After a couple of margaritas a couple of Sundays ago, I had a realization that I am missing out on documenting my own life because I’m documenting everybody else’s….  To be completely honest, I am usually just too beat and burned out to bring my camera to every function and document my life.  Especially when people are expecting it.  But if I could make images like these below, with no expectation, no demand, and no pressure—just for me, I would do it all the time.  And I think I will.

As a lot of you know, my husband is in a band, Jesse Daniel and the Reckoning.  Jesse grew up in Lyons and the band played  a benefit in Lyons a couple of weeks ago for a girl he grew up with whose house burned down.  Despite the unfortunate event with the fire, the event was marvelous.  It was a great day to be in Lyons listening to live music—hot like hell, but a good crowd, cold beer, no expectations .

Also, if any of you are interested in following Jesse Daniel and the Reckoning, please friend them on facebook,  Also come check them out on Thursday night at 9pm.  They will be playing the Hi-Dive on Broadway.  I’ll be there drinking many beers, as I don’t have a wedding on Friday!

It’s been exactly 10 years since I was last in Italy.  I was 22—naïve, fresh faced and brave enough to take off by myself to work in Italy for Legambiente which is the Italian equivalent to Green Peace. I was the only American working in the organization, with no Italian under my belt, and a knack for getting lost.  I arrived in Rome, alone after a 22 hour travel stint and wandered my way around the city with a backpack and a travel guide.  One of the best moments of my life was my first night in Rome.  After a long and delirious nap and an ice cold coke, I took a cap to the Vatican City at sunset to catch the evening mass.  I had never been out of the country before, mind you and I was completely overwhelmed with what I was experiencing.  It was better than I could have ever imagined and I was immediately swept off my feet.  Italy was my first love—my first experience with travel.  I grabbed a hot dog and Heineken bomber and sat on a wall perched above St. Peters cathedral with a symphony playing in a park right behind me.  An artisan fair lined the pedestrian streets surrounding the Vatican, adorned with antique books, charcoal drawings, handmade jewelry and leather…. Ahhh the smell of leather here is bar none.

So, here I am 10 years later searching for that romance I experienced 10 years ago.  The travel bug is like an adrenaline junkie’s search for adventure… but for travelers, it’s a lust for that “feeling” of being alive in another country—seeing completely new architecture, different light, different people and cultures, new smells and trendy fashion, and being taken by it all.  It’s incredible and only understood by those who have experienced it, and actually have the “lust”.    It is an addition.  Although I know I will never experience Italy again with virgin eyes as I did 10 years ago, today is my first day in Florence and I’m certainly taken.  The smells that are getting me already–waffles and gelato, the smell of car exhaust that is somehow nostalgic, and fresh garlic.  I can hear the church bells ring every hour from my hotel room just down the street from the Duomo and it’s cool enough in the evening for a sweater, but hot enough to really enjoy a cold Birre Rossa.  I’m in heaven.  And while I go to Paris every year to find my heart and “re-stock the pond”, this trip to Italy is feeling more about gratitude.  I’m not yet exhausted from the busy summer season that I call my “harvest”, and I’m still feeling completely invigorated by every thing I see.  I’m grateful and pinching myself… can this really be my life?  How could I ever complain about anything when I seem to have it all…  I’m blessed.

My trip 10 years ago was a life changing gift from God.  I found my passion and independence and came home 2 months later believing in  myself in a new way.  I made all sorts of positive changes in my life and understood for the first time that one can’t wait for life to happen. One has to find it and live it fearlessly.  I have a feeling that this trip is going to be just as monumental as my last visit…. It’s Italy, after all and there are all things romantic beckoning me to live these 9 days to my fullest and to bring home a brighter inner-light.

I had the most surreal 24 hour trip to DC last week…  not only did I get the opportunity to shoot a beautiful couple in our nation’s capital, but I got a bit of  history over at the Postal Museum as well.  History, because  I got to see an old high school friend of mine, Jeff Meade who works at the Smithsonian Postal Museum as the director of tours.  And a history lesson, because I  was let in to document a Pony Express 150 anniversary presentation where Jeff received a new piece for the exhibit. Let me just tell you,  before last week I had no idea that the Pony Express was anything other than the Broncos Cheerleaders.    Boy, was I schooled.  The Pony Express is such a fascinating part of American History, that I simply had to blog some of what I learned….

The Pony Express was a fast mail service crossing the North American continent from  St. Joseph Missouri to Sacramento, CA from April 1860 to October 1861. It became the west’s most direct means of east-west communication before the telegraph and was vital for tying California closely with  the union just before the Civil War. Pony Express demonstrated that a unified transcontinental system could be built and operated continuously year round. Since its replacement by the telegraph the Pony Express has become part of the lore of the American West. Its reliance on the ability and endurance of individual riders and horses over technological innovation was part of “American rugged individualism.”  Romantic, right?  These riders were hard core, lone riding adrenaline junkies who could get a letter across the country in just 10 days by horseback,.  They rode day and night through crazy weather conditions and through Indian territory where they often weren’t welcome…

There is a lot more to be said about this portion of our country’s history, but I’m not doing it justice.  You’ll just have to take a trip out to the Postal Museum in DC for yourselves and pay my old pal, Jeff a visit….

Meet Jeff Meade.  It’s so great to see old friends blossom and turn into wonderful adults.  I think Jeff and I both pinched ourselves that day, catching up and talking about how we both get to do what we love.  And Jeff really is great at what he does– he is a passionate and informative historian.

Meet Owney the postal dog…  this is a real, stuffed mutt who wandered into the Albany, New York, post office in 1888. The clerks let him stay, and he fell asleep on some mailbags.   Later, Owney began to ride with the bags on trains across the state—and then the country. In 1895 Owney made an around-the-world trip, traveling with mailbags on trains and steamships to Asia and across Europe, before returning to Albany.  I love this story, but was kind of creeped out by the taxidermy.

I got to sit in and photograph a Pony Express lecture at the museum… I felt pretty cool, and a little underdressed. haha