The 1st (well, 2nd) Day of the Rest of My Life

I had this moment walking home yesterday from my first day at my new job, this moment where I actually stepped away from my physical body and hovered over myself, taking the entire scene in and feeling completely astonished.  Because at 24 (and a half, but who's counting), yesterday was the first day of my adult life or, to be more specific, my life as an adult on my own.  I am 3000 miles away from my dear parents and beginning to do things totally (mostly) on my own for the first time.  Yesterday was literally the first day of the rest of my life.

I can't say that I've dreamt of this moment my whole life because really, I didn't ever think of this moment specifically before last night, but it seems like something one should dream about--the day when you are on your own for reals, the day when you become responsible for you entirely.  Don't misunderstand me, my parents haven't tossed me off completely, they are still helping me until my first paycheck comes in (ok, maybe until the 2nd comes in.  They are the best).  But once that happens, it is Ashleigh responsibility time.  And you know what? Even though that is completely terrifying, it is also super exciting.  I've sort of been waiting for this time in my life for a while, ever since graduating from college in fact.  And even though right now it feels a little bit like I'm just visiting New York for funsies, I know that feeling is going to go away soon (or at least diminish).  Things are finally starting to take shape for me in this city that I love and I sort of can't believe it.  I get to do so many lovely and fun things here in New York, which include but aren't limited to-: 1) live in my favorite city, 2) work in my field doing something I actually believe in and enjoy, 3) play guitar for tiny people on a regular basis (starting next week!), 4) see my beautiful college friends whenever I can/want, 5) eat all the yummy food New York City has to offer.  My dear friend Kyle said it best: what an amazing time to be alive and living in New York City.

I've mentioned it before (at least twice), but during college I would walk around the city and be stopped dead in my tracks because I realized, "I live here.  I can't believe it."  It still happens and every time I get the same tingle down my spine and smile across my face.  I feel constantly elated that I get to live my life in the place of my dreams every single day.  How many people get to say that?  And sometimes when I feel that familiar smile start to cross my face I fast forward 20 or 30 years into the future and I look back at this time on my life and I feel incredibly blessed and grateful, saying to myself (and my future family), "How lucky was I that I got to be young and alive in New York City at such a time? Isn't that amazing?!  Let me tell you, future as-yet-unnamed-child-of-mine, it was amazing to me even then." (this is totally true and a totally unweird conversation to imagine, by the way).

Being able to consult with my future self is sort of a new thing and I assume comes from getting older.  I swear, I just had this moment about a year ago while, I believe, I was watching an episode Bones that I suddenly became aware of how fragile and imminent the end is.  Now, I know that this sounds a) like something some sort of paranoid hypochondriac would say and b) a little overly dramatic, but it is true.  For some reason, on this day, sitting on the couch alone in my parents living room, I realized that, at some point, I will no longer exist.  And while the crushing weight of this terrifying realization washed over me, I was met with what is probably the most comforting image that has ever come to my mind.  It was of me, a very old and crimpy and completely content grey-haired lady, laying in a bed at the end, surrounded by my family.  And I concede that this image is likely something I've constructed out of scenes from movies and television shows, but I none the less was calmed by it.  Because it seemed to mean that there was something out there for me, something I was and have always been driving towards--a life. A full, beautiful, exciting life.  And every choice that I make is leading me towards that moment and all the moments before it.  What a fantastic and transcendent thought, ay?  I am learning to accepted that every step of my journey to that image is taking me exactly where I need to go and teaching me what I need to learn, even if I often have no idea what I'm going or where I am going.  The not knowing is half the fun, right?  Truthfully, I don't know if I completely agree with that statement but I am learning to be ok with it and allow for the possibility that it might be true.

So here I am, on the 2nd day of the rest of my life, journey yet to be written, but knowing a beautiful and satisfying destination lies just beyond it.  Not too shabby for a Wednesday, I'd say. Not too shabby at all.

My Thanksgiving or A Strange Day to be a Vegetarian

Thanksgiving is a favorite holiday of mine.  I love the nostalgia it invokes, I love the smells of the meal cooking, I love sitting with my siblings in our pajamas, eating carrot bread and watching the parade.  This year we decided to do it a little differently.  As I just moved to the East Coast 2 weeks before the holiday it seemed silly for me to fly all the way home again to eat a meal with my parents.  Instead, on Wednesday I took the train down (over?) to Boston to spend the holiday with my little sister and dearest friend Marissa and her family.  This was my first Thanksgiving not spent at home in California, and it was full of joy and laughter and delicious food.  You may be wondering, "Ashleigh, if you have forsaken the eating of meat, what, pray tell, did you nosh on this most gastro-focused of days?" (sorry, I watched a lot of Deadwood over the weekend). An excellent question, certainly--Marissa's all to kind parents made salmon just for me so I could partake in the beautiful feast they prepared.  And even though I was eying the turkey and mashed potatoes the entire time, salivating like an idiot, my own food was so delicious that I was easily distracted.  Thanksgiving is a strange day to be a vegetarian, to be sure, but I made it through with hardly any trouble and a very full stomach.

I, like an idiot, left my camera at home so had to rely on my iPhone to capture the weekend, a mistake I won't likely make again.  Being without my SLR in a beautiful place like New England was pretty agonizing; I kept kicking myself all weekend.  Alas, here are some lovely shots from my cellular device.  Hope your holiday weekend was as magical as mine!

p.s. As you can see by the last row of photos, my sister and I made a sojourn to Hingham, MA with Marissa's family to Wahlburgers which is exactly what you think it is: the new burger joint owned and operated by Mark, Donnie and Paul Wahlberg.  It was a great time--I had yummy grilled cheese (they don't have vegetarian options yet), Steve Carrell was there (literally), and Hingham is right on the beautiful water.  Such a lovely day. 

An Ashleigh Grows in Brooklyn

view of the sunset from Ikea

 It’s official.  After 2 and a half years of waiting and longing and bitching and moaning I, Ashleigh Hill, am a New Yorker once more.  Or should I say a Brooklynite? Or a Red Hookian?  No matter how you slice it, I am back and ready for adventure.  Truthfully, Saturday was a scary day.  A month ago when I decided to move back to New York my mom decided that it was something I had to do alone; for the first time in my life, she wouldn’t be there when I moved.  I didn’t realize just how fucking big of a deal this was until Saturday morning, as I drove around Brooklyn with a lost cab driver, Googling directions to the apartment and praying to see a glimpse of something familiar.  It was scary as hell, having no idea what I was walking into, that fear that grabs your insides and makes you stop in your tracks.  As I stared at my stark room at 8 am Saturday morning, running on probably 2 hours of sleep, all I could think was, “WHAT HAVE I DONE?!!? I CANT DO THIS!”  I stood there for probably 5 minutes, just looking around the room and mumbling, “oh shit oh shit oh shit” under my breath.  Some tiny part of my brain, thankfully, had planned for this exact situation in the days before moving.  As soon as my bed and bedding was delivered a few days ahead of my arrival I began to run through my plan for settling in.  Item #1 was to make my bed so I could crawl into it and sleep.  In the midst of my freak out, that tiny pre-planning part of my brain started shouting, “ASHLEIGH: make. the. bed. MAKE. THE. BED.”  Pretty soon my “oh shit” chorus became a round, melding with “make the bed” and before I knew it, the bed was made, I had retrieved pjs from my enormous suitcase and was in bed.

Top: Dean and Kyle, Bottom: sights of Ikea

I woke up a few hours later with a plan.  I had spent the winding down to sleep time planning what I wanted to do with my room.  I made a list in my head.  I went over it as I slept.  When I woke up I wrote the list in my phone and set about preparing for my darlings, Dean and Kyle, to arrive for lunch and an Ikea trip.  There is no need to go into a ton of detail about this part of the day as most of it consisted of browsing the Ikea show room and laughing until my sides nearly split but needless to say we found 90% of the things on my list and brought them back to my apartment.  Here is what I will say about Dean and Kyle: these are they people you want as friends—the people who will haul their asses on a bus out to Brooklyn and spend 3 hours in Ikea with you, planning and mentally decorating your room and THEN return and set everything up.  These are the guys, the ones who stay until it is done.  The ones who, even though they are clearly tired, carefully move through the set up to make sure that everything is done correctly.  The ones who, after all is said and done, still want to go out and celebrate and don’t even get mad when you get everyone lost walking to the train.  These are the guys you want to have with you.  I am BEYOND grateful to them for all they did today (and to my new roommate, Kyla, as well, who has kept me sane the past week by working around weird mattress delivery schedules and giving me huge pieces of furniture).  I know that without these three I would have spent most of the day in my room, crying over a seemingly terrible decision.  These three, with their confidence and their caring, gave me the strength to be brave on a day when I missed my mom and dad more than anything.  And it is because of these three that I know that everything is going to be ok.  Because I know I have people in my corner, even if I’m not 100% sure where that corner is or what bus I need to take to get there.  And knowing this is half the battle.  Looking back on today, the best thing I did was to make a plan and then set out to execute it, detail by detail.  And the absolute best thing I did was chose to surround myself with people who wanted to help make that possible.

Things that are difficult might not always be fun, but they certainly help us learn in a way that nothing else can.  And sometimes these are the experiences we need, the ones that make us take a step back and make a detailed list, the ones that make us feel hyper aware, the ones that force us to take a risk.

Moving On Up

11.11.11. Truthfully, I didn't plan for this to be the day for me to make such a huge step.  I guess fate stepped in and started steering the ship (or fate was steering the ship the whole time and I am just surfing along the waves it creates for me).  Either way, today will forever be an important day for me.  It is the day I started a new adventure.  It is the day I realized just exactly how many articles of clothing I had (I had a 3 box pipe dream that was quickly dashed when I discovered a long lost bag of sweaters).  It is the day that I finally pushed myself out of the nest.  It is the day I began my real renaissance.

It is strange, days like this don't often come up and introduce themselves.  Important days like the day you start on your own path seem to happen more spontaneously.  You usually don't get 6 weeks to roll every detail over in your mind.  They are usually only fully realized in hind sight.  And to be honest, I don't know if the extra time has made me any better prepared.  It is still going to be a scramble right up until the end (and beyond really, since banks aren't opened tomorrow).  But today I know that everything is going to be ok.  Today I actually feel calm and level headed.  Today I feel ready, even if my suitcase is not.

It's here.

The day I've waited for is finally here. I know what you are thinking, "Silly Ashleigh, it isn't Friday yet! You still have two days until you move!" Alas, dear reader, Moving Day isn't the day I'm talking about.  The day I'm talking about is the day that I start freaking out about Moving Day.  To save time, we shall call this day "Freak the Fuck Out Wednesday." FtFOW, as it is colloquially known, is the day when all of the realizations that you've been putting on hold for the past, say, month or so come crashing into you and your brain begins to slowly melt out of your ears.  Symptoms might also include but are not limited to: getting misty eyed at a peer editing assignment from the 6th grade you found buried in the back of your closet, sitting surrounded by a pile of books and other odds and ends chewing on your hair and staring into space, and being a total inconsiderate asshole to the people around you because leaving is hard and you are trying really hard not to think about it.

Ok, so I might have made up the part about chewing on your hair but the rest is completely real.  My dad came into my room last night and I was sitting on my bed, surrounded by piles of books and sheet protectors (I found a secret stash of them in my closet) and packing tape and papers to be recycled.  "Ash....what are you doing?" he asked. "Um...I don't know.  I just got....stuck," I responded.  Because sitting there, trying to shove my life into three 16x16x16 boxes everything just became so REAL.  Like REALLY real.  Because even though I've moved away from home before, this time is different.  Because this time I am going away with no plans of returning...ever (except to visit, of course).  And honestly, I like it at home.  I never thought I would but I like living here.  I like having my parents close and I like being able to hang with my dog and I just like it.  And I know it is time for me to move out, I know it is, but there's a part of me that is pretty sad about going.  My whole life, everything, is here.  And it is hard to let some of that go.  I know that not everything will change and that my parents are just a phone call and a plane ride away but I can't help missing them already.  I like that I can sit here and hear them watching Parenthood and chatting in their room. I like that no matter what time of day it is or what she is doing, if I ask my mom for a hug she gives me one (and a really good one at that).  I like that my dad plays stupid games in the house, like Marco Polo because he is testing my hearing.  I like that in about 20 minutes my dog is going to push my door open like she owns the place and make herself a little nest on the pillow next to me.  I guess I didn't realize that over the past two years while I've been bitching and moaning about how I hate living in California and how I want to go back to New York that I've actually been enjoying living here.  Who would have ever thought it?

And of course this part was always going to be hard, leaving your home to make a new one someplace else is never easy, it is always complex and a little fraught.  And it is also exciting and magical and fantastic.  FtFOW taught me that.  And tomorrow my boxes will be packed and a plan will be made and everything will be ok, I know that too.  But for today I'm going to keep doing a nutty and see how that goes.

Adventure is Around the Corner

Today is Tuesday, November 8th. And guess what?  I am moving. To New York. In THREE days. YES, it's true. An incredible living opportunity came up and so I'm moving. I can't believe it is here already. I feel like I've been waiting for this day for 2 years (which, if you've been even a casual reader of this hear blog you know is absolutely correct). And here it is, right in front of me.

And you know what? I'm both bursting with excitement and feeling a little bit scared.  This is by far the biggest risk I have ever taken. But despite this fact, I know with every fiber of my being that this is the right decision for me right now.  If I didn't go now, if I didn't take this risk, I would regret it for the rest of my life.  And you know, at 24 years old, that is a LONG time.

So I'm jumping, head first, into this next adventure.

Am I crazy to do this? Maybe.  Probably. Certainly. But to me, that's the most exciting part of this whole thing.

Certainly I wish I had a little more security moving out there (read: a job) but I know that it'll work out. I feel like I'm finally stepping into adulthood for real.  And that's the most exciting thing of all.

On Endings and Beginnings

The summer has officially ended for me.  No more camp or conservatory, no more running after kids or ignoring the mountain of work behind me.  I'm back in the office and things are suddenly really real.  Like the fact that I have 2 and a half weeks left in my full time job and I still need to convey SO much information to the girl taking over my position.  And that it is all of a sudden mid-August and school is literally right around the corner.

I love the summer because it exists almost without time.  Everything is sun soaked and bright and days pass from one to the next without too much notice.  This summer, I found myself teaching a fair amount, even though I hadn't planned on it.  I'd planned to hunker down in my office and tackle some projects.  Instead, I spent my days surrounded by children of various ages and Teaching Artists I truly admire and enjoy spending time around.  I got to be creative and share some of the things I've learned as a performer with the next generation.  It was magical and exhausting and I loved every minute of it.

This summer really affirmed for me that I am making the right decision by stepping out of my office position--I'd much rather be out there, getting my hands dirty, working with students and teaching (though, to be completely honest, I will really miss the security of a salaried paycheck and health insurance).  There is comfort in knowing this and in feeling right in my decision to leave my current job.  But it is also a little terrifying.  Not the bad kind of terrifying, but the kind of terrifying that school children feel on the first day of the new school year--the terrifying that comes with stepping into the unknown.  I literally don't know what is going to happen in the next year or even in the next 6 months.  I have some things that I hope will happen, some things that I am trying very hard to make come to fruition, but other than that, my life is a blank page.  It has been a while since that was the case.

My mother is worried about me, and with good reason.  Her oldest baby is about to be unemployed.  But not really.  I have a work plan (and a backup work plan) and I'm not afraid to work hard to make sure I continue to pay my loans and still function as a human.  My siblings are both moving out this month to go away to school, leaving just me and my parents in the house.  As soon as I found out that my brother was going to be moving out, I asked my dad if he wanted me to move out too.  I mean, I am the oldest, it makes sense.  "No," he said.  "I like having you here."  I'd be lying if I said my heart didn't swell a little bit.  Because, in a way, allowing me to continue to live at home is a little vote of confidence in me and a silent way to say, "We support you fully."  I feel blessed to have parents who allow me to do this, to follow my heart and let it take me where it will.

Last week, when he realized that it was just going to be the three of us ("The three amigos!") in the house come September, my dad looked at my mom and me and said, "You know, it has been 22 years since it was just the three of us.  I'm excited."  Me too, Dad.  Me too.

I'm Back!

New York was absolute magic.  Getting there was absolute hell (thanks for canceling my flight, San Jose International Airport) but after a 12 hour delay and getting to sleep in my own bed (which, truthfully, was awesome) I made it to my favorite place in the world.  And let me tell you, NYC did not disappoint.  She was beautiful and sunny (ok, it was a little hot) and I got to see all of my favorite people there.  I think I spent more time outside and walking around this weekend than I have in the last month, which was both awesome and sort of sad since, after all, I live in California where outdoor adventures are an integral part of our crunchy, hippie demeanors.  Anyway, I was having so much fun that I didn't snap a ton of pictures.  I was too busy being in the moment and trying to absorb as much sun and lovely friend time as humanly possible.  I'm still in the process of editing them but try to share some of them later this week.

New York has this way of re-glueing any loose pieces of my heart that might have come undone.  I feel revitalized and rejuvenated and I feel more creative and ready to tackle the rest of the summer.  And it is awesome.

Haven't Posted in a While

Mostly because I've been teaching (circus!) and writing reports (assessment!) at work but ALSO because we are just about 2 weeks away from the release of the first issue of Atom Magazine.  And I've got to tell you, I am so unbelievably proud and excited for this first issue.  It has been more work and more fun than I could have ever imagined.n  Keep an eye out on our website for more details about downloading and buying your own print copy!

Tonight, however, I leave all the work behind because I'm heading out to NYC for the weekend.  I haven't been back since November and my heart is aches for that concrete jungle.  Don't get me wrong, California is lovely and beautiful during the summer while NYC usually smells like garbage.  Going to New York in the hot hot summer is not a completely natural choice but no matter, I love it anyway.  And (almost) all my friends from college will be there, plus old friends from childhood and new friends (Jackie!).  It is going to be just the best.  My heart has already grown 3 sizes in anticipation.

I promise to post more when I get back.  Until then, enjoy the sweet sounds of Ivan & Alyosha, one of my new favorite bands (thanks to Meg for posting a video of theirs the other day).

Trees, UCSC

Art Studio, UCSC

Gallivanting

California is a beautiful place, really.  Sometimes I forget, my eyes so totally fixed on getting out of here and moving to New York.  Luckily, every time I forget this, California is there with the put back, reminding me that where I grew up really is a lovely and magical place.  Here are some reminders, from gallivanting around my hometown with the gents:

 

Ponder

listen

I've been thinking lately about those choices that lie ahead of us.  There are an infinite number of them just floating out there.  And at each moment, you can grab at any of them and, depending on which one your fingers hold onto tightest, the scenery changes.  Not to get all chaos theory up in here (mostly because I don't really understand it), but the ripples from these tiny changes extend in every direction and effect everything in front of you.  Isn't that just amazing?  I find this oddly comforting.

Whenever I am running late (which, to be honest, is often) and I find myself stressing over why the light won't change or why the person in front of me is driving like a 98,243,489 year old man, I usually stop and think to myself, "Ok, obviously I'm running late for a reason.  Is it to teach me the 'leave-earlier, why-don't-you?' lesson?  Or am I supposed to notice something here? I wonder who I am supposed to meet or what I am avoiding by sitting here."  (yes, it is a little bit self indulgent of me to say this.  Sometimes I'm late just because I'm easily distracted, but there are definitely other times when the universe puts things in my way.  I'm talking about those times). To me, this thought process takes a leap of faith.  It involves trusting that there is something out there much much smarter than me that is watching out for me as I move through the world.  I take comfort in this.  It is sort of beautiful, right?  I try not to imagine this being as a maniacal puppet master, pulling unseen strings (though it is a sort of unavoidable image, right?).  Rather, I like to think of it as warm, safe light ahead of me, illuminating the safest path.

So, what's ahead of me right now?  Well....the unknown.  Which is completely terrifying.  I realized yesterday that in a little more than 6 weeks, I'm officially done with my current job.  Like totally done.  Forever.  And as of right now, I have no plan.  Sure, I have things in the works (what up, The Violet?), but nothing concrete.  Part of me is completely terrified--what kind of crazy person wants to be unemployed with no plan?  And at the same time, another part of me is simultaneously calm and exhilerated because I trust that warm, guiding light completely.  As of right now it feels like that light is pointing me back towards my beloved NYC, which I literally couldn't be happier about, but that's not a definite. 

So stay tuned, folks.  Because times, they are a'changing.

The Violet Is Here!

I don't know that Camilla and I could be more excited about The Violet's first issue being published.  Check it out here.

Reasons Why...

...I've been away from the blog for a month:

Images from my trip to Chicago.  More on that soon.

Writing from Places Unknown

Right now I am sitting in a Barnes & Noble Starbucks.  This would not be a strange thing, except that a) it is Wednesday afternoon and normally I'd be at work and b) I'm in Skokie, IL.  Yes, that's right.  I'm in Illinois.  I hopped a plane to Chicago on Sunday morning and will be here (and the surrounding suburbs) until Saturday.  I've got to tell you, it is sort of great.  I mean, first of all I'm sitting in a Starbucks and not sequestered in my office (awesome!) but secondly I'm on a trip with my best friend Marissa, exploring a place that could potentially be my home in 2 1/2 months.  Yes, you read that right, it is possible that in just a few months I'll be moving to a place I never thought I'd go, THE MIDWEST.  Now, granted, Chicago isn't exactly rural or anything, it is a city like any other (and the Midwest isn't all rural, I know that), but I never imagined myself living in the middle-ish part of the US.  I'm pretty much a bicoastal girl through and through.  I love the ocean.  And while Chicago doesn't have the ocean, it does have Lake Michigan, which is pretty fantastic (and generally big enough to imagine as an ocean).  It also has this great vibe.  Do you know what I mean?  I have a pretty strong sense of the energy of a place--I know when it works for me and I definitely know when it doesn't.  For example, LA?  Yeah, that totally doesn't work for me.  But NYC?  I knew the second I stepped out of the cab the first time I went there that it was the right fit for me.  This is the same feeling I got in Chicago when I went the first time.  We drove onto Lakeshore Drive and I saw it unfurl in front of me and I just...knew.  I knew this could be a potential home for me.

View from Navy Pier.

I have to tell you that this trip, unlike any trip I've taken before, terrified me.  Not that I find cities difficult or scary or anything.  Come on.  Three years in NYC toughened me up.  But this trip is the first step in a series that have very little safety net.  In New York I was there to go to school so I had everything all set up when I arrived--where to live, where to eat, what to do with my time.  Moving back to California was much the same--I had a place to live, food in the cupboards, and a job.  But here?  Here there is none of that.  I have no idea where we are going to live.  And I have no idea where we should eat.  And I most definitely don't have a job (nor can I afford to, as I have in the past, get an unpaid internship that turn into a full time job).  I also don't know a soul in the city.  At least in NYC I knew my uncle was close enough to help if something went terribly wrong.  Here, he's the closest family member to me....and he lives in upstate New York.  I feel brand new, like it is my first time anywhere.  I got lost 3 times getting from our hotel to the bus stop 4 blocks away.  I have (up until today, today I am doing better) no idea where I am in relation to anything.  I feel bold in coming here, trying this choice on for size.  Truly, there is a 50/50 chance this is where I'll end up in June (the alternate choice is NYC.  It all depends on where I can get a job).  And I'm sort of stoked on the idea.  I mean, I'm totally naive to the city and the insane weather that goes on here, but isn't that fantastic?  It is a place where I know no one and no one knows me.  If I wanted to, I could change my personality completely, show the world a whole new Ashleigh (I'm sure this won't happen, but it is pretty awesome that the option is there, right?).  There are very few times that this opportunity (and this risk) to leave it all behind comes up and is actually possible.  I'm fortunate to be young, with no one to support but myself, and able to try something like this.

Right now absolutely nothing is set in stone, but from here until June, things are going to happen really quickly.  There are tons of decisions to be made and things to do to prep, but for now I'm going to just enjoy this little bit of the unknown.

If Found, Please Call...

I have lost my creativity.  Ok, not lost.  Lost seems a little to dire.  Let's say misplaced.  I have misplaced my creativity.  I don't really know where it went, but it seems to have disappeared off the face of the planet.  I go through spells like this every once in a while, where I don't feel inspired.  Typically, I just ride it out, work through whatever is going on and bing bang boom, in no time at all, the creative juices are flowing through me once more.  But now?  Now is literally the most inconvenient time in the world for me to feel uninspired.  I have so so so much to do for The Violet and nary a shred of motivation with which to accomplish any of it.  I feel frustrated, especially since my usual tricks aren't working.  Ok, trick.  I have one trick.  Do you want to know what it is?  Singing.  LOUDLY.  Often while accompanying myself on some sort of stringed instrument.  Lately, however, my throat is doing this thing (my osteopath called it a "stress response") where it gets all tense and doesn't want to relax and so singing isn't so much relaxing as it is frustrating and agitating and discouraging.  Worry not, oh friends of the blog, I have a doctor's appointment on Thursday and we are going to figure this whole thing out.  I promise to keep you posted.

Until then, I am trying to find little other things to distract me from my creative ennui.  For example, on Sunday I took a drive up to Napa (as much as I dislike living here, sometimes Northern California has perks) with two beautiful friends for a wine tasting afternoon.  It was pure magic, even though it was a tad bit rainy, with mist rolling over the hills and winding its way through the vineyards.  As far as Sundays go, this one was the tops.

This Weekend I Met a 15 Year Old Who Is More Talented Than I Will Ever Be

Truly, I did.  You guys, I can't wait for you to see the photographic magic that happened this weekend.  It'll be available for your viewing pleasure in the first issue of The Violet, my newest project.  Have I told you about The Violet yet?  No?  Well, The Violet is a project that I've been working on with my old friend Camilla for the past few months.  It is a magazine for 20-somethings trying to make their way in the world on a budget.  I am so unbelievably excited that it is finally all coming together, our first issue will be out at the end of March.  Keep your eyes peeled for updates on our website, and check out The Violet Blog for updates until the first issue is released.


In the mean time, here is a sneak peak of our photo shoot for the first issue.  With help from Kenza, my new friend Jenny, Camilla, and an uber-talented Claire, it was a magical day.  Here are some that I snapped today (though I promise you, Claire's are better.  Check the first issue of the magazine for proof).  It is days like today that make me love living in Northern California.

Kenza among the trees

Camilla, being silly with props 

Kenza, in thought

The lovely and stylin' Jenny

Claire, who is so talented it is sort of gross

The Golden Gate