Hello to all the new readers out there! Thank you for joining me over here. A lot of you found me after I posted about my sewing aspirations, and you’ll be glad to know there’s more where that came from. While this isn’t a sewing newsletter per se, it is a huge part of my creative life, especially during the winter months. I’d love to know what sorts of posts you’re interested in when it comes to sewing because I’d be happy to share more.
I remember calling Steve from the sidewalk in front of my hotel. I was on a press trip in San Antonio, Texas, where Halloween festivities coincided with Día de los Muertos celebrations. The night before was a fun one, and a late one, spent laughing and dancing and drinking. The margaritas were strong. I woke up dehydrated and foggy with that familiar throb in my head and sourness in my stomach. Nothing bad had happened. Not at all. We got home safe. But that day I realized, I did this to myself. I didn’t have to feel like this—physically ill, that is—if I didn’t want to. Through the phone clutched in my hand, I remember telling Steve that I was done with alcohol indefinitely.
It’s been three years since that phone call. Three years of drinking water instead of wine, declining free fancy drinks on work trips, bringing my own non-alcoholic beer to parties. In return, I’ve gained clarity, confidence, and genuine connections. Steve gave it up too, on his own terms. We both agreed on that day that we wanted to live in a world where the best versions of ourselves didn’t need alcohol to be funny, to laugh, to cry, to be creative, to connect. To be ourselves. I didn’t see it as part of my future, and neither did he.
We’re never really given the choice to drink or not to drink; it’s sort of just assumed and thrust upon us when we turn 21 (and even before that). I started drinking because I thought I was supposed. Because it was fun, it was how you met people, it was what you did in college, it was what everyone else did. I had some really enjoyable, meaningful nights out with my friends. Nights we still talk about. Nights that formed our friendships. And then I had some not so great nights out. Nights I don’t want to talk about. Nights I’d rather forget.
But I don’t want to spend my life collecting moments I’d rather forget. Even the painful ones I’d like to hold close. I want to feel everything naturally, not numbed or enhanced. That’s ultimately why I stopped drinking alcohol. I miss the taste of wine and manhattans sometimes, but I don’t miss how it makes me feel. Sluggish and sick, but also insecure, forgetful, disconnected, messy, selfish. There’s too many other things to worry about, too many other things to do instead.
Cheers,
Latest Stories
For Field Mag, I got to merge my work as a gear writer with my passion of interviewing artists in a piece about a Berlin-based artist who made retro riso designs for a ski. Here’s a snippet of the piece, which you can read in full here.
When it comes to the artwork that adorns so many outdoor products, sometimes the best inspiration comes not from within the community but beyond it. Case in point, the dynamic print art of Julia Schimautz, a graphic designer and printmaker based in Berlin—about as far from “the outdoor industry” as possible—who was recently tapped to collaborate on a new collection of skis for Seattle-based K2.
Schimautz specializes in risograph, a digital version of screen printing, to create striking works of art that celebrate color, vintage aesthetics, and a reverence for imperfections that are a result of the method. The result of adding Schimautz’s psychedelic risograph prints to K2’s new Omen Ski Collection is a set of six skis that deserve to be displayed at home as much as enjoyed in the mountains.
STUDIO VISITS #6 featured the writer Andy Nwannem of
. We had a cozy conversation about how spaces impact her writing, what it feels like to collect mementos and build a home, and reframing critique.
November Mood
Monthly Shareables
Reading: The Timeless Way of Building by Christopher Alexander has been on my list since I met Steve and he brought his copy to our relationship. It’s about a theory of architecture that pervades and impacts our lives, even beyond buildings. “In our lives, this quality without a name is the most precious thing we ever have. And I am free to the extent I have this quality in me,” he writes.
Listening: I like this song, and maybe you will too
Watching: The Great British Bakeoff (Netflix), Shrinking (AppleTV), Couples Therapy (Paramount), Tell Me Lies (Hulu), and Fargo Season 5 (Hulu).
Buying: This Schoolhouse quilt at their warehouse sale, this big print by Lauren Fuhr for our living room, and a bunch of craft supplies for lino printing.
Making: Inspired by my Field Mag story from this month, I’m signed up for a riso printing class next week, so I’ll report back on what I make. I’ve also been block printing cards with my homemade tinned fish stamp.
Eating: Belper knolle cheese. Order it from your specialty foods store (like Négociant or Providore in Portland). Sprinkle on everything. Just trust me.
Staying: I spent two nights indulging in the new bungalows at Brasada Ranch in Central Oregon for a press trip. I’ll give you the full itinerary in a future post.
Testing: It’s my first day wearing the Suunto Race-S Ti. Will I get used to it on my wrist?