about a place and time that captures the mood, the calmness and contentment that I long for in most of my travels.
In December 2016, I decided to go to the Abruzzo region of Italy. There, along the Adriatic coast, lies a small town called Tortoreto that I have visited countless times since my childhood.
We went there at all times of the year - whenever there was a holiday. But my fondest memories of Tortoreto are from winter. It is a quiet place then, with that special magic that holiday spots often have off-season: a nostalgic, sleepy atmosphere, similar to that of places built for crowds when they are empty.
I remember spending hours there reading. I remember discovering video games at the arcade on the beach and walking along the long esplanade. And I remember a moment of walking on the beach during light rain, watching the raindrops leave little dents behind in the sand beneath my feet.
Unsurprisingly, I thought of Tortoreto again when I was looking for a place to flee from the busyness and noise of Christmas time, to spend some time alone, to reflect, read, and take long walks - but mostly, just to enjoy the quiet. I was happy to find that Tortoreto had not lost its charm.
The pictures were taken with an iPhone 5s, and I think they hold up surprisingly well. In fact, to this day, they are some of my favourite pictures.
This is mostly an experiment. Ideally, it will be a place to share some travel impressions, and maybe some thoughts about culture and technology. I would like to avoid this site becoming too shallow, so kindly be patient if – or rather when – posting is irregular. For the same reason, photographs might be current, but most of them will probably be shared after some time has passed. Maybe the best way to treat this is as if it were letters, written from afar.