December 29, 2011


Highlights: fresh snowfall, Irish coffee, improvised wrapping paper.

Favorite present: a skydive, from Micah.

More to come.

December 19, 2011


I got a mixed-paper three-pack of Field Notes in the mail today as part of a not-so-dirty-Santa gift exchange at work.

I love everything about them. The size. The butcher paper covers (French Dur-O-Tone 80# C "Packing Brown Wrap," for all the paper-lovers out there). The ubiquitous typography. The heartfelt yet quirky copy on the inside covers. The fact that they look like a prop in a Wes Anderson movie.

But it's also more than that. They're the kind of thing that you want not because of the thing itself, but because of what the thing implies. I'm excited about them because they look like the kind of tiny, unassuming notebook I would fill with big ideas (the biggest). Crazy plans (the craziest). Maybe-but-hopefully-not impossible lists (all with an Ultra Fine Point Sharpie, natch).

Their tagline sums it up: "I'm not writing it down to remember it later, I'm writing it down to remember it now."

December 16, 2011


This weekend, I'm... well, looking forward to next weekend.

There's a little bit of shopping and a lot of packing strategy left to do before Micah and I leave for Michigan, which my handy best friend internet widget tells me is in exactly one week. Seven days.

Next week is going to be crazy. It seems like work and life and stress always amp up right before vacations. But all I really have to do is make it through seven days. That's it. I can do that. Twenty-four seven days.

December 14, 2011


Here's how you know you're at a great brewery: when you find dried hops just laying around on the tables. Hops that were growing up the side of the warehouse that you're currently enjoying your Working Man's Lunch in. Potent little husks, that look like flowers and smell like beer, and grow up to be much greater than the sum of their parts.

"I wish to have no connection with any ship that does not sail fast, for I intend to go in harm's way." - Captain John Paul Jones (from an incredibly well-designed poster that hangs behind the bar)

Cheers: to Fullsteam.

December 13, 2011


My company's North Carolina office is on the American Tobacco campus in downtown Durham. It's a great place to come to work everyday. There's lots of restaurants, bars and coffee shops within walking distance, and it's got the right balance of scrappy and gentrified.

Plus there's just something cool about working in advertising in a converted Lucky Strike warehouse. Very "ghosts of Mad Men."

This water feature/river-thing runs right outside my window (which you can see the beginnings of in the very far right of the bottom picture). It creates a kind of zen white noise backdrop for everything I work on. It sounds like Lake Superior on a windy day. Or maybe Tahquamenon Falls. (I've got Michigan on the brain. Ten days!)

It's one of the little things I missed while working from the Oklahoma City office. It's good to be back.

December 12, 2011


I love traveling by plane. Everything about the whole experience complements my personality and outlook.

I love preparing for a trip - editing down my possessions and wardrobe to only the most necessary or comforting. Planning ahead. Counting down.

I love airports - being transient and self-contained. (And the people-watching is excellent.)

I love being aerial - it's like being suspended outside of time. For an hour or two, you're exempt from a lot of your day-to-day responsibilities. You can't do much on a plane, save listen to music, read, or gaze out the window and enjoy the perspective, the present moment.

Or you can sneak some photos after the stewardess has told everyone to turn off all electronics.

December 9, 2011


Above: the fake family of (real) talent patiently waits for their sequence. This was the girl's first shoot ever. She was way pumped.

On Wednesday, I helped coordinate an all-day shoot for a client's brand video. It was the first time I had contributed so much to a single project of that scale: I concepted, wrote, storyboarded, presented, cast, and sourced props and wardrobe. I made lists of lists. I double-confirmed schedules. I had dreams the night before of missing props, unshot sequences, jaded child actors.

The actual day went off without a hitch. Everyone arrived on time, looked great, and totally delivered. We even finished about an hour early.

And now I want to do it all over again.

December 8, 2011


I've been in Oklahoma City all week, working from my agency's main office, preparing for an all-day photo shoot, and looking forward to the annual company Christmas party. It's been a discombobulating whirlwind of a trip so far. I basically didn't tell anyone I was coming so I could just slink over to Kathleen and Jeremy's house every night to eat their food, drink their wine, and enjoy their company.

I'm lucky enough to be able to visit Oklahoma City on a quarterly basis on the company's dime (this was my hotel room view last time). When I first moved to Durham, these trips were lifelines back to all the family and friends (and long-distance boyfriend) I had left behind. I still enjoy them immensely, but it's amazing the difference a year and a half can make. Oklahoma City no longer feels like "home."

And that's alright.

December 1, 2011


It makes sense: I love food, photography, process. Stir them together, bake at 350ยบ for twenty minutes, and what do you get?

Time-Lapse Foodtography.

I've been creating these images for quite a while now, but not as often as I'd like (you would not believe how hard it is stop eating something delicious mid-meal just to take stupid photos of it). So now I'm going to try to feature them regularly here, in hopes of making a habit of it.

Ever since the temperature dive-bombed around here, I've had soup on the brain. Chunky, hearty soups. Spicy soups. Cheesy soups. There's nothing like it to warm your innards and lull you into hibernation mode. This broccoli-cheddar soup (loosely based on this recipe) was easy, quick, and sufficiently innard-warming. I've been eating on it all week. And once, just once, I was able to stop mid-slurp to take a picture.


Reason #784 I love my mom: she's one of those people who still sends notes. Handwritten notes. In the mail. The snail mail.

She gets bonus points for the thick, textured stock. For the letterpressed printing. For her beautiful, half-cursive handwriting.

For re-appropriating a card that simply says "Shit." into a Thank You card.