Stop with the snow already, Colorado. No one wants you here anymore.
Looming rain and a sun's dying light just barely illuminating the landscape makes for some nice drama.
My AP art project in high school was a series of cyanotypes. It's been 10 years since I've bought the chemicals to try some more! Ferric ammonium citrate and potassium ferricyanide are mixed with water and then in equals parts together to create the substance used to paint onto the substrate (in this case, watercolor paper.)
The paper is then dried, in as low light as possible, then a negative (printed on transparency paper) gets placed onto it weighed down with a glass sheet.
Everything is carefully transported outside where the print can be exposed by sunlight.
I say 'carefully' because I have a scar on my finger to remind me of what happens when you don't handle glass with care. In high school I was transferring a cyanotype outside when the glass suddenly rotated, its edge making contact with my finger as it dropped off the wood panel I had underneath and subsequently shattered. That wasn't as disappointing as my sliced finger that would not stop bleeding. I went to the ER and got three little stitches to help close that sucker up!
Depending on how bright the sun is that day, it can take up to a half an hour to fully expose. When the chemical mixture begins looking brown, that's when its ready. The paper is then washed in water, then dried. What appears as a lighter blue takes on a rich, dark blue tone after 24 hours.
You get what you pay for: I purchased the cheapest transparency film on Amazon, which printed horribly and turned irreparably wavy from the heat of the printer. Those bubbles and waves were impossible to flatten out with the glass, so the print was not particularly quality once finished.
But, that's okay! I learned my lesson.
Rain is a welcome change.
I wanted some cute pictures of Nigel and Rob in bed this morning with my strobe I had setup the day before on a tripod with a small diffusion panel. My little guy can be so brave, but he was not having this flash configuration. I think you might be able to tell in his eyes...
Please don't call PETA on me.
Enchanted by Instagram posts of Dream Lake's sunrise in winter, Molly proposed a snowshoe hike to see it in person. It wasn't supposed to snow the night we went up to Estes Park, but I shouldn't have been surprised. Going up the mountain pass with poor visibility and people sliding off the road left and right wasn't exactly ideal, but we made it! Rising at 3:30 AM (after no one bothered with the 3:15 alarm), we suited up and drove to the trailhead. I was pleasantly surprised with how warm I was until we reached the summit. Someone suggested two hours to complete the hike but we did it in one. Sunrise wouldn't be for another hour. It was still dark, and the wind was whipping so hard that it was basically creating overcast conditions and making temperatures even colder. There was no way we'd see a sunrise even if we waited an hour. I took a few pictures without my gloves and thought my fingers were going to fall off. I don't think my hands have ever been THAT cold before. The burn is mind-boggling. All the hand/foot warmers we'd brought were losing warmth quicker than it took them to fully heat up. My toes were icicles, even with toe warmers inside my wool socks surrounded by fur-lined snow boots. We busted down the trail and made a beeline for the hot tub once we got back to the Estes motel. With all the torment we endured, I'd still do it again in a heartbeat (hopefully next time with a sunrise to see!)
Will I ever ride again? Winter has really sunk its teeth in - better late than never. It pains me to see my hibernating motorcycle, her cover piled high with white, as I chip off a half inch thick layer of ice from my windshield. Do people know how lucky they are in places like California with year round riding? It may be time to move back to the west coast! All jokes aside, I am quite jealous, if it wasn’t obvious already.
It's that time again - a new self portrait series to usher in a new era of bangs. My hair dresser asked if I was having a quarter life crisis. Why, yes, yes I am. You would, too, if you were beginning to go part time, watching your once steady pay checks dwindling. I approach this new chapter of my life with hair touching my forehead. Please, bangs, give me the confidence I need to figure out my life before my savings disappear. Amen.
Even though I can't read Japanese (and have a hard time with flipping the pages from right to left), I still love deciphering the Japanese custom motorcycle scene visually. Michael gets so many international magazines sent from working for them, but Vibes is the one I am intrigued by the most. It's like learning about Japanese culture through the lens of custom bikes. Out of any country, they have the most incredible motorcycles, hands down. Something that still makes me laugh is when Michael was telling me about an on location bike shoot just outside of Tokyo. The motorcycle had a decal on it that said something along the lines of "Fuck authority", but every car that had to carefully navigate their way around the bike (in the middle of the street), was profusely apologized to by the builder as he placed his hands together and bowed over and over.
Hello Kitty. A Japanese classic. This mug is my favorite. I have loved Hello Kitty since I was a little girl, somehow winning over my tomboy heart at the time.
It was snowing. I thought, "What would be the most usual thing to find in the snow?" A pineapple popped into my head. Rob said it's a metaphor: I am the pineapple, having grown up in Hawai'i.
The stomach flu is a horrid illness. Constantly needing to purge out both ends - Give me any other sickness!
As someone who rarely vomits, it truly is hell on earth.
This is my first meal that isn't apple sauce, dry toast, and Pedialyte.
Miso soup with buckwheat soba noodles.
Every middle of November, a string of lights is erected in the shape of a star on the side of Flagstaff Mountain. You can see it twinkling from miles away - a happy reminder of the holiday season. It's always fun to make the trek and see it up close.
Did you know that there are only 4 McDonald's in the world with different color variations of the classic golden arches? In California, there is one with black arches, in France and Belgium, 2 with white arches, but in Sedona, there is one with an intriguing turquoise hue. Sedona, like Santa Fe in New Mexico, has very strict design rules for buildings. They must blend in with the surrounding landscape, or at least compliment it.
There is nothing better than margaritas in the cocktail world, but only if made with fresh limes, and fresh orange juice. Triple sec (in my humble opinion) taints the bright flavor profile of lime juice, while orange juice lets it shine. I like Tropicana just as much as the next guy, but that pure, fresh squeezed sweetness is unparalleled.
1.5 oz 100% agave tequila (blanco, reposado, anejo…)
.5 oz agave nectar (simple syrup will lend a cleaner taste but agave is better for you!)
1 oz fresh orange juice
2 oz fresh lime juice
*Pro tip - add a little water to your lime juice to dilute it slightly, and chill beforehand.
Combine all ingredients in a shaker, give it a few good jostles, and pour into an ice filled glass.
I used to get so excited when I saw deer in Boulder, but quickly came to realize that they were commonplace. They are tame; dangerously so - I've seen countless injured deer because the sounds of cars just doesn't scare them.