TvdB Inspirations: Blog en-us (C) TvdB Inspirations [email protected] (TvdB Inspirations) Mon, 16 Mar 2020 07:36:00 GMT Mon, 16 Mar 2020 07:36:00 GMT TvdB Inspirations: Blog 95 120 Scare Tactics Say CheeseSay Cheese

young adult making him appear larger

[email protected] (TvdB Inspirations) africa elephants safari serengeti tusks Mon, 03 Jun 2019 08:37:30 GMT
Family First Family MattersFamily Matters

Just your typical afternoon stroll through the park

[email protected] (TvdB Inspirations) africa elephants family first safari Mon, 03 Jun 2019 08:32:14 GMT
Lather. Rinse. Repeat. Keep your nose cleanKeep your nose clean

teenage elephant hogging the bath

[email protected] (TvdB Inspirations) africa elephants safari Mon, 03 Jun 2019 08:29:48 GMT
A Glorious Lift Good MorningGood Morning

I am Ryan

[email protected] (TvdB Inspirations) africa air ballon hot safari Mon, 03 Jun 2019 08:24:31 GMT
"Zoo-Kept" Zoos. So right for some reasons, so wrong for others. Is showing the Earth's magnificent beings within a caged environment worthwhile an in-person closeup? (I promise not to make this a preaching, lobbying blog on eliminating zoos from our society - rather a commentary from one photographers takeaways from shooting zoos vs. shooting on safari.)

 Living in this world of visual saturation, with photographers going to extremes providing never-ending free looks of this wild planet of ours, is the joy and thrill of visiting a zoo now diminishing? I have even struggled with the "why bother?" loss of inspiration to get out there and shoot as my eyes and memory banks are filled with others' work. (Note to self - stop following NatGeo on Instagram - lol.)

Groomed CroonDomestic CatsThis pair captured in the San Francisco Zoo, show their calm nature, manicured and groomed appearance. They were roaring in harmony. A peaceful site, yet tugged at my "born free" struggle. The King and Queen of the concrete jungle, looking like they were just groomed!

Now, who doesn't love a trip to the Zoo? Kids, adults, tourists, animal enthusiasts absolutely benefit from the close-up looks they get of the Earth's wildlife creatures that perhaps they would never see in their natural habitat. As an animal lover and wildlife photographer, I have benefitted greatly from my trips to Zoos across the United States and Europe. Some fantastic closeup opportunities, offering (for some) a once in a lifetime perspective on animals one would only find via photographs. Perspective. Photography. That's really what photography all about: providing a personal, or widely exposed, publicly-shared unique perspective on life. 


The disheartening experience of a Zoo visit is drawing the conclusion that these animals are not truly experiencing the life they were destined to live. Sure they are safe from poachers, surrounded by care specialists, but seeing the King of the Jungle being fed a side of beef in a concrete-walled enclosure is downright wrong. That is, It FEELS wrong. It looks wrong.  I have captured apes acting apathetic and looking entirely bored. Sitting still. Looking at me like "yea, not much fun around here, I know glare." (My own interpretation, of course.)

Zoo 16Zoo 16

This fellow stared at me, unmoved, for minutes on end. The energy felt was complete boredom.

Now, perspective was unusual and unique. Knowing a brief period of patience was usually all it took to find an intriguing animal in an intriguing angle, position, interaction, light and shadow. Opportunities were abound and some grand in scale to capture these caged wonders of this world. Photographically a most cherished event that I am grateful for. That said, a missing "big picture" perspective is simply not to be found. 


In summary, my zoo visits have left me underwhelmed which gratefully field my commitment to get out to see these living wonders in their natural state. A wildlife safari journey was born. I got out my piggy banks and started planning. Realizing a trip to africa was a few years off, my  curiosity into wildlife parks got my attention. (next blog on those experiences…) 






[email protected] (TvdB Inspirations) American Wildlife Foundation WWF Zoos animal lovers big cats safari wildlife wildlife foundation Tue, 15 Nov 2016 00:39:39 GMT
Dying for a Tooth - Poaching Kills 1 elephant is killed by poachers every 20 minutes. Every day. For food? No For science? No. For human survival needs No. These mighty creatures on this Earth, living innocently posing zero threat to humankind, are killed for ornamental trinkets and  jewelry. A small carving for your home's entry hall. 1 elephant every 20 minutes is slaughtered for their tusks. (Rhinos as well.) I can't even wrap my head and heart around the shame this sheds on humans. Upon a recent safari I took through Arusha Tanzania, across the Serengeti Desert I had an entirely new relationship with these glorious creatures while learning first-hand from my tracking guides how the poaching is killing Tanzania's economy (losing $25 million a year), how their are brutal anti-poaching groups who entangle in deadly fights with the poachers....yes even human lives are decimated by the China-led push for procure tusks for ivory cosmetic and ornamental markets.

What the Hell? If Ivory could cure cancer, solve hunger, provide clean drinking water there would be some merit to killing one of this Earth's most magnificent and peaceful creatures. The background to the ivory trade:

Sure. We fish. We hunt. We raise animals for stock and survival needs. We farm stone crabs and sever ONE of their claws, leaving the animals alive to grow another. There is some humanity-based efforts shown here. We slaughter millions of chickens to eat our nuggets. One could compare hunting for elk's antlers to mount on your stone hearth to poaching elephants, BUT we gain other survival-based products from hunting game. Poaching is pure evil.

What was interesting about the safari I was on was how many elephants I saw. Fascinating to see so many herds, families, babies roaming across my path, (literally), each and every day. Then, learning these were such a small sample size comparatively to just 10 years ago. Do the math: 1 elephant every 20 minutes is extinguished each day. As well, the elephants in my sight were in a protected area. (One that is requires armed forces to defend from gangs of poachers.)


Walk OnWalk OnElephants are a family.  Elephants are majestic, and are a committed family. Taking care of the younger ones as a small village would.

Save the elephants. A link to look into helping out:


Dreams of DumboDreams of Dumbo



[email protected] (TvdB Inspirations) Tanzania anti-poaching elephants ivory safari wildlife Fri, 04 Nov 2016 16:04:27 GMT
Man's Best Friends Yes, by all checklists: Dogs are indeed, "Man's best friend." They are unconditionally yours. They forgive, they don't lie, they don't cheat, they are THERE for you. A fantastic definition of a true friend. However, this is unfair of a claim as a human's most-evolved needs and skills are not bi-directionally met with a dog. When we can truly find, nurture and connect with another human through a dedicated friendship our dogs remain as trusted and loyal companions, though our interactions with a loyal trusted human companion is so much more rewarding.

Case in point, I spent the recent weekend out in a remote northern California area with 11 true friends of mine from high school. Graduating class of 1982. An amazingly diverse, successful, loyal and scattered group of friends who have never lost touch, though we have lost sight of each other for stretches of years and a couple fellows for decades. The core bonds have been stirred and thinned at times, but never shaken. We gather together for mini-reunions on the average of 2-year points in time to revel in some adolescent energies and recall triumphs and travesties from our youth, while keeping in-tune with the what's going on with our families, kids, spouses, girlfriends, ex-spouses, careers, and yes our dogs and pets too. Drinking, grilling, gambling, hiking, hanging, sharing...Everyone is equal. Trusted. Loyal. Those friends you create during those childhood and teen years I submit are the strongest one could ever find due to all those dynamic changes that go through one's lives in those early years. I have found friends you make through times of struggle, adversity, and joyous "1st-time experiences" become deeply engrained in our core soul, and hearts - and are responsible for producing our own unique characters. Characters that indeed change and evolve - or even become corrupted over the years, but those memories shared never change and be recalled forever between those friends to laugh all over again, cry a little and put into even greater perspectives.

This last weekend I had a choice. A choice to join the crew or stay at home alone, but with my canine companion. A choice that has been difficult for me over certain years of my life due to some struggles with relationships to drinking, (which is now a "dry" one), and being the only one who doesn't partake in the drinking aspect of these reunions with my buddies can cause some awkwardness in some. In fact, I have RSVP'd as a "I can't make it" on several occasions. It can be a head-spinning mess.

Lo and behold....

The truth about the real, core friends in your life is their unconditional acceptance of you. No matter what place or space you may be in. A lot like a dog. (Men CAN be dogs, right?) Ha!

I justly put my "man's best  friend" in a wonderful canine boarder she loves ("doggy day care" every day!) and let her be a dog with her dog friends and I took off to see my buddies. It was a grand time. For my dog, my soul, and my pals.


Boys will be boys. Dogs will be dogs. Let them play.



[email protected] (TvdB Inspirations) Mon, 24 Oct 2016 21:14:56 GMT
ESA part III - adjusting to reality Dogs give love, and want love. Unconditionally. Just as humans do.

Yes, I was now aware that I had a rather hybrid of a situation: A dog now used to going anywhere and everywhere with me, but legally and honorably she was bound to limitations. I had become corrupted morally. Truly. Taking her where she does not belong with an almost arrogant style, because after all this dog was prescribed for me, right? Peanut had zero experience being left alone. I did run a few trial efforts of leaving her in my apartment by herself, setting up my GoPro to film her. Yikes. Watching those videos revealed the disaster she was. Hi-pitched howling, running around the apartment on loop barking her sharp, piercing yelp. My neighbors would text me asking if Peanut was ok....Unworkable, to say the least.

Get an in-house trainer? Move? Reduce my external activities? This was a tough spot. I even caught myself avoiding social and personal business events for the sake of maintaining a quiet and happy dog. I found some pet-sitters to alleviate this, but this left Peanut frozen in her development that, (like me), being alone is OK and that is part of life. Only as I write this does this realization hit me: I was prescribed this dog for my dealing with loneliness, and now I was confronted with working my emotional support animal into accepting her own experience of being alone. What a trip. We can learn so much from helping others learn.

Admittedly, I was still pushing the outside world boundaries with Peanut. In fact, at times when I would hit my routine grocery or coffee trip without her, the workers would all be clamoring over me asking "where is Peanut?" (Indeed, she had become a local "star attraction"....) I was in a space of morally adjusting the rules to fit my own selfish needs. This is NOT integrity by definition. Smile and wave and pretend everything is OK. Right?

I began dating a very special woman, who happened to be quite the expert on canines. She ran a business fostering, rescuing, adopting dogs. Over 600 canines she had helped place in homes!! One of her specialty successes was changing the public's perception of Pit Bulls, even turning discarded bully breeds into support and service animals. Over the months I absorbed and learned first hand a great deal about breeds, training, shelters, breeders, fostering, and a crash course/reminder that MY dog was NOT a service animal. Peanut at my hip. On dates in southern California. Cute at first. Then binding and constricting. The woman I was dating become quite direct with me helping me frame a new approach and drew new boundaries on my integrity-bending behavior, and tips and directives to transform Peanut into a "regular" dog. There were some very tense discussions. She would not date a man with the character that abused the ADA rules. I had to "get it." MY dog deserves to be treated like a DOG. Not like the winner of Wonka's golden ticket, carte blanching it around the world. Changes HAD to be made, or this new romance of mine was at risk, as well as my own peace-of-mind which could only be restored by playing by the rules. That was my character to regain.

A major breakthrough was soon appearing. This apartment lease was up for renewal, my kids now staying with me more frequently, it became clear a house would be more comfortable for us all, and a private backyard for Peanut to enjoy having to learn to "be a dog." (No dog should live in an apartment, my opinion stated here.) A few months of searching and we found one. Coincidingly, I shared the boundaries and legal terms of a support vs. service animal with my kids to get us all on the same team. Time for Peanut to become a dog. Today, we live in a way where she stays at home, alone, watches for squirrels, sleeps, barks some, and is beyond excited to see us when we return. She still gets to travel with me, but not to stores, theaters, hotels, rather to visit my girlfriend and her dogs.

Peanut still provides emotional support, (to me and others), because THAT's WHAT DOGS DO by their nature. Unconditional love. There is no "tag" or licenses or certifications that could ever allow or disallow what dogs truly OWN inside them: To show love. Lessons learned. Thanks Peanut.

[email protected] (TvdB Inspirations) ADA Divorce ESA Maltipoo puppies service animals service dogs unconditional love Sat, 15 Oct 2016 14:33:37 GMT
ESA dog tags = free to roam the country?? (ESA part II) ESA dog tags = free pass everywhere, (I thought)…

Securing Peanut’s status as an officially prescribed and registered dog allowed me to keep her with me in my apartment. No need to move elsewhere. A huge sigh of relief, indeed. She was bound to me like I was her mother, which nearly every living aspect I was. I enjoyed bring for her, training hear to the best of my limited ability and skill, though soon realizing she needed some official puppy training. She was never left alone, traveled with me everywhere - including public markets, eating establishments, stores, etc. while some are “pet friendly” with most requiring your out to be a service animal. Right. Peanut WAS a service animal I had convinced myself. (Still not bothering to read the LAW on support vs. service animals, I was acting the role of assumptive, lazy American. I admit it.) I was full on ignorant.

You can call me "Iggy" for short.


The manners of acceptance Peanut and I got were incredibly vast and eye-opening. Some store owners/employees so "ESA" on her leash and simply smiled.

Others asked me if she was a service animal. I replied "yes." I took her to banks, restaurants, hotels, National Parks, State Parks, etc. I trained her best I could/knew how to be comfortable in all these dynamic situations. Thankfully she was small, cute-as-any-puppy, and friendly and almost timid in her demeanor, though perceived as sweet and approachable. All good!

We established some common faces, places and routines. Several advantages included not leaving a whining/barking puppy locked up in an apartment estranging my neighbors, having that little social/dependent one with me everywhere I went. I mean everywhere! Life was good. Disadvantages included my growing, assumptive, nearly indignant ignorance and her becoming completely bound to my presence. She was literally tied to my heel, hip, head and heart.


Upon booking a road trip down the southern coast of California, I encountered my first "WTF?" slap on my ignorant and indignant face. One hotel refused my reservation after an email exchange between the hotel

Manager and me revealed that their establishment only accepted certified SERVICE animals and through the email questionnaire this guy sent me it became clear that Peanut was truly a SUPPORT animal - (and one in training and that!) 

I am now grateful for this guy cluing me in on the ADA requirements of a service animal and the subsequent distinctions between them and support and assistance-providing animals. I was shamed and stunned. How my presumptive and impulsive actions reeked of an ass! I was THAt guy I hate seeing breaking rules, cutting line, bringing his dog to kids' soccer games, parking poorly with disregard others.

Wow. The living disservice I was for all those that depended their wellness on certified service animals.

Read the instructions, Tim. Read.


This began an entirely new learning curve for me, but at first I lived in regret and shame. Almost afraid to learn everything there was for fear of more self-degradation or even losing my dog. You see, she was still saving the prescribed purpose of an emotional support animal to me, but that support I really didn’t need when I was out in the world being the social cat that I have always been. (Pun intended.) 


Soon, new experiences, a very special new person in my life, and some major revelations helped settle into an honorable life with Peanut. 

[email protected] (TvdB Inspirations) ADA ESA dogs humankindness pets service animals support dogs Thu, 13 Oct 2016 22:31:43 GMT
“No Dogs Allowed” - A Crash Course in Service Animals, Part 1 “No Dogs Allowed” - A Crash Course in Service Animals, Part 1

Peanut the Maltipoo and I were enjoying our new life together, sharing this apartment of mine.  I signed her up for training, we attended “Puppy Socials” which she became quite the star, exhibiting her sweet nature and showed ease-of-interaction with all sorts of other canines. In the apartment, she displayed nothing but puppy fun, chewing everything, peeing wherever. Yes, she was a pleasure and a pain!

As I was currently on a hiatus from working, she enjoyed (and became way dependent) on my constant companionship. Only being in this apartment-style living for a few months, I was still adjusting to living on a 2nd floor with no front or backyard. Just a small balcony as my outside territory. Thus, daily walks were vital to my and Peanut’s well-being. One day I passed a neighbor who asked me straight out: “How did you get approval from the landlord to have a dog?” My answer was more of a panicked, “Uh….I didn’t. I thought pets were OK!?”

“Cats only. No dogs allowed.”, was his retort. Yikes. “Unless,” he continued,” the dog is a service animal.” (“Service animal?”, I thought, “Like a guide dog for the blind?” wondered my ignorance.)

The walls crashed down around me. I either have to move (again) or get rid of my precious pup?

That afternoon while expressing my situation to some folks at the coffee shop who were petting Peanut, a woman told me flat out: “It’s easy to get the ESA tags, etc. Just Google ESA for dogs.” I was instantly led into the world of registering my animal as a service animal, I thought. Not then knowing ANYthing about rules, regulations, and the honor and respect for service vs. support animals under the terms of the ADA. (I wish I was first instructed to go here:

Alas, Google pops up as #1 search find a website with offers to quickly and easy get your dog registered. I clicked away without reading much, as I was panicked still about losing my living space or my dog, and purchased the Emotion SUPPORT Animal package. After all, Peanut was indeed serving as an emotional support animal for me, just as my therapist prescribed. (See previous blog, “Get a Puppy…”) Not seeing much reason to read on about “support” vs. “service”, regulations, etc. I got my credit card out and ordered the kit for Peanut. Uploaded a picture of her and finished the process in minutes. Wow! Problem solved, right?


Days later, the ESA kit arrived. ESA tags, ESA leash, ESA vest. Sweet. I’m ready to visit my landlord. That visit was rather abrupt, as my landlord, (who adored meeting Peanut as most people do), and was a very sweet elderly woman, quickly told me upon looking at Peanut’s ESA register papers: “Tim, I need a doctor’s note prescribing a service animal for you. Not these tags, etc. because anyone get buy these on the internet without due merit.” I shrunk. I felt shame. Panicked again. But wait! I was prescribed a puppy, right? Back to my therapist for a “doctor’s note.” 


“I can’t write such a note, Tim, as I am a psychologist not an M.D.”, came the reply from my therapist. Damn. Walls crashing down again. Cut to the chase, I had to wind up seeing my regular physician, explain my divorce, emotional unrest, anxiety, my sleep problems, etc. that led me to get a puppy. He gladly wrote out a note for my landlord. Sweet. (My Lord, the POWER of an M.D. is huge in so many ways.) So I succeeded in backtracking my way into securing Peanut in my apartment with my landlord’s approval. There was ignorance, assumptive/selfish moves on my part, blindly following the ignorance of others, learning JUST THE BEGINNING of the value and importance of the service animal world.


There was so much more to learn. I made many more assumptions and mistakes over the next few months, of which I will share in coming blogs.



[email protected] (TvdB Inspirations) ADA ESA puppies service animals service dogs Sat, 08 Oct 2016 14:38:02 GMT
Prescription said: "Get a Puppy" Who Saved Who?

“Get a puppy.”, was the prescription. Not by a doctor, but my therapist. The therapist I was seeing to work through my post-divorce emotional struggle. My biggest issue being removed from a 20-year life as a hands-on father of 3, care-giving my #1 purpose in life. To my 3 children, my 2 King Charles Cavaliers, the countless number of youth sports teams I coached, the community I was dedicated to as a volunteer, my 5-bedroom home. All of which were sideswiped from my life quite suddenly, like a rug pulled from under my feet. (Details on all that could make its own soap-opera, or a self-help book that is in-the-works…..)

Sleeplessness. Mind-spinning. Sadness. Confusion. The roughest, most challenging days and nights of my life. “Get a puppy.” Right. I’m a grown man! Men don’t get puppies, and big boys don’t cry, right??? Riiiiiight. 

Indeed, being 51-years old and suddenly living in an apartment by myself without kids and pets, and neighbors, away from the kids’ schools. The daily smiles and waves of community folk and friends. My entire life I’ve either lived with parents, siblings, roommates, a spouse and and/or kids.  The silence. The emptiness. The loneliness was all too new and literal. “Get a puppy!!??”, I thought to myself, “is THAT the professional guidance I was paying $250/hour for?!”

But I jumped at it. Alas, she came into my life.  She was a Maltese-poodle mix, aka a Maltipoo. Within hours, I was returned to my familiar role of care-giving. She was 8-weeks old and like every single puppy in this world, she was the cutest. I was joined by my then 10-year old daughter for the morning to go pick the puppy up from an elderly woman in a nearby neighborhood. We named her “Peanut.” That experience in itself, having my daughter join me, was a memory to last a lifetime. 

Peanut presented immediate challenges and needs, yet my goodness was there a sweeter, funnier, cuter creature in this world? Certainly not in my new world. Now, obtaining said puppy was its own eye-opening experience as I have experienced both ends of the dog acquiring process: I've bought lab puppies for $25 from Mrs. Johnson around the corner, paid $2,000 for Tommy the King Charles and all his papers, rescued a greyhound, Ian, for $75, paid $600 for Charlie the King Charles from a Vet, taken over care of Nigel the Fox Hound for free, and so on. This one evening, I Googled "puppies for sale" and encountered this new world of "official" (official b.s. it turns out) online breeders. Qualification forms to fill out like I was applying for a home loan, fake stamps of certification on these web sites making potential customers think they were dealing with an integral operation. All b.s. Disgusting. (I have come since to learn about the "puppy-mill" scams, the overpriced, the mistreated, the abused animals in these operations revealing the sour and bitter sides of humanity all to make a buck on the ignorance of other humans and abusing these innocent canines. More on this in later blogs.) Frustrated and feeling disrespected by the online breeder/adoption sites, I went to Craigslist and eBay and found this particular photo of a Maltipoo. It was love at first sight, as I immediately called the phone # and confirmed that this photo was indeed of THE puppy that was available. No forms required. Just a meet and greet setup the following morning. Off I went and found her. 

At 8 weeks, with almond-colored ears, she was just as the she appeared in the picture. My daughter was in love immediately and suggested we call her "Peanut." She was ours swiftly. The exchange was sincere and a bit emotional for the woman as I gave her some contact info, cash, and promises to take great care of Peanut and send her updates. The process was similar to the good-old fashioned "but lab puppies for $75 from Mrs. Johnson around the corner." Indeed there was a true "feel-good" aspect compared to the online breeder, form-filling b.s.

"Get a puppy." It was transformational for me. Immediately there was a little creature needing me for everything. My lonely apartment turned into an energized and dynamic playground, as well as a safe-haven for puppy slumber. My head-spinning loneliness was instantly fixed! I was now occupied with my little puppy-partner's needs, playfulness, curiosities, accidents, destruction, and undeniable LOVE and reliance on me.

So, Peanut was my medicine. My cure. Just as the doctor ordered, she alleviated my pain. Brought laughter and smiles. Required care. It was a mutually-beneficial relationship from day 1 which continues to this day, 18 months later. She has traveled with me up and down the Western U.S., seen Yosemite, Crater Lake, San Francisco, San Diego, Santa Cruz, Pismo Beach, (she LOVES the sand and ocean), and overall is one smart, social, and friendly dog. Unconditional love and support going both ways. There have been some less-than-jolly life-altering and disruptive challenges and lessons learned with her in my life, including the expose' on service animal ignorance and laws, and the soon-to-be shared problem with my landlord's "cats OK, no dogs" rule. "Get her registered as an ESA and your landlord has to accept her.", I was told by a stranger at the coffee shop. "Go online and order the ESA kit. Its easy. Anyone can do it." Off I went to secure my puppy and my tenancy. Wow. What unfolds when we operate on tips and the internet! Next blog on THAT mess...

[email protected] (TvdB Inspirations) Cavalier Spaniels Divorce ESA Maltipoo Puppies self-love service animals therapy dogs unconditional love Sat, 08 Oct 2016 00:07:06 GMT
Divorce is dark, but there is light Divorce sucks. Divorce is dark. Divorce is expensive, as it takes it toll on self, children, finances, social standing.

Yet, divorce is also a necessary threshold to cross. 

Children no longer hear arguing, as they now hear the silence of contentment and security. They now get the chance to experience their parents as adults recognizing what true, real, and unconditional love can look like. This is so important for them. Yes, the inflated vision they had of family and their future is punctured, yet they are still surrounded my loving parents experiencing their own newfound joy and freedom to live their own fulfilling lives. As Sigmund Freud once stated, (paraphrasing here), the greatest damage a parent can do to their child is to live and unfulfilled life. Thus, the door opening of divorce, can allow this fulfillment.

A man learns to take care of himself, as well as his children and community. Eating alone 3 1/2 nights a week, after years of cooking meals for 5. A man learns he is now estranged and even exiled from his longtime community and social events. "Wait. Am I the 'bad guy' now? What did I do to THEM?", he wonders. Realizing that is THEIR issue, and not mine. Walk on. Look ahead.

Self love grows out of holes and voids once left unattended, or filled with poisons of martyrdom, selfishness, or demons of demise.

Respect for an ex that lives and parents responsibly. Gratitude for those friends and family members that offer their support. Everything is new. Everything.

Walk on. Look ahead.

Children see their dad find a new true love. Fairy tale love. Light through the darkness. Suit up and show up. Walk OVER those crashing waves. The world is what you want it to be. As SHE taught me: Its never too late to live happily ever after. Walking on WaterWalking on Water

Walk on. Look ahead. See the light.





[email protected] (TvdB Inspirations) Divorce Self-love Surfing Waves Sat, 17 Sep 2016 00:34:29 GMT
A Bridge to Cross IMG_0066IMG_0066

]]> [email protected] (TvdB Inspirations) Fri, 05 Sep 2014 07:35:45 GMT