The heat of August is inescapable. It lingers and swelters and leaves you in a sundrenched haze. As temperatures continue to climb over the sprawl of concrete that I, at the moment, call home, the desire for a sense of escape is profound. Slow, intentional moments dripping with nostalgia become the main ingredient of my existence this time of year. Behind sunscreen smudged sunglasses I find myself lost in daydreams of a childhood spent on slip and slides, running through front yard sprinklers and my parent’s wild idea of a crab boil for my sister’s 5th birthday party. These memories come in flashes, spinning into sunflared souvenirs of long lost carefree summers. Bright colors of plastic pools, grass stained cut off shorts and chalk drawn bike courses on the burning asphalt of the cul-de-sac – These are the echoes of my very early childhood. One that feels so impossibly far away, and yet still manages to wash me in a sense of timeless joy and adventure. I wish that I could bottle up that feeling of an innocent, wide eyed summer. The feelings of long lost days full of wonder and possibility. The days of skinned knees and the call of ice cream trucks. A time when land lines kept us grounded in reality and stacks of four by six drugstore photos cluttered junk drawers and filled countless shoe boxes. I long for the simplicity of it all. The Kodak tone of my childhood. 

I see my life as a series of images. Tableaus and moments designed out of a deep desire to live a full and beautiful life. It is, in a way, a compulsion. A need to spread aesthetics and intention into every corner of my little world. A curiosity for beauty and connection and experiences – A place where moments of the perfectly imperfect can thrive and swirl about in my mind.

I have always claimed to not really love summer. It was never a season that I truly wanted to melt into. But in time, summer proved to be a slow burn for me. I needed to learn how to live in the heat. To fall in love with all that the season had to offer beyond sweltering afternoons and the feeling that there was nothing to do. I needed to plunge into the sea and let the salt linger on my skin and in my hair. To grow into a person who loves heirloom tomatoes and linen dresses and the feeling of sunkissed skin over warm late night dinners. I simply did not know how to love summer. But now I do.

A summertime escape to Europe. From crystal clear waters in Croatia to slow living in Portugal, this little photographic tour is worth melting into.