One of the most predictable things @phillipcrosby says on a daily basis is ‘ooooh, what’s in there?? Let’s look.’ He will walk down any dark hall to find where the light comes from. We’ve found many a secret courtyard because of him. #ecuadorexploring #Quito #oregontopatagonia (at Basílica del Voto Nacional)


Twenty-five years ago, on April 15, 1989, Chinese students were mourning the death of a reformist leader. But what began as mourning evolved into mass protests demanding democracy. Demonstrators remained in Beijing’s Tiananmen Square, day after day, until their protests were brutally suppressed by the Chinese army — on June 4. Hundreds died; to this day, no one knows how many.

NPR’s Louisa Lim explores those events, the forgotten deaths and the Chinese government’s rewriting of the official narrative in a new book, The People’s Republic of Amnesia. Her story includes an investigation into a forgotten crackdown in the southwestern city of Chengdu — which, to this day, has never been reported.

Tang Deying holds her determination in the stubborn set of her jaw. This diminutive, disheveled, elderly woman shuffling into the room in her pink plastic flip-flops is one of the few living links to the crackdown in Chengdu during the summer of 1989.

When martial law troops opened fire on civilians in Beijing on June 4, 1989, the violence was beamed immediately into living rooms around the world. Yet it has taken a quarter-century for details to emerge of the deadly events in Chengdu that cost Tang’s 17-year-old son his life.

For 25 years, a single aim has driven Tang’s existence: seeking restitution and accountability for the death of her son, Zhou Guocong, who was fatally beaten in police custody after disappearing in the 1989 Chengdu crackdown.

"Right is right. Wrong is wrong," she told me firmly

See the rest of the story here.

Images courtesy Louisa Lim and Kim Nygaard

(via npr)


A 2002 Bluebird with a Vanagon on top of it.  Post on A Restless Transplant with more info. 

(via outofreception)


I just went back, way back, into my Facebook pictures and thought about my fears at the time. My absolute stress about what college to go to. My stress of Law School and having no idea how to pay my loans or work in corporate law at the expense of my heart. The invitation from @invisiblechildren to work for them. My fear of inadequacy. Living in London. My fear of leading my first trip to Uganda. Discovering my mentor. Fearing being alone. Of leaving the job of my dreams to live on the road to Patagonia for over a year. My next fear of becoming an author.

The best thing about looking at old photos, especially at 31, is that you realize that the grand story of your life makes lovely sense, messy sense, and that old fears were squashed by the heavy strength of life, friends, mentors, teams, and adventure. We plan and stress and shake, and most of it is just noise that clogs our thoughts from the fearless river that is telling our meaningful story. #oregontopatagonia #sorryforthesermon #unfollow (I really recommend doing this with your photos, …much feels)



Cody Cobb

That last one feels particularly on point with weather in D.C. today. -Emily

(via npr)

going to sleep too late to wake up too early tomorrow and finish unfinished work; then off to school and afterwards maybe a nap before I continue catching up on everything I’m bogged down on.

today wasn’t a great day and I hope tomorrow will be different, but the thing about days is that they don’t end and begin — really, they bleed into each other and with them all your triumphs, all your faults and your regrets.


Living in suburban Southern California, United States.
I dream of open roads.
I have no idea where I'm going, but I'd like to have a good time getting there.
This is my little tumblelog of dreams and thoughts, art and images, inspiration and aspirations.