"And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom." -- Anais Nin

Hola Soldados Prójimos de Chrsyalis,
I had to use my my mini Berlitz translator for that. I only know how to say "airport", "where is the jukebox?" and "what did I just drink?" in Spanish. The rest is gonna be a language free-for-all. Good thing I'm traveling with the veritable Spanish dictionary Vicky Cavaliere for when I also need to ask "why would you say something like that?" or say "these pants looked really good when I tried them on at Target." Vicky's my friend of many years from Denver. She works here for NBC. We share a shameful, historic thread in the form of a few years spent at Cherry Creek High School back in the gay nineties. She's also my co-Producer on the project that is Honduras.

Back in May, Vicky and I spent a summer afteroon at an Astoria Italian joint talking about the longer, stronger thread that we share as adults: wanderlust. Vicky's been all over the world and travel's had the same effect on her that it's had on me. It's created a fierce hunger to be shaped by where she's been and what she's discovered. She's just like me. Seeing some of the world has only made her want to see more.

One of the things I love most about New York is that it's such a fertile junkyard. So many cool people with cool ideas thrown on top of each other, once in awhile you're bound to find a treasure. Over pizza and wine, Vicky and I polished up one of those treasures for ourselves. We'd both talked about how much we longed to make travel and writing into work. I've certainly uncovered a truth over the twelve-plus years I've lived here. If you say how much you wish something was a certain way long enough, at some point it occurs to you that you should just fucking make it so for yourself.

Ouila, Honduras. We decided we'd create a travel show for people who travel like we do. We'd give it a spirited, personal revelation feel mixed with a tradtional guidebook style and we'd target an audience of people who want to see what else is out there. We chose Honduras because we've never been there, it's an eco/indie travel gem loaded with great things to do and it's in a region that's getting a lot of press but remains undervisited. We thought we'd go see why and then share it with our viewers.

As I write, I've received word that our multi-faceted Director/DP/Associate Producer Mitch Dickman of Listen Productions in Denver is at the airport and on his way to New York to join us on this adventure. He'll be with us for the entire two weeks, helping us chronicle the sights, sounds, smells, textures, foibles, risks and rewards that Honduras has in store for us. When we return, the skilled Chris Guido will edit our first episode. As we edit, we'll be posting web-exclusive footage and travel diaries onto our website as well as information about the premiere episode, which we hope to have ready to debut in May.

Come see us at Off The Radar Productions and say hello.

I'm taking you all along in my heart so that I can share beer and sunsets with you.

I know it's cheeseball as hell, but every time I leave, I hear this in my head:
"Goodbye to all my friends at home/goodbye to people I've trusted.
I've got to go out and make my way/I might get rich, you know I might get busted.
But my heart keeps calling me backwards/as I get on the 707.
Ridin high, I got tears in my eyes/You know you got to go through hell
before you get to heaven."

God bless Steve Miller. Anais Nin is damn good but sometimes you gotta keep it simple.

Vicky, that one's for you.
Nick, you are a true Doctor/Scientist.
And to all of you, fellow Chrysalis soldiers,
Las vivas y Gracias para leer!

No Camera Can Capture What Your Heart Can Hold

Damn, that's good.

I wish it were mine. It's a slogan I saw last week on a "Visit Costa Rica" ad. I'm holding onto it like a tiny, polished rock in my pocket as I make my way through this final week before my departure to Honduras.

As I write this, it's eleven degrees in New York. Our local sensationalist weatherpeople are pulling out the fancy descriptive words, dusting 'em off and throwing 'em at our tv screens. "Snap", "bitter", "frigid". The ancient "feels like it's" wind-chill hymn floats and winds its way through the barren branches of the few trees that line Park Avenue. I was going to say the weather is all anyone fucking talks about but I've just realized it's all I fucking talked about for an entire paragraph.

I left my backpack on the floor this morning, bursting from every seam with OFF DEET and little packets of oatmeal. I've got Advil, Cipro, Pepto, all the one-word remedies. I'm loaded up with mini bottles of every conceivable necessity. Packing up this weekend had its usual haunting familiarity. The routine of it, the sort of odd, jaded feeling that washes over me as I stare at a pyramid of rolled up underwear on the couch. It just always strikes me sort of hard in the chest that I can make a home out of something I carry on my back. It feels somber and empowering all at once.

I watched a travel show last week where the host described the Greek culture as having intense wanderlust tempered by a deep need to be home. Pow! Another hard strike in the chest. That's me--that duality. Wanderlust slowly tattoos itself onto my psyche, making itself permanent, ingrained, undeniable. A living, colorful scar. And then there's home with its comfortable magnetic pull. I'm Christina in the Wyeth painting: always crawling through the grass to get back. That's gotta be the strange, jaded cloud that hangs over my packing for a big trip. I need to go fill up my heart's camera but...well, I'll be leaving home at the top of the hill.

About the camera, for a moment. I am going to find home in a backpack for two weeks, indeed. But before I go, I promise to let you all in on what exactly it is we're doing in fair Honduras. Look for one more post from me before I go with a few precious details. Let's say we're hoping that this post's title is true only on other trips.

If all goes as planned, when we return on March 1st heart and camera will be equal.