Today I turned 31. I'd like to say being 30 was the hardest year of my life. Really, though, I'm not sure it's been any harder than the rest, just a different kind of hard. My goals for 31 are to: (a) Rise Golden Rule all phoenix style from the ashes of financial destitution and mismanagement, (b) Figure out how to make a living on my internal skills, ideas and resources rather than relying purely on stuff to earn money, (c) Prioritize art making, personal wellness, home building, and community fostering, and (c) Learn how the fuck to relax, to enjoy being myself in myself, to decrease chaos making, to bond with nature, and to take good care of myself and my dog. In honor of that today I had a sauna, got a massage, went to therapy and played at the park.

In honor of my birthday and my desperate need for a break, I'll be MIA from Golden Rule goings-on until Sunday when the flip begins for Lahaina Alcantara's July showcase. I would love to say I'll be totally off the work grid, but alas I'll be finishing out some lookbook editing, getting the basement put back together after pulling so much stock for the shoot, getting the newsletter ready, building FaceBook events, and strategizing, strategizing, strategizing about how the fuck to finance us through September. But at lest said activities can happen on my own time, and sans the interruption of telephone and email (the iPhone is disconnected for non-payment and I plan to keep it that way for a bit). See you in a few days, and until then, be well. Xoxo.

For someone who doesn't really connect with nature much, I deserve a pat on my back for this one, not only for the trooping through the woods all weekend--bugs and snakes about--but also for the grace with which I handled the emotional intensity of the subject matter. For those of you who haven't been following, lookbook is inspired by my deceased mother who wore all white--or, being a nudist, often wore nothing at all!--all summer in the 120-degree heat of Central California, and who believed herself to be gifted with magical powers. It conjures up until-now repressed images of the books she read me (like the Time Life Series, which had a book dedicated to fairies, witches, sorcerers, elves, etc.), her art (like that famous image of Ophelia, anything by Maxfield Parish, and plenty of sensual images of semi-naked women underwater), as well as the painful part where I spent 4-6 weeks of my childhood summers being sent to summer camp so she could  have time for herself, her work, and her lovers.  I feel like we've really out done ourselves this time. In addition to for the first time explicitly using my mother and myself as the subject matter, where as past lookbooks have largely been efforts to reclaim places and practices of my traumatic past by way of putting pretty women--and "good" women--in ugly or "bad" contexts, therefor exerting a form of control over these places/practices that I did not have as a child or young adult when my autonomy was taken from me by victimizing adults.
Being able to talk about this and to end the silence via art and expression in a safe community of women and men really helps.

We are beginning to book models, photographers, production team members, and stylists for our upcoming lookbooks, and wanted to put the shout out to any fresh faces, fresh eyes, or fresh hands who'd like to come along, particularly if you're inspired by one concept more than others. We've got: (1) AUGUST = Medical/Minimal/Structural/Industrial, shot in and around Portland, inspired by my past hospital stays and intense procedural phobias, (2) SEPTEMBER = Pioneer Chic/Western Inspired, a 3-4 day shoot with locations on the way to and in to Eastern Oregon, including ghost towns, desert landscapes, the painted hills etc., inspired by my childhood fascination with gold rushers and cowboys, (3) OCTOBER = Black Magic/Mourning Time, shot in and around Portland, inspired by my mother's collection of Victorian Mourning Wear, her stint with The Church of Satan, and her time in the voodoo haven of Louisiana voodoo culture, (4) NOVEMBER = Monochromatic, shot against colorful walls or with studio backdrops in and around Portland with everyone wearing the same colors, inspired by my inherited need to obsessively organize everything combined with the Collecting the Collectors photographic art show by Carlie Armstrong, and (5) DECEMBER = Party Time, in and around Portland, with all shots representative of some form of party, inspired by a desire to overcome my life-long aversion to parties, which stems from the nature of my childhood trauma. Sound interesting? Want to be involved? We'd love to have you in any capacity. Just email us!

I have now had Daisy for almost two weeks. These have been the best two weeks I've had in a long time. When I got her she was super timid, very skittish, experiencing a stress-induced case of anorexia and was perceived by many people as "a behavior problem" (this never made sense to me, as she is and always was very well behaved) and by others as "the biggest dog with the smallest personality" they'd ever met. In less than two weeks her spirit has really started shining through. She's wagging her tail and kissing, hugging, playing like crazy when I come home after being gone even for a few minutes. She's warming up to the sites and sounds of the city, the new affection she's having bestowed upon her by strangers, and she's really turning out to be quite a goofy girl. It's a 180-degree turn from when I got her. No small personality anymore by any means!

She's very attached to me, her new environment is growing on her, and as long as she's with me, she is happy as a clam, even with my hectic driving all around and my poorly-scheduled stressful life. And honestly, her timidity and skittishness have made me mindful enough of her comfort to slow down, to not frantically thrown things around, to not have temper tantrums at inanimate objects, and to want to be home with her more than running around busy-making. Beyond that she's SO wonderful to wake up to in the morning (we have a "Good Morning" dance and song), and waking up in the morning was never my thing! My grandma was so wrong when she told me, "I hope you didn't get that dog. Those dogs are very hard to take care of. They're really messy and hard to train. Do you think that's good for you? Did you ask your therapist first? What did your therapist say?"