This is Highway 26 which leads straight out to the coast. We had snow flurries near Portland the day before, and obviously the mountains got a lot more. There were long stretches of fog too (as you can see on the left).

Haystack Rock surrounded by smaller formations known as The Needles. They were created by lava flows almost 15 million years ago. (Yes, this puts everything in perspective.)

No crowds (hooray!) meant that I easily got this panoramic shot of the wide open beach.

This was the breathtaking view to the south.

Another shot of the rocks, this time in silhouette.

My head framed by the Haystack as high tide was rolling in. (And in case you’re wondering, it was a crisp 45 degrees with a faint breeze.)

A misty view to the north and striped pattern on the sand.

From Cannon Beach, we drove about eight miles up the coast to the town of Seaside. It’s the place on the Pacific Ocean where the Lewis and Clark Expedition ended.

The ocean at Seaside around 4pm. (The sun set forty minutes later.)

This was a street-level billboard on the side of a building. It basically sums up my first impression of Seaside. Perhaps it’s a lovely place to visit during the summer but in the off-season, it felt sad.

Back in the car heading home, I snapped this blurry photo of a roadside espresso hut. Cute pit stop for a caffeine fix.

Did I mention the fog?

And then after a few minutes, it seemed to dissipate into a picturesque winter wonderland and a clear path forward…

Let’s start at the very beginning of our journey to Portland. Here’s a shot of Prairie, Indiana. (They don’t call it “flyover country” for nuthin.’ I was en route to Oregon for the big job interview.) The first thing that crossed my mind was, “Gee, this pattern looks a lot like rectilinear camo…” (Isn’t that what you immediately thought of too??)

To prove my point, here’s a detail of my J.Crew camo t-shirt.

Another aerial view from the plane: a manicured golf course in Itasca, Illinois.

And I believe this is Mount Hood. (See? We’re getting closer.)

A good omen: while moving out of our townhouse in Virginia, I found all these random quarters. How cool that Mount Hood turned up!

The end of October was a crazy stretch. Luckily, our house sold in less than three days. What helped? De-cluttering, cleaning, and taking kick-ass photographs.

In mid-November, we bought a house in Oregon. It will be ready in Spring 2016. Andrew and I are already reciting this giddy chant: “No shared walls!”

Ah yes, Portlanders and their food. Seems like everyone is a passionate foodie with a discerning palate. One morning during our house-hunting trip, we went to brunch at Tasty n Alder. Their lemon ricotta pancakes with apple butter and bim bop bacon & eggs will change your life. I’m a convert.

I’ve determined that every photo of a hipster foodie establishment warrants the Inkwell filter. This is Beast, an intimate restaurant offering communal tables, a six-course menu, and mandatory bearded waiters.

This is Kukai Ramen & Izakaya. Even though it’s located far from Portland’s hipster neighborhoods, it’s more importantly a stone’s throw from our corporate apartment. It deserves the prestigious black-and-white filter because we’ve eaten here many times and their ramen is damn good.

Continuing our food theme, this is one of the famous food carts on SW Alder Street. (Alas, it was closed when I stopped by so my Korean-Mexican craving will have to wait.)

Motivation to hit the gym: their Portland Cream doughnut was as big as a football! (Yeah, yeah, Blue Star Donuts is on our list too.)

Around town: rich fall colors in the vibrant Pearl District. An Uber driver told me, “The rain keeps everything green and clean.” Word.

Street mural: trances with wolves.

Back to nature: peaceful skies at twilight over Bethany, Oregon, one of several areas we visited for house-hunting.

I kid you not that it rained for seventeen straight days in December. (I barely kept my sanity, people.) This peek-a-blue moment was a rare respite.

Because we Portlanders need more than food and nature to nourish our vitamin-D-deficient souls, we recently checked out the Portland Art Museum for a culture fix. What I liked most was being exposed to contemporary artists I had never heard of before. Here’s a stunning 3-D painting/sculpture called “Translation #2” by Portland artist Dirk Staschke. (I bet he’s vegan.)

The starkly powerful “To Be Pueblo II” by artist Rose B. Simpson.

A visual feast: the “Paradise” exhibition by the artist collective known as Fallen Fruit. It explores “how Oregon [in the 1850s] was promoted as a vision of ‘paradise,’ ripe with possibility and a symbol of Westward Expansion and Manifest Destiny.” The artists use “fruit to examine concepts of place, history,…and public space.”

The custom-designed, fruit-themed wallpaper for the installation.

What was even more vivid than that modern wallpaper? This gorgeous 19th-century tile from Iran!

Turning to sports, I haven’t followed the Blazers since the days of Clyde Drexler and Rasheed Wallace. Still, it was exciting to catch a game at the Moda Center.

In case you missed it, Oregon legalized recreational marijuana this year. You can light up at home, grow up to four plants, and concoct edibles. Woohoo! (But soon, the state will start charging a double-digit sales tax.) To celebrate cannabis, here’s the perfect holiday card.

Since our temporary rental didn’t inspire us to deck our halls and put up a Christmas tree, this is my version of red and green lights hanging on a bough.

In addition to a hundred different words for “rain,” I assume Oregonians have at least as many to describe “moss” and “lichen.” My local vocabulary is still limited so here’s an example of fluffy, layered moss tinged with yellow.

And here’s some lichen that’s scaly, lacy, and seafoam green.

What’s amazing is how the varied textures and colors make the trees look eerie and enchanted.

Parting shot: I took this photo on the grounds of Jenkins Estate, a public park near our new home in Beaverton. Heading into 2016, my goal is to see the forest for the trees. Always.

Bowled over: home accessories by British designer Tom Dixon on sale at De Bijenkorf department store. If only I had more room in my suitcase…

Snazzy feet: fierce and fabulous shoes by Sophia Webster in the window display.

The Frozen Fountain: I had read so many rave reviews about this contemporary furniture, fabric, decor, and art shop located on the Prinsengracht. It was a Dutch Design wonderland!

Green with envy: how killer is this wallpaper? And those chairs??

Dippity hue: I was beyond tempted to snag some of these neon-dipped wire baskets.

Pastel perfection: these gorgeous ceramics were like sugary confections.

Touchable texture: an ornate detail on the door of a mansion along the Prinsengracht.

Cuties on duty: quirky statues hanging out above the De Spiegel cafe on the Lijnbaansgracht.

Artful welcome: lovely front stoop along the Keizersgracht. I adore the effortless combo of blue, pink, orange, and gray.

Kids’ corner: love the hanging shoes!

Just plain pretty: sometimes flowers and a white bench are all you need.

Canta believe it: an example of the practical side of Dutch Design. This is the Canta LX, a micro-car made in the Netherlands and designed for disabled drivers. Measuring only 1.1 meters across, it can be used on bike paths and sidewalks. And no driver’s license is required (yikes!).

Love in the air: an upside-down heart is our final, fleeting image of Amsterdam.

Gah! This was the first time I laid eyes on the Herengracht canal near our hotel. In the 17th century, the wealthiest merchants and most influential mayors lived here.

Warped reality: chillin’ along the Herengracht on a dreamy day. (Pro tip: click on each photo in this post to enlarge, especially this one.)

Suspension of belief: my smile is saying, “Holy crap! We’re actually in Amsterdam!” (Did I mention the bikes?)

Quintessential Amsterdam: this image perfectly captures the vibe of “De Negen Straatjes” (The Nine Streets), a shopping area filled with art galleries, cafes, designer shops, etc. You’ve got hipsters, a man-bun, flower boxes, graffiti, and a bike.

Living the dream: charming houseboat parked near green foliage and orderly façades.

All is calm on the waterfront: view of the majestic Prinsengracht (Prince’s Canal). Btw, get used to these classic perspective shots cuz they’re right up Amsterdam’s alley.

Cultural touchstone: the gorgeous Rijksmuseum designed by Pierre Cuypers in 1885.

Pride of place: a security guard wearing his heart on his sleeve.

Ethereal fantasy: the “Shylights” installation, a mesmerizing mechanical ballet of silk flowers. Watch the Hyperlapse video below to get the full effect.

Honoring an innovator: the blockbuster “Late Rembrandt” exhibition showed that the Dutch master remained an inventive genius during what had previously been considered the waning years of his career.

This is colossal: massive crowds in front of “The Night Watch.” Rembrandt was the first artist to paint figures in a group portrait (in this case, a militia company) actually doing something versus being posed and static.

Small and sublime: “The Milkmaid” by Johannes Vermeer. This photo doesn’t come close to conveying its vibrant glow and vivid colors.

Exquisite composition: “Festoon of Fruit and Flowers” by Jan Davidsz de Heem. Out of all the Flemish still-lifes on display, this one caught my eye. The tradition lives on to this day in works by American photographer Sharon Core. (See my Pinterest link below.)

Slow burn: a dramatic sunset at 10 pm on the Prinsengracht.

Gilding the Herengracht: our canal cruise passed through the “Gouden Bocht” (Golden Bend), the most prestigious section of the canal boasting double-wide mansions and deep lots. (Life was good for the one-percenters during the Dutch Golden Age.) The YouTube video below is a Hyperlapse of houseboats earlier in the tour.

Leisure land: spectacular day at Vondelpark, Amsterdam’s version of Central Park where the lucky locals walk their dogs, run, bike, picnic, play, kiss, and more.

Naming rights: the park was originally named “Het Nieuwe Park” (the New Park) but once this statue of Joost van den Vondel, a prominent 17th century poet and playwright, was built in 1867, everyone started calling it, well, you know.

Outfit of the day: t-shirt and cardigan by J.Crew, AG Stilt jeans, Kate Spade crossbody bag, Nixon watch, and Nike Internationalist sneakers.

A soul singer pops up: hey, it’s Joss Stone! She was being interviewed before a concert at the Vondelpark Pavilion.

Scenic send-off: parting shot and parting thought.

Airy stairs: what you see coming up from the lower train platforms. The first thing I noticed was how the people on the down escalator were color-coordinated with the banners. Then I noticed the enormous vaulted iron-and-glass roof.

Going for Baroque: close-up of the exquisite clock in the neo-Baroque entrance hall.

Hello, Hermès? I literally bent over backwards trying to get a good angle for this shot. It’s a view of the stunning domed ceiling in the entrance hall. Wouldn’t it make an amazing print for a square silk scarf?

A modern statement: the hotel is made up of three 17th century white, gabled townhouses and filled with funky yet elegant decor. I love the lobby’s rustic ceiling beams, grand chandelier, and sleek blue sofa.

Surreal sitting area: I remember thinking to myself, “Is this really my life right now? I’m seated on a velvet settee in this quirky gem of a hotel in freakin’ Antwerp, waiting for Andrew, looking at my iPhone while ‘Cell Block Tango’ from the musical ‘Chicago’ is blasting through the speakers.” Pinch me.

How civilized: lovely breakfast served every morning by an equally lovely staff.

Pink dream: the hotel has only ten rooms, each with its own distinctive style. We stayed in Number 14 where Andrew was secure enough in his manhood to appreciate the decidedly feminine finishes. (He chalked it up to fanciful European flair.)

Crystal crown: the rain showerhead in our bathroom encircled by a glass chandelier. The cascading gold tiles evoked a Gustav Klimt painting.

Boxy beacon on the Scheldt river: an unusual museum for an unconventional city.

Frozen in time: picturesque panorama at dusk of the 16th-century city hall built in the Flemish Renaissance style.

As night falls: guild houses with their iconic gabled roofs and statues. The original structures burned down in 1576 and were later rebuilt.

Nocturnal splendor: city hall and Brabo fountain.

Gastronomic triumvirate: mussels, fries, and beer at the Grand Café De Rooden Hoed (Red Hat) near the Grote Markt. #AuthenticallyBelgium

The stately, symmetrical courtyard: a peaceful place for fresh air. Each room in the residence oozes wealth from a bygone era like sumptuous tapestries, rare manuscripts, and gilded leather walls.

Portrait in the courtyard: smiling amid soft light.

Humble piece of revolutionary technology: one of the two oldest surviving printing presses in the world. These machines from the 1600s are one reason why the museum was designated a UNESCO World Heritage site.

Rolling out the floral carpet: welcome to Dries Van Noten’s world of wonder.

Skinny mini: I think my AG Stilt jeans are actually helping me out here. #BetterThanSpanx

The butterfly effect: Damien Hirst’s giant artwork and Schiaparelli’s 1937 silk printed evening gown. Van Noten translated this theme of “capturing beauty” and “transformation” into the idea of “boys becoming men.” The result was a collection of colorful, sporty menswear.

Guitar god: with a cool quotient that’s off the charts, Jimi Hendrix is an obvious inspiration. He’s paired with the textile collection from Les Arts Décoratifs in Paris. I loved seeing these connections from the designer’s mind.

Maximum mix-and-match: 93-year-old style icon Iris Apfel, who loves piling on chunky jewelry and funky prints, inspired the oversized bangle-bracelet necklaces in Van Noten’s spring 2008 collection. (You’d need some strong neck muscles and wrists to wear those contraptions, though.)

Dainty duo: an embroidered organza Dior afternoon dress from 1952 and a Cy Twombly painting. This dress is EVERYTHING. #swoon

Boxed into a corner (or maybe a trapezoid?): I’m awkwardly posing for a photo at Andrew’s insistence. (He’s lucky he’s cute.)

Tall and tasteful: these lithe and effortlessly chic creatures glide through Antwerp, oblivious to how much they up the street fashion game.

Dress to impress: all three looks in this storefront display were screaming my name (especially the middle one). Alas, I ignored their sartorial siren song. #HeadOverHeart #Regrets

Close but no cigar: do you see how close I was to buying a delicious Delvaux bag? But I didn’t pull the trigger in Brussels or in Antwerp, despite this friendly saleslady. After arriving back in the States, I found out that Barneys is their only U.S. retailer, and the purses sell for almost double (e.g. $2,800 vs. €1,200). Next time. There will definitely be a next time…

Looming large: the 14th century belfry in the center of town. (This photo feels a bit Hitchcockian to me, like I’m oblivious to the sinister storm clouds gathering.)

Soaring heights: Saint Bavo Cathedral where the Ghent Altarpiece is housed in the chapel—and where you feel very, very small.

The world’s masterpiece from 1432: it looked pretty darn good, given its harrowing history. I won’t even try to describe the realistic details, vibrant colors, or Catholic mysticism depicted. (Btw, in case you were wondering, Hubert and Jan van Eyck didn’t run out of pigments while working on Adam and Eve; the black and white images are placeholders for the panels undergoing restoration.)

Heavenly sky: Saint Nicholas Cathedral with Andrew in the bottom left-hand corner. (Notice how his green Nano Puff jacket blends right in with the color scheme.)

Peaceful alley near Pakhuis restaurant: I liked how the red, green, and blue in this composition sort of echo the hues in the Altarpiece painting.

Four dudes under white nudes: Andrew chatting up strangers. This quirky photo makes me smile.

New meets old: fresh graffiti in the foreground with the Ghent train station’s century-old clock tower in the back. Nothing stands still.

Panoramic shot of the Markt (“Market Square”), a UNESCO World Heritage site with the 13th century bell tower on the left.

Selective slice: here’s my Instagram of a cropped portion of the panorama above. It looks like a snow globe with figurines.

Darkness and light: ominous clouds over the sunbathed Provincial Court on the Markt. The contrast shows off the building’s architectural details.

For whom the bell tolls: the medieval belfry and Bruges landmark. I liked the little pocket of blue sky that opened up right on time.

Courtyard in the belfry complex: the light installations say Mind, Wealth, Belief, and Life (not pictured). They should add Love, Peace, and Happiness—and Chocolate.

Ta-da! Presenting a Wealth…of opportunities? experiences? Delvaux bags?

Capturing Andrew: we breathlessly climbed the 366 narrow, creaky, claustrophobic spiral stairs to the top of the tower. Andrew hates having his picture taken so this was the best I could do.

Steep, crisp lines: high above Bruges with the Church of Our Lady rising on the right.

From a different angle: Burg Square and Town Hall. And I think that’s a glimpse of the North Sea on the horizon.

Red accents and gray roofs.

Slipping through the canal: oh you know, just your typical, postcard-perfect kind of day in Bruges.

Cosmopolitan capital: I bet this is what you think of when someone mentions Brussels. Yes, it’s considered the capital of the European Union, but there’s a whole lot more to see than bland government buildings.

Orange lines: I liked the geometric detailing on the façade of the Théâtre Résidence-Palace, part of an EU-related building complex near our hotel.

Gray and red at the Grand Place: Majestic, right? This is the main market square in Brussels. It’s a UNESCO World Heritage site whose historic City Hall and guild houses date back to the 14th century.

Milling around the market: one of the elegant guild houses on the square. I liked how the pedestrians seem frozen in time.

Butter up: Maison Dandoy is a lovely Belgian cookie shop founded in 1829. It’s located on the Rue au Beurre (literally Butter Street). You can gain 5 pounds just walking in.

Naming rights and delicious bites: I’d read about this place before we left and insisted we eat lunch here as an homage to Andrew’s last name. (Plus, Andrew’s a ham and they serve Silly Beer!)

On the menu: fresh and unforgettable food. (Portobello mushroom waffles, anyone?)

No mall chicks allowed: the ornate Galeries Royales Saint-Hubert is the oldest shopping mall in the world, built in the mid-1800s. It’s all very civilized.

Drooling over Delvaux: this Belgian brand is the oldest luxury leather goods manufacturer in the world (you thought it was Hermès, right?). That yellow “Le Pin Allure” shoulder bag tormented me with its €1,200 price tag. Did I give in? All will be revealed in a future post.

Fancy fox on the box: another shop in the Galeries was Pierre Marcolini, a high-end chocolatier. They did a limited edition collection of macarons with French fashion label Maison Kitsuné. I loved the whimsical branding (“kitsune” is the Japanese word for “fox”).

Little blue people: did you know that Brussels boasts the world’s only Smurf store? It’s part of the MOOF (Museum Of Original Figurines). The Smurfs (“Les Schtroumpfs”) were created in 1958 by Belgian cartoonist Pierre Culliford, a.k.a. Peyo. (Yes, there are about four ridiculous-sounding words in this caption.)

Headless blue angel: I spotted this bit of graffiti at a construction site. The photo is a tad blurry but it’s a good and gritty contrast to the saccharin Smurfs.

Daily delight: imagine having bouquets like these brightening up your neighborhood sidewalk everyday.

Leisurely pursuits: the 74-acre Parc du Cinquantenaire was commissioned for the 1880 National Exhibition commemorating the fiftieth anniversary of Belgian independence. I liked the feminine flower beds set against the imposing archways.

Spring fling: yours truly laughing in front of pastel landscaping. (Btw, how great is my Kate Spade cross-body bag? It saved me from having to wear a frumpy “money belt” à la Rick Steves.)

Wicked whips: Autoworld is a vintage car museum located on park grounds. It was more like a vast showroom with hundreds of vehicles on display. I’m no gear-head but thoroughly enjoyed it. C’mon, everyone loves sexy cars.

I woke up in an old Bugatti! (thank you, Ace Hood): the Type 44 from 1927.

The “Brown Bugatti” that’s in fact blue: in 1952, French sculptor Jacques Brown built aerodynamic fiberglass bodywork around a 1930s-vintage Type 57 chassis.

Hipster heritage: motorbike from Belgian company FN (Fabrique Nationale de Herstal). I was half expecting a skinny tattooed dude with a beard and man-bun to skulk into my shot.

Serene side streets: I loved the picturesque buildings and architecture near our hotel on the Place Jourdan.

Teal appeal: the accent trim color on this house caught my eye and complements its pink-painted neighbor.

Back in January, Andrew and I spent a long weekend in NYC. The theme? Art, art and more art. We went to the blockbuster (and breathtakingly crowded) Matisse Cut-Outs exhibition at MoMA where Andrew furtively snapped this photo. Overall, it was a true visual feast of color and creativity.

In a quieter section of the museum, we walked through this small exhibition examining music and design—”art forms that share aesthetics of rhythm, tonality, harmony, interaction, and improvisation.”

Iconic posters in riotous colors.

In between museum-hopping, we dropped by the flagship Cartier store on Fifth Avenue so I could make my first big jewelry purchase as a grown-up. It’s the classic Trinity ring that I’ve been coveting for awhile. I like its understated luxury that doesn’t scream “bling!”

Neither of us had ever visited the Museum of the City of New York, a small gem located way up Fifth at 103rd Street. This dazzling and delicate installation called “Starlight” hangs above the main rotunda.

This is the non-Instagram-filtered version My secret’s out.

The main draw (pun intended) for hauling our butts to the MCNY near Harlem? The Mac Conner show. Billed as one of the original “Mad Men,” Mr. Conner (who’s still alive and kicking at 102 years old) is an illustrator who worked on Madison Avenue ad campaigns from the 1940s through ’60s. His style is Norman Rockwell with a little Roy Lichtenstein thrown in. I thoroughly enjoyed it.

Snapping my reflection in the galleries. (Outfit details: Nike Internationlist kicks, Patagonia’s Better Sweater Coat, AG Stilt Jeans, Dover Street Market nylon tote.)

Taking a break from taking it all in.

I applied a black-and-white filter on this image of the cafe area. The negative photo effect on the skyscrapers render them like the human genome—the way New York City seeps into your DNA.

We walked down Fifth towards the recently renovated and reopened Cooper Hewitt Design Museum. I’m standing at the center of a cool installation called “Controller of the Universe” by Damián Ortega. It’s an explosion of suspended hand tools.

You walk single-file through the installation under the surly gaze of a nervous security guard. (No backpacks allowed.)

This was from a vignette that depicted the life of Peter Cooper’s daughters. I love that rich wallpaper.

A chandelier sculpture (and engineering feat) made from shards of dinnerware and utensils. I like the juxtaposition of the modern piece against the ornate century-old woodwork.

Our one splurge-y dinner was at David Chang’s hip dim sum eatery Momofuku Ma Pêche in the lower-level of the Chambers Hotel.

At street level, there’s the Momofuku Milk Bar where you can get desserts to go. I took this photo of customers waiting for their sugar fix, lit up in pink neon.

We bought two rather large cookies to munch on later. They didn’t last long.

Frozen snow and a streetlight’s warm glow on our backyard cherry tree in early March.

In the master bedroom, we finally replaced a couple of rickety IKEA end tables with new marble-topped “Penelope” nightstands from West Elm.

And how fitting that the Behr Ultra semi-gloss paint we chose is called “Sunny Summer.”

Sunrise on South Beach.

Morning glory: Andrew captured me on the balcony of a lifeguard stand.

Lime green and moody blues.

This scene reminds me of a Whistler seaside painting.

Palm tree and wispy clouds.

Turquoise umbrellas near the W Hotel.

Pink toes and textured sand.

Soaking up the rays in my Michael Kors bathing suit and Kate Spade shades.

Tan and relaxed on South Pointe Pier.

Selfie with Andrew! That’s a wrap!