Notes on racism and trolls coming out to play

I grew up in a place where everyone was black like me. The Igbos had a honey-caramel tint to their blackness, the Hausas had an ashy-matte tone to their blackness, and the Yorubas (my tribe) had a chocolaty feel to their blackness. We were all black. Racism meant nothing to me back then.

Thoughts On Investing In Travel

I rarely talk about my husband here. After all, he is a fiercely private man. One of the many qualities I admire about him. A doer. Not an unnecessary talker. A talker only to learn more about you, balancing this by listening to you share your stories.

The Weight of Moments

I didn’t take a single photograph over Thanksgiving though I had good intentions. My goal was to play with both fixed lenses – 50mm and 35mm – over the break, shooting everything in sight, but it never happened. The camera never left its bag, and for the first time in a really long time, I didn’t care.