Jason and I are heading to Austin tomorrow for the Kinfolk Dinner Series. I’m excited to get out of town and meet some interesting folks. Just got word that its a picnic in a field and while I typically enjoy lazing about on blankets, savoring delicious food and drink, I have an ever-expanding baby bump. A pregnant girl, on the grass, in a dress sounds…a bit uncomfortable. I do plan on indulging in a sip or two or three of red wine (gasp) and some damn good coffee, seeing that Houndstooth Coffee will be in the house. I’ll report back on the scene next week. Enjoy your weekend, kids.
images via Kinfolk + A Daily Something
The art of the magazine is not lost on everyone. Kinfolk is a beauty of a publication. The paper stock, the feel, the mission to explore genuine experiences and celebrate small gatherings. It perfectly captures a community of artists, travelers, designers, food lovers and explorers from different pockets of the world. The ones that feel it all. I am so honored to be among their awesome list of contributors this time around. My friend and photographer Ashley Camper and I set out to capture a lovely afternoon with our friends in Wine Country, California over the summer. The destination was close to home for me, Scribe Winery, an all-time favorite outpost for hazy daytime drinking, good music and dreaming (Lauren + Nora, I miss you!). Kinfolk featured Ashley’s images and my words in Volume 3. Here are some outtakes from our sweet day under the sun.
Polaroid cover image by Jarrod Renaud; All remaining images by Ashley Camper Photography
I finally have a real belly. The kind that makes people stop and talk to me in the market. How far along are you? Are you having a boy or a girl? Oh, a surprise? Good, nobody does that anymore. I feel different already. I feel pregnant. Sleep doesn’t come as easily. I wake every morning face-down on my pillow, still tummy sleeping. J says in a silly voice, don’t squish the baby! This week we started listening to the hypo-birthing tapes, labeled under the new age category in my music library. I sort of giggled my way through the first round. My mind is fixated on the actual birthing process. I’ve been trying to replace fear of the unknown with hope and excitement for this new, crazy physical experience. I’m resting more, eating cucumbers for my swollen feet and reading a good book in bed during daylight. I know these calm moments of solitude are dwindling down. For now.
32 weeks with child, Houston, Texas
I’m completely inspired. The Goodwin family left their home on Kauai to travel the world with cameras in tow. At the moment, they are in Australia (most of their destinations are guided by the waves). Aamion, his wife Daize and their two children, Given and Truth will “nomadically trace continents to places where waves meet their edges, envoys of aloha. It’s what they will learn, what they bring others, what they will pass on to their children in the hyper-expanded classroom, the lab of direct being; a legacy passed from a father to his family.” It’s an adventure in the making. Their site is totally interactive and random admirers and friends can drop a line with recommended travels, people to meet and hidden local spots.
Their unconventional journey reminds me of one of my favorite documentaries, Surfwise. Its an (at times) challenging look at love, family and the personal pursuit of happiness. What happens when one drops off the grid, sheds ones belongings and old ways and travels? I’m inspired by the notion of the self and the world as the guru. Jason and I travel often, we explore, we meet locals and eat strange foods! People say that once you have kids you are tied down…the life of the nomad is limited to the unhinged traveler. Surely, your rhythm changes but it doesn’t have to be that way. We are free to roam, especially with family and our loves. I’m looking forward to a different kind of adventure.
Such an awesome life. Take me back to Thailand! Follow The Goodwin Project here.
via the littlest blog
Marfa is one of the strangest places I’ve passed through in the country. Anywhere, really. But it put a knowing smile on my face. We missed the epic starry skies that most speak of when venturing to Western Texas but the sleepy streets gave us that feeling we were hoping to feel.
We sounded Hank Williams on the drive into town, past the Prada outpost and the Thunderbird Motel. We stayed up late into the hazy morning hours at the cheapest motel we could find talking about what we want in a community and where we see ourselves living– could we live in a place like Marfa? we beckoned more than once. It’s an interesting spot on the map with a uniquely storied past. There is something intriguing about knowing what you want in a place- aesthetically, culturally, spiritually- and creating it yourself, with like-minded others, in a long-since forgotten town. But the middle of nowhere. Now that’s something else.
We hit up El Cosmico to check out the colorful trailers in a field of gold then found ourselves perched at the tiny bar at Cochineal with some (now) local transplants plucked straight from Austin and Brooklyn. We barely made last call at Maiya’s for unexpectedly delicious eats: hearty bread, spicy eggplant, roasted chicken and strong whiskey sours for the man. Late nights call for a late start. The coffee at Frama was strong and good. It’s one of the lone coffee shops in town tucked within Tumbleweed Laundry. And since one must try the culinary delights at The Food Shark, or so we were told, we did just that with green chili chicken tacos and some of the best damn chocolate chip peanut butter cookies a girl could dream up. Then we hit the open road.
30 weeks with child, Marfa, Texas