Solo

I'm trying to find time in the midst of this busy season to process a recent solo trip into the Point Reyes backcountry (and front country, I guess, considering I drove all over the desolate bluffs from one end to the other as well as hiked into the woods).  I came to the realization that if I don’t write and post pictures, well, now, it will never happen.  I also came to the realization that this trip is just the beginning of many more like this, I hope.  Time to be in nature, journal my heart out, question everything and answer nothing, write, hike, climb trees and jaggy seashore rock outcroppings, make pictures, cry, smile, be silent, scream at the top of my lungs, rat my hair in a windows-rolled-down-all-the-way euphoria, drink a lot of whiskey, drench myself in solitude and serenity and thick seashore fog and of course attract a few bug bites and a little stinging nettle.  And, for the record, stinging nettle really does sting. 

It was a weekend full of ‘soul-ness’; of searching inner depths and choosing not to make excuses for anything; of solitude bordering on solitary; aloneness dancing with loneliness.  Which of course makes total sense that my entire 48hrs was riddled with dense fog and no light.  Because Light. Changes. Everything.  Fog leaves things flat and dull and without tangible shape or form. It makes sense that what I needed was to dance with that.  To feel heavy and wet and not be able to focus on anything while at the same time feel completely peaceful and motivated and inspired and so far out of the box that no one would even bother looking for me there anymore.  A journey of trying not to die on the crumbling edge of a seaside cliff while at the exact same moment feeling ridiculously alive.  This was it.  This was all of it.  

And it knocked the wind out of me.  

And put it under my wings so I could fly.

 

Addendum:

I wish I could say this was a photographic gem of a trip for me, but sadly, no.  It appears that I’m slightly out of practice with this camera thing and that my psyche was craving balance and symmetry and teetering on loneliness, because that’s what this lens saw.  And unfortunately on this trip, my photo making skills were reduced to simplistic landscapes.  The stuff of calendars.  So, if boring, muted, slightly creepy renditions of landscape calendars are your jam, keep scrolling.

A Back Alley Summer

A Back Alley Summer

And it feels so good to lean into that.  And I smile a lot more and sweat a lot more and realize that when you have a beautiful person, some rockin’ vintage clothes and a weed-infested-cracked-concrete back alley in the middle of the unrelenting sun, what could possibly go wrong?!

 

 

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Woman

If you're driving on Keystone Ave. in Reno and you're stopped at the corner of 2nd and Keystone, you might see this in the window of a little gem of a store called The Nest.  Yes, this is me, but no, it's not just me.  This is every woman who has ever breathed.  Every girl who has jumped rope, cuddled a teddy bear, gotten a C on a spelling test, started her period too early; every woman who has held her newborn child, hugged her friends, cried her eyes out in the shower over a heartbreak, listened to countless accolades and criticisms and titles about her roles and her womanhood and tried on every hat anyone has ever handed her.  

This is me and her and us.  And she’s so strong and resilient and giving and gorgeous.  And she bears the weight of her world, your world, the world on shoulders too narrow for the load.  And she may slump a bit and stammer and fall to her knees.  But it’s almost a given that she will stand again, maybe not alone, but she will stand again.  She will rise and straighten and plod forward in and out of weeks and through decades.  And her feet will ache and her face will leather and wrinkle. 

But her smile.  Oh, her smile.

A collaboration worth every penny in your pocket

There was a moment of magic this weekend.  Possibly not tangible to others, but to the three of us, well, let’s just say we can’t stop talking about it.  Dark chocolate, whisky, vintage clothes and locally made wares all wrapped up in the filtered light and history of a century old barn.  Geez.  We all probably could have moved in.  

When local businesses collaborate, something more than just business happens.  There is strength in that bond and the mingling of hand-worked products and die hard passion   infuses everyone with creativity and drive.

Honored to be a part of this union.  Here’s to more rendezvous (and more chocolate and whisky) in the near future!

And if it isn’t obvious enough, shop at Bespoke in Truckee and The Nest in Reno.  Your closet and home will thank you.

The Nest Winter Wonderland

The Nest Winter Wonderland

Fashion has never been my thing.  I care that my clothes are comfortable and low maintenance and are versatile enough to be worn in a diverse array of social situations.  In addition, having a young toddler, I have done away with adornments such as earrings and necklaces for the time being.  

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Donner

It may not be shocking to most of you, but Donner Lake is frozen over.  Approximately 4 inches of ice covers the east end and makes it completely walkable, even skate-able...

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Family

Family

Finally finished an edit of a family portrait shoot I did at the beginning of December.  In years past, I would have said traditional family portraits are totally not my thing.  And, to be honest, I would still say they are totally not my thing...

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Daughters

Daughters

In honor of the Women’s March on Washington, yesterday, I didn’t march.  I stood in solidarity with women all over the world who live in snowy climates.  We raised our shovels instead of our signs and proved our strength by digging ourselves and our families out of our houses.

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