This was not my first trip alone, nor will it be my last. Because so many people think this is an eccentricity, it made me pause and wonder how and why it never seemed strange to me. I believe I inherited my wanderlust adventurous spirit. My mother, born in Austria, born Jewish, and pre WWII, as a young teenager traveled from Austria to South America and eventually to the United States before she turned twenty. Most of these travels she did on her own. She was courageous and independent. I did not learn this from her because I did not know this side of my otherwise very domesticated mother who never went anywhere alone during my youth, and still doesn’t. She shared her youthful stories with me only recently. I suppose I saw a flicker of her adventurous spirit as her dreams of adventure diminished. I knew I was not going to live with the same regret.

On the other hand, my father, who claims to not like traveling, often did and does solely. In my youth I recall him taking his motorcycle and being gone for a day or two or more, as he would say, “just going for a ride”. I remember him getting in his airplane and soaring off, “just going for a flight”. For him it was never the destination, it was the solitary journey. I have both desires-the desire to explore new places and the desire for the solitary journey.

Lari Pittman’s “Go Girl” 1995 painting serves as a daily inspiration for me. Probably the artist has a different interpretation than the one I have, but I believe if you only live it once, live it well and don’t let regret, guilt, or fear spoil or overwhelm the experience.