How Art Connected My Life Isabella Pittman

My story begins in what was once an artist's commune, the Monterey area, an unending canvas of serene beauty. I vividly recall the vibrant colors and the fragrant air as I sat along the coast, watching the crashing waves bleed into the Santa Lucia Mountains, the cool breeze blanketing my skin, imparting endless inspiration. Over two thousand miles east in Savannah, Georgia, I met Florence Martus as her bronze body stood loyal to the passing ships. I wandered the streets lined in Magnolias and careening moss: rich art, architecture, and long history filling Savannah's corners.

Early on, I discovered the gift of transition. This adventurous life has weaved eras, connected disparate places, and fostered a heart that pulses for immeasurable beauty in the most divergent of places: empty buildings become caverns of stories, brick roads provide historic echoes of a "once upon a time" gone by, and careening waves sing sweet songs of serenity.

Just around the country's southeastern bend is a city that has never known the word "dull," New Orleans. Residents dance to live jazz in the dark hours of the night, dining on Beignets and Bloody Mary's in the inspired French Quarter, with trolleys rolling their way down St. Charles Street. New...