I hate to travel. Hate it. Before hand, I’m exhausted with dread.

And inevitably there is some major unexpected guffaw in the plans or the journey. This time – I was heading out to see my son, Samsun graduate – the plane was not at the runway. Two hours later it had still not left the other airport, was not en route. It arrived 45 minutes after that. And then, because it had not been in service (arrived empty) had to undergo a complete “security sweep”. Another, was it 45 minutes? Just say, it was late.

That was just on the way there.

That was the macro – the larger picture.

Then there was the micro. Because the plane was so late, I was able to have this long conversation with this guy who programs airplanes. He flies all over the world solving software issues so that planes fly as they should. He had just returned from Brazil where a plane scheduled for 9 PM might normally leave at 3 AM.

Suffice it to say that the travels themselves were not exactly smooth. But the intimate parts of the trip: seeing Samsun, seeing where he had spent 2 years, seeing Amanda, meeting some of his friends, spending time with Ariella. Meeting a man from Algiers where Ariella will spend 10 months starting this fall. All of this: magical. Unforgettable. Micro.

Message to myself: forget the larger picture – that getting there and getting back part. The accomplishment.

Focus on the moments.

Same as art.

(which I totally love)