It was during my long and dusty sojourn in the Middle East, wandering collapsed, ruined villages, haggling through ancient markets that I first encountered the yemeni, or Turkish slipper. Now, i'm not the most fashion-driven or even fashionable guy, but the effortless, dare I say, timeless cool. Travelblogger and Novelist, Nicholas Andriani takes on fashion and time honored crafts from the ancient villages of Istanbul to Manhattan New York.
Bohemian nights in Valencia where the gypsies shred violins into the coming dark "Rhythmic swells reverberate trough my lungs. The back streets of Valencia. Back street Europe. Romani enclaves and gypsy parts of town. We'll sit here in the Plaça de la Virgen with our stiff sangria, smartly bashful in red-faced delerium. For it is Spring and the blossoms have begun to sing. A nod to blanco nerium" A poem to the City of Oranges. An Open Love Letter to the City of Valencia, Spain.
Don't be victimized by the culture of fear. Our planet is waiting to be explored, to reveal it's secrets to you, to me, to any who dare ask, it will expose you to the raw truths of life. To the quarks of distant cultures and alien tongues. To disgusting foods and delicious cuisines, to dangerous and countless blessings. Nicholas Andriani's personal essay on travel, adventure, and taking the Road Less Traveled whether that means hitting the Sahara or striking up a conversation in a coffee shop. It's all an adventure.
On the art of journaling, note taking, and recording the world around you. These are my favorite notebooks for daily musings and painting.
The Bosphorus splits Istanbul in two parts. A rift in the madness of Europe and Asia, drifting between bodies of fresh and salt water cooling the heated passion of a most ancient urban jungle. The hot, hot, heat of human movement generates organized chaos as this great strait, this rift, cushions the blow, keeping this … Continue reading Sketching Sights: Istanbul, City on the Edge (Art. Travel. Writing. Islam. Architecture)
Confessions of an Antisocial Writer. Cafes? Don't do it. For he love of all things Didion! I mean, I get it, there is this undeniable sex appeal. This intrique: scattering your notes across that old bistro set, the heady demitasse begging for your lips: what's the WiFi code? Nah, I write longhand.
I could spend a lifetime, drunken on the sea breeze, lost among these islands of Minotaurs and Men.
I'm not here to pretend to be some guru or act like I know anymore than you do because, believe me, the older I get, the less I know. Funny how that works when the world is running wild with "twenty-somethings" peddling Nirvana and life-coaching: really just give me $99 and I promise you'll feel better. Go ahead, try it.
A strange thing happens when you begin to contemplate the end. It’s as if setting such a definitive goal opens the world to endless possibilities: a phone is buzzing,
"My sudden love of these two women came into existance upon two separate planes of thought Like a split in the multiverse that is the self. Shay. Shay is stability. Comfort. Success. Whereas Ingrid. Ingrid claims the part of me which belongs to the world. A manifestation of my desire to roam freely and simply be. But, I know in my heart of hearts these two worlds can not coexist. For they, separately, are everything. Yet together, in the folds of life, they cancel each other out." --In Another Country
Novelist. Reader. Archaeologist. After high school I hit the road. A spontaneous bus ride to Mexico City led me into the hazy mountains, the deep emerald forests of Chiapas where I discovered the beautiful and heartbreaking world of the Maya (yes, they still exist) and found something deeply rooted, down in my heart of hearts: A need to be part of something greater, to commit myself to people less fortunate.
I mean, it's not cheating if nothing happens. Oh, but emotions run deep. Which begs the question: What’s worse, an emotional or a physical affair?
Excerpt from The Outsider: A Memoir? "The sky out my window is that fiery red which makes the heart swell with life and there it is again: that sensational expanding within my chest, rising to my throat, gripping and stinging my eyes."
*unedited from rough draft (The Outsider: A Novel) I woke up one morning in a state of complete despair and found myself debating the absurdity of carrying on like this when I had options. They were clear as day and night and manifest out of who-knows-where: One, I could kill myself. Two, I could go … Continue reading One: I Could Kill Myself | Two: I Could Go To Africa –scene from The Outsider, A Novel.
“It’s like walking through a dream: where everything glows a soft infusion of yellow-gold and the lightness of being is simply enough.” -excerpt from an old interview on the emotions, sensations of traveling North Africa (Image. Morocco)
Before the world can truly reveal itself you must take a period of meditation. A time of reflection. To pre-game, to set a cosmic course of action by stating your intentions and making them manifest. This is the driving force behind Sketching Sights. To become one with the elements of each and every environment that strikes me. […]
Experience New York City like a local. Expert tips on where to eat, what to see and do in a weekend or layover.
Travel the the bizarre world of Morocco. This multi-part travel guide discusses the top foods, sights and things to do in this wonderfully amazing Kingdom.
Spanish wine and a sun drenched recipe? Yes, please. My highlight from my affair with the wines of @RiberaRuedaWine #recipes #foodblog #foodwriter #wine #wino #ribera #rueda #spain #satchat #grill
Earlier this year, I set a goal to finish a solid draft of my memoir and to achieve this mission i'm going into the wild, er, offline... A MONTHLONG period away from social media, the internet, ethernet and all those nets, in an archaic approach to finish this labor of love that i'm damn excited … Continue reading NaNoWriMo : Into the Wild