I recently went to Cape Town, South Africa to visit my mother, and we drove a portion of what is known as the Garden Route, a series of scenic drives that lead east from Cape Town. Driving through these landscapes was a psychadelic experience for me.

Okay, Paris is great. We get it. But I have a question for you:

If we go to Paris on vacation, where do people from Paris go?

I am in Paris. Please forgive me as I try to put into words how I feel about this place, to which I keep returning.

I lived in LA for 15 years, and I miss nothing in LA more than my people there. Other than the people, however, the thing I miss most about LA is the Mexican food.

I’m back in New York City, if only briefly, in order to see Kazem conduct a concert here at Lincoln Center. The concert includes Brahms, Stravinsky, and a piece by 20th-century Native American composer Louis W. Ballard titled “Incident at Wounded Knee.”

I was in Washington DC for July 4, so on July 5 I did what any proud American citizen would do. I went to the Library of Congress.

This arctic cruise has been an unforgettable experience, full of adventure and wonder. In the interest of brevity, let me attempt to list some of the things I have learned.

This week we took the train from Milan to Modena just to have dinner at Osteria Francescana. This has been hailed by some as the best restaurant in the world.

I have been to many extraordinary places in the world. But none of these places, for me, compare to the Huckleberry Explorers Club Museum and General Store and Gardens in Detroit.

Last weekend I was in Chicago to celebrate a different sort of world tour. My grandmother is going to be 100 years old in June.

Sometimes I imagine what it would be like to feel no impulse to share with others my experience. What if I could just live my life, and my own experience of life would be enough for me?