mysterese

Brenna B! End of Summer '08; myspace

You probably wouldnt believe how many times I begin my journal entries in reference to Stephen Sagmeister's journal-writing theories.  As if I need to qualify speaking my mind. 

Yet I never have regrets for doing so. Maybe I will edit my blog a few times a year, but its probably nothing to worry about that I censor myself. Why not? When everything my generation lives for is erasable. Usually with the hit of one key command our pasts, and now our futures, could virtually be gone. 

So let me take the time to explain, now, how sentimental a few online artifacts have made me lately; The happiest place I have ever been in my life falls somewhere between a van parked on Mt. Hood and in a collective consciousness with two kindred spirits from northern Washington. I have never felt more "myself" than the days us ladies would share all of our innate and primal tendencies without hesitation. We were supported by the woods, mountains, intoxications, friendships and fires outside our backdoors. Within this potent environment, an entire western culture of snowboarding, art, fashion, design and celebrity mingled softly in the underbrush. We made choices between these two quests on an hourly basis. We never had to settle, we always set out to roam the wild. 

dedicated to Danielle Davis, Brenna B., and Anne Lantry and the govy life 2006