fresh and NIEW

i have an old soul. i own up to this. right now. and it's a good one.

I think one of the most important things in the world, especially the creative world, is having outlets. Can you search for inspiration? If you could, where would you go? It's something you find, in the greenland part of the creek by Whitney's parents house, down in the tunnel by Cody's old house, in an open sunflower field. It's what you'd find in Rome, the jungles in Belize, Japan, sipping a mojito near the bay in San Francisco. A coffee shop in Amsterdam, enjoying bread and pasta in Italy. It's a new pair of Nike's. The way your heart warms when you slide on a pair of brand new socks. Inspiration lingers throughout old bookstores, the shelves and materials that so many have touched and turned to. It carries you above a mass of people crowd-surfing. It's the second you get off the tram in a new city and set your bags down at your hotel. It's found when you're riding into the sunset on a horse on an evening in early August, on an exhilarating bike ride down Lakeshore. The most stunning parts that allow us to relax whilst being exertive. I used to find it in my jeep, on a quad, a jet ski, snowmobile, in my brothers subaru, while riding Laura's horses. I used to see it sitting at a bon fire looking through the flames thinking about how much I'd miss Montague when I left. I found it in my favorite room of my mom's house. The three seasons room, all wood and windows looking over the pool and woods with Hoss next to me- shishkabobs on the grill, beach towels over the deck railing. Or in the tree forts we built at my dads house, or on the toboggan. I used to find it in magazines, through writing, through designing without the use of a computer.

I used to write as a tool for expression. That was before I had ideas I could put to work, literally... and the ability to design. Not only did I write, but I read words all the time. They soothed and healed me, moved mountains for me. It started as music, transgressed into writing and ripping out things I'd find that I enjoyed. Covering my walls in things my mother despised. Isn't that what every teenager did? I had a livejournal for a number of years, a very public journal. I think, when I was younger, I wasn't aware and hadn't yet discovered my outlets. So, I journaled. That's what everyone always said the remedy was. I suppose it may have been, maybe only occasionally. Now I just think that should be burned. If webpages could light on fire.

Now, I'm visual. I don't write often (partially why I'm trying it now) and when i do, it's short. I had two of the most influential people in my life tell me I should be a writer, along with a few more handfuls of others. Writing for me is similar to running. I get bored and my imagination isn't vivid enough when I remain stagnant. I'm not interested in it enough to be a good writer. That's how I know I should be a firefighter. I-I-I-I mean, a designer. I'm a movement person, I like things fast-paced, busy, changing. I'm all action. I'd be that weird red neck that said "get er done" every second if I was a redneck. Or a male. Or a shit show.

Now, this is what makes me giddy:

letterpress

soccer games

metal type

wooden type

paper stores

feathers

textures

old maps

witty cards

old suitcases

pearls

globes

good design

old books

gallery openings

sushi

a damn good beer

old book stores

subway systems

traveling

the perfect drive

a great irish pub

midwest tours

old photographs

blogs

occasionally a good hockey or basketball game

whit, brit, ash

a damn good pair of heels

ruffles, cardigans, feathers, tights, dresses, skirts

"feeling good"-michael buble

and, yes.. JLO, GaGa and Jeremy Piven.

oh! and..intoxicating fashion- complete with ruffles, feathers, exotic and appealingly outlandish wear.

>>>basically my life is one of those hodge-podge independently owned boutiques.

I've lost my composure when I lose sight of these things. So, that's what outlets are for.

It was interesting because someone I don't know well said to me the other day "the pictures on your blog don't do it for me, I always view it expecting some meaningless ramble that will end up mattering... i know you have it in you." And I do. I have it in me. But it comes out in between the lines, in the variables and visuals. You can't just have it. Sidenote: I didn't even know I had "blog viewers."

I think one of my favorite things about being a designer and the best work I've had thus far comes with natural ingredients. By this, I mean driftwood, weird leaves, whatever those rocks are that look like honeybees and feathers, etc., etc.

I've received three nicknames thus far in 2010:

cinnamon, cinni for short

spice

pearl

>>they all fit me to a T.