Bella Grace Issue 1 Digital Edition by Stampington & Company

Life’s a Beautiful Adventure

Discovering Magic in the Ordinary Finding Poetry in the Everyday Living a Deliberate Life Thought-Provoking Worksheets

S ta mp i n g t o n & Co m pa n y Volume 1 • Issue 1 • DISPLAY UNTIL 10/31/14

$19.99 US • $20.99 cAN

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, what is it y e m l ou plan â&#x20AC;&#x153;Tel to d o with y our o

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s life?â&#x20AC;? u o i c e pr

â&#x20AC;&#x201D; Mar y Ol iver

Life’s a Beautiful Adventure

publisher & president Kellene Giloff • publisher@stampington.com

art director & lead designer Mykaela Riehle

general manager Jonathan Giloff

editor-in-chief & director of publishing Christen Olivarez directorofpublishing@stampington.com

senior managing designer Elaine Mello

operations manager Cheryl Kui

graphic designers Erika Ferguson Meghan Horan

customer service manager Dianne Gaytan

senior managing editor Amber Demien associate editors Cynthia Levens Jana Holstein Christine Stephens Danielle Mohler Devon Warren assistant editor Kristen Cervantes

marketing manager Jordan Burnier

junior graphic designers Erin Pallow Krystyl Cullins Kaitlin Mendoza

marketing graphic designer Nadine Alvillar

director of photography Johanna Love

marketing assistants Gabriela Perdomo, Katelyn Friesen

assistant photographer Jessica Wolfe

newsstand consultant Susan Harold

editorial administrative assistant Shawna Horan

how to contact us Bella Grace™ 22992 Mill Creek, Suite B, Laguna Hills, CA 92653 U.S. Toll-Free 1-877-STAMPER (1-877-782-6737) Phone: (949) 380-7318 Fax: (949) 380-9355 www.bellagracemagazine.com customer service For customer service and subscription inquiries, please call U.S. toll-free (877) 782-6737, fax (949) 380-9355, or email retail@stampington.com, or visit our website at www.stampington.com. editorial Please see the submission guidelines on our website at stampington.com. Brief email inquiries are welcome at bellagrace@stampington.com, or write to the editor at the address above. No phone calls, please. retailers If you are interested in carrying Bella Grace in your store, please call customer service at (949) 380-7318 or email wholesale@stampington.com. marketing For marketing inquiries, send an email to marketing@stampington.com.

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postmaster Send address changes to Bella Grace c/o Stampington & Company, 22992 Mill Creek, Suite B, Laguna Hills, CA 92653. Changes of address must be submitted in writing to the publisher. Stampington & Company will not be held responsible for missed issues due to delinquent changes of address or vacation holds. Publications Mail Agreement #40045993 Return undeliverable Canadian addresses to: Station A, P.O. Box 54, Windsor, ON, N9A 6J5 Canada

Bella Grace™ is a registered trademark and is published semi-annually in the United States by Stampington & Company. Product names referred to in this issue are trademarks or registered trademarks of particular companies. The names are used in editorial fashion only to the benefit of the trademark owner, with no intention to infringe on the trademarks. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher. Copyright 2014 Stampington & Company, LLC. All Rights Reserved. VOLUME 1, ISSUE 1

Dear Friends, O

ne of my very favorite movies is “You’ve Got Mail.” I blame this on my secret dream of owning a children’s bookstore as well as my affinity for turtlenecks. The movie is filled with nods to the simplest of pleasures; freshly sharpened pencils, the smell of Scotch tape, and twinkle lights are just a few of them. I think most of us have watched the movie while longing to live the life of Kathleen Kelly, who was a simple person with a passion for life. There is one particular line from the movie that stirs my soul. Kathleen shares with her Internet suitor: “I lead a small life — well, valuable, but small — and sometimes I wonder, do I do it because I like it, or because I haven’t been brave?” Those who are familiar with the character know that Kathleen is actually quite brave, so she must live a small life because she enjoys it. I live a small life, and it’s a life I love. I don’t yearn to visit far-off exotic places, nor do I wish to be famous one day. My only wish is to continue to live this small life that I love so dearly. A life where a hot cup of tea brings me as much joy as a showy piece of jewelry would. A life where I yearn to curl up with a good book on a rainy day. While some might scoff at how easily I can be delighted, I believe there’s much beauty to be found in living life this way. Bella Grace came about because of a shared love of simple and slow living between Stampington & Company’s president, Kellene Giloff, and myself. A smalltown girl, Kellene knows how much joy and pleasure can be found in the littlest of things. We are both firm believers that there is so much magic and beauty to be found in the ordinary and in the everyday. For years, the idea of doing a magazine that focused on tales of living with purpose and authenticity was just a dream. We weren't sure if we could pull it off, but we also couldn’t stop thinking about it. What you hold in your hands is a dream come to fruition. It is filled to the brim with narratives from inspired writers and pictures from talented photographers. It has stories — heartfelt stories — about slowing down and being present in life. These stories talk about the beauty to be found in both the big and little things. While this dream may have been ours, it never would have been possible without the graciousness of our team of contributors. Without them, there would be no stories to share, no pictures to look at. I have to say a sincere “Thank you,” to all of them.

Bella Grace is meant to be savored. It is meant to get tossed in your beach bag, or tucked under your pillow to enjoy before bed. It is meant to be read over and over again. It is meant to inspire you to see the beauty and the magic that surround you, no matter where you are. It is meant to be written in and dogeared. It is meant to accompany you on this beautiful adventure that is life.

To all of life’s adventures.

Christen Olivarez Editor-in-Chief

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Table of Contents

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Today is a Gift by Sylvia Stefanova

Pleasure, Please! Four Tips for a More Seductive Life by Cassandra Key

One-Hour Adventures: Satiating the Artistic Thirst

The Art of the Gratitude List by Madelyn Mulvaney

She Set Out: The Evolution of She is Three by Jennifer DeVille Catalano

Celebration with a Small C by D. Smith Kaich Jones

Ordinary Sparkling Moments by Christine Mason Miller

The Lovely List

Things to Do When Youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re Sad

Meadowlark by Jillian Lukiwski

Falling in Love with Your Neighborhood by Elizabeth Duvivier

How We Breathe in Circles by Hannah Marcotti

The Things We Keep by Katie Thurmes

Living Your Best Life at Any Age by Susan Tuttle

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VOLUME 1 | ISSUE 1

How Sweet the Sound

More Pages, Fewer Screens by Jennifer McGuiggan

I Dance for Me by Emma & Theresa Smerud

Here: The Sacredness of Place by D. Smith Kaich Jones

The Simple Charm of a Clothesline by Jennifer Clawson Farnes

Stepping Out of My Own Way by Susannah Conway

100

A Passionate Life by Madelyn Mulvaney

108

Soup & Rain and Real Paper Books by D. Smith Kaich Jones

110

My Cabinet of Curiosities: A Peculiar Collection by Olga Siedlecka

114

Permission Granted

118

If Your Job is All You Do by Katie Thurmes

120

The Mammoth Men Take it on the Road by Amanda Crabtree

128

Make-Believe by Kelly Letky

130

Along for the Ride by Christine Mason Miller

137

Finding Home by Cathryn Mezza

138

The Pitfalls of (Adult) Peer Pressure by Christen Olivarez

142

Notes on How to Be the Dark Horse by Jillian Lukiwski

144

Cello, Chai & the Perfect Cupcake by Madelyn Mulvaney

149

To Begin Again by Bella Cirovic

152

Submission Guidelines

156

Photography Credits

159

About the Publisher BELLAGRACEMAGAZINE.COM

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t f i t f G i a G s i a s y i a d y Tooda T by Sylvia Stefanova

A breezy summer morning ... Sitting on the lakeshore, my eyes gaze deep into the horizon. The water is calm, the sun is warm, the blue is bluer, and the green is greener. Looking at each and every blade of grass, each and every craftily rounded stone, each and every little wave, each and every slow-moving cloud ... everything is so amazing, so perfectly made ... .Âť

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say . er of wh at my hea rt has to I am fin all y sti ll, a lis ten

It is a rich beginning of a new day â&#x20AC;&#x201D; a bathed in light and glorious abundance new day. How it is going to unfold and how I decide to use it is wholly up to me. Whether I am going to make this day a perfect part of my summer story depends entirely on me. Because every summer has a story and now I am creating one ... .Âť

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Sometimes, I think, it is enough for a story to just be ... to just feel ... to just let the precious moment become me. I am a kite, taking flight over the water. The peacefulness of the early morning is the lift, the upward force that pushes me into the air. I am going to take â&#x20AC;&#x153;these broken wings and learn to fly again, learn to live so free.â&#x20AC;? The wind is helping.

This day is a gift.

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And I am grateful.

This day is the most amazi ng day to just be. Today is going to be a good summer day. â&#x2030;&#x2C6;

Sylvia Stefanova can be found online at silviya-simplelife.blogspot.com.

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Pleasure, Please! Four Tips

for a

Seductive+++

LIFE by Cassandra Key

leasure is a glass of Shiraz and a book of poetry. It’s dancing under the moon, saying yes, saying no, and biting off a square of gourmet chocolate. Pleasure is sitting at an Italian café, drinking a cappuccino, and watching passersby. It’s wearing pink lipstick, sending yourself a love letter, sleeping in, or taking a nap. Pleasure is so many things, and yet, we hardly find time for it or think we don’t deserve it. Even the smallest pleasurable thing gets put off or branded to be “too much work.” No more excuses! Here are a few ways to sneak pleasure into your everyday.

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Turn the Yuck into Yay!

Hate going to the gym, but want to work out? What’s the most pleasurable workout you could do? A dance class, yoga, a walk after dinner ... find something you actually enjoy. Can’t find time to work on your novel, but really want to write one? What’s the most pleasurable step you can take toward getting it written? Writing for 5 minutes in the morning while sipping tea, taking a notepad into the bubble bath, writing in the park on your lunch break ... you get the idea. Let yourself be seduced by the task at hand. Turn it into play. Ask, “What’s the most pleasurable way I can accomplish this?”

Make it Easy

I used to date this guy who’d always tell me, “Cassandra, life is easy,” and then flash me a huge grin. Honestly, I wanted to reply with something like, “Well, I’m so glad it’s easy for you,” and then punch him in the face. But in retrospect, I see that he was right. Things don’t have to be complicated. I know this sounds cheesy, but it’s about surrendering to the flow of life. It’s about not getting too wrapped up in the details and how things will work out and just trusting that they will. Also, you don’t need a lot of things to be happy. Although I don’t fault anyone for wanting material things, I know from first-hand experience that you can be happy with less. Life gets easier when you’re not chained to constant desire and trying to maintain all the stuff you’ve already acquired. Try letting go of some of your possessions (Do you really need that dress you haven’t worn in six months?) and see how you feel.

Stop Playing the Beat-Up Game. So you drank a Frappuccino with whipped cream, skipped your workout, or watched “The Walking Dead” marathon instead of doing something productive. So what?! Does any of it really matter in the grand scheme of things? You hereby have permission to take a break, “cheat” on a regimen, and be lazy just because it feels good. Allow yourself the pleasure of the moment, even if it means having a chocolate-covered strawberry instead of a salad. Give yourself a break every now and then.

Forget the Rules.

Do you stop wearing white after Labor Day or pass on the most beautiful pair of 5-inch heels because you’re too tall and could never get away with that?

Do yourself a favor and chuck “the rules” in the garbage, please. And this doesn’t just apply to fashion. Do whatever interests you, even if it’s unconventional. What’s the worst that can happen? You get a few stares and whispers? And does it matter if you’re happy and having a good time? Nope. So what’s seducing you right now? What small step can you take toward pleasure today? Go ahead and take it. I dare you.

Cassandra Key is an American ex-pat living in the Philippines and spends her days beach bumming and wedding blogging, while writing for her own blog, The Sacred Middle, where she writes about happiness, magic, and self-love. Someday she hopes to write a young-adult novel and have tea in England. You can follow along with her at thesacredmiddle.com.

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birds sing,

“I want to sing like the not worrying about who

hears

or what they think.”

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—Rumi

by Alessandra Cave

bout 10 years ago, when I was in the thick of a successful career as a film producer, I began to experience a huge craving for creative expression. Even though my job was fun and interesting, as a producer my role was to support artists and directors and to help bring their vision to life. This was a very draining position for someone like me, who always had the dream of being an artist, because this setup left very little room for my own ideas. Over time, my spirit was crushed. Even outside of work, I had a hard time finding inspiration and solace. Âť

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That’s when I realized that it was time to take action toward bringing more of my own creativity into my daily life. But when you are down and feeling hopeless, it can be hard to take even the smallest steps toward change.

I knew piration in difficult times, While some artists find ins . osite. I needed to find beauty that I needed quite the opp That’s when I came up with a practice I call “One-Hour

Adventures.”

Since I had a pretty hectic schedule working 50–60 hours a week, I decided to prioritize at least one hour a day, which was usually my lunch hour, to go on “one-hour Adventures” with my camera. These one-hour breaks were nothing fancy. I would simply drive or take a bus

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long, I could see beauty everywhere and all the time, not only during that one hour. I would be sitting in a business meeting and would notice someone’s quiet expression, or how the light was entering the room, or how a coat was gently draped over a chair. Or I would be at home and start noticing a special corner of the house, my favorite books, and my treasured belongings. In these moments, I would feel so grateful for being alive — so grateful and moved that sometimes I would even cry. »

to a nearby area, and I would let everything else fall behind: a stressful meeting, budgets, lists, etc.

mattered. I In that hour, nothing else I was just was no longer a producer; dy to notice a girl with a camera, rea and find beauty everywhere. At times, I was frankly too tired to even walk too far. So I would lie down under a cherry tree in a park nearby and I would point my camera to the sky, to the tiny pink cherry blossoms, or to a blade of grass. It was that simple. But with time, these one-hour escapes helped me find so much joy and beauty in the ordinary that I began to light up once again from the inside. And more, before BELLAGRACEMAGAZINE.COM

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If you’ve watched the movie “American Beauty,” you might remember a scene where Lester Burnham talks about moments worth remembering. He completely describes how I feel since I started my “One-Hour Adventures,” when he says:

“I had always heard your entire life flashes in front of your eyes the second before you die. First of all, that one second isn’t a second at all, it stretches on forever, like an ocean of time. For me, it was lying on my back at Boy Scout camp, watching falling stars. And yellow leaves, from the maple trees that lined our street. Or my grandmother’s hands, and the way her skin seemed like paper […] I guess I could be pretty pissed off about what happened to me ... but it’s hard to stay mad, when there’s so much beauty in the world. Sometimes I feel like I’m seeing it all at once, and it’s too much, my heart fills up like a balloon that’s about to burst. And then I remember to relax, and to stop trying to hold on to it, and then it flows through me like rain and I can’t feel anything but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid little life.” 18

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What started for me as a soulful photography practice has now become my life practice. To this day, my adventures recharge me like nothing else. Beyond yoga, meditation, and healthy eating — which are all great practices to stay healthy and afloat — what truly saved my soul was this ability to connect with my inner voice and the world around me. When I am having a low day, I try to remember to take the time to look a little closer to find those beautiful details that make up our days. There is magic all around us. All we need to do is get out in the world to see, feel, and experience life exceptionally awake and present. In the years that followed my first one-hour excursion, I went on to make a big lifestyle change by quitting my job to pursue photography full time, and by writing a book on soulful photography: “Shooting with Soul — 44 Exercises on Life, Beauty, and Self-Expression.” (Quarry Books, 2013) My hope is to help as many other creative souls as possible to see more beauty in their day-to-day, whether they want to improve their photography skills, or just live a happier life, filled with soulful memories. ≈

You can learn more about Alessandra Cave by visiting her website, alessandracave.com.

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The

OF THE

GRATITUDE

LIST by Madelyn Mulvaney Itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s been recommended in a number of books to write a daily gratitude list, recording all that you feel thankful for. Those who have completed that exercise know that it can become repetitive, repeatedly recording appreciation for a roof over their head, their health, and more. While these are obviously things to be grateful for, there are plenty of other things to jot down, if only you pay attention. We were smitten with Madelyn Mulvaneyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s gratitude list and its extensiveness.

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A Toast (of Green Juice) to Gratitude It’s been far too long. Far too long since I made a list of the abundance overflowing in my life — and my exaltation, my gratitude for all things I cherish.

So. Here. Now. I. Celebrate. 1. The love I share with my family and friends, and the ways I am moved daily to make a difference in our exquisite world 2. My dogs, Roxy and Lucy, and my daughter’s puppy, Romeo 3. The dancer’s pose in yoga 4. Dark chocolate—joy bars 5. Spice — all spice — especially Indian! 6. Fresh, homemade pizza dough and the way he makes the toppings sing 7. Green, violet, silver, gold 8. Conversations with my kindred friends — deepening, opening 9. Seashells and sea glass, and driftwood and bones 10. Love letters (I want to write more) 11. My always-present Pete, who has a heart of gold and shows up every second, every day for our family/children in rain, and in sunshine, with unconditional love 12. Running water (my bath!) 13. Vegetables (and green juice drinks)

14. My hands — to hold my beloveds with — for hugging and touching and connecting — love makes me hold the world differently, always 15. Meditation (on the couch, on the beach, in the beam of sunlight beneath the giant sequoia trees) 16. My sweater collection (thrifted!) 17. The mountains and the sea of my beautiful sea to sky Vancouver 18. Wild raspberry bushes 19. The old and wonderful violet-tinted windows of my house 20. My house (circa 1941) 21. That I am loved (oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!) 22. That I love (times infinity) 23. My past and my present … and the morning sun 24. Tea 25. Morning coffee 26. Sunday mornings 27. Bonfires (especially on the beach!) 28. Sailing with Michael » BELLAGRACEMAGAZINE.COM

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29. Wine: organic, red, full-bodied, smooth 30. Autumn 31. Elephants (luminous elephants too) 32. Colorful pens and my sketchbooks 33. My studio 34. Snail mail 35. Nests and eggs 36. Books (reading “the power of now” at present) 37. My feet 38. Rose quartz 39. Wild salmon

“Open the window in the center of your chest and let the spirits fly in and out.” (Rumi)

40. This quote:

41. Teaching! Oh, my glorious spirit! I love teaching! 42. All the gifts of teaching I have been blessed with … students who have taught me the power of an open heart, an open mind 43. My lovely laugh lines 44. M y bicycle 45. My voice 46. My children’s laughter (oh, oh, oh!), all laughter anywhere anytime 47. All beautiful things that are wild and free

48. Creativity — my sweet muse (after a bit of creative block or perhaps the natural ebb and flow of such things, the spirits are flying in and out and hatchlings murmur in their awakening) 49. Joy 50. Random acts of beauty and love 51. Twinkle lights 52. Perfume 53. My camera 54. My Kate Spade notebooks in my satchel, gifted to me by my daughter Tess 55. This moment, now (and I love that we are all in this together)

Madelyn Mulvaney believes in love and magic and exquisite human connection. She lives in a darling little house in the mountains and belongs to a very happy family. She cherishes her children, Tess and Noah with all of her heart and soul, and you can share more of her beautiful life at madelynmulvaney.com. 22

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Most gratitude exercises suggest making a list of three to five items; we think that’s too limiting. Selecting so few forces you to choose what you consider to be the most important. Challenging yourself to keep a long list demands for you to be creative. ≈ Fill this page up with your gratitude list. When we say to fill it up, we mean it. Write along the paper edges. Write in the margins. Cover this page up with all you’re thankful for.

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She Set Out:

The Evolution of

by Jennifer DeVille Catalano

he is Three was conceived during a time of transition. I was a sleep-deprived new mother overwhelmed by hormones. I felt lost in my body and hungry for a way to express all of the emotions that were rising to the surface. I missed my own mom. I didn’t know how to mother both my daughter and myself. I needed a way to document and process what I was going through, so I picked up my camera. I was scared to see myself, and I was terrified of being seen. I took a couple of online courses where I felt safe enough to explore self-portraiture. I did it for sanity, not vanity. I kept my photos private and only shared them with classmates. I quickly learned how therapeutic it was to witness other women in the midst of self-discovery and to be witnessed by them in return. I’ll always be grateful to Vivienne McMaster for encouraging and supporting me back then. It was through her that I crossed paths with Deb Taylor. Something about Deb’s fun and free spirit reminded me of my mom. She’s a wonderful combination of wacky and wise. She celebrates her life every single day and unknowingly helped me find my spark again.

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She is Three A week later, I took a big risk. I wrote to Deb and Vivienne about my idea for a self-portraiture collaboration called She is Three. I still have the nervous, rambling email in which I invited them to explore the three phases of womanhood alongside me. I envisioned a triptych depicting maiden, mother, and crone as well as a one-line quote beginning with “She” to describe each photograph. I was astounded by their immediate responses, each full of excitement to join me at She is Three. On January 21, 2012, we officially embarked on an artistic adventure of self-awareness when we posted our first triptych, “She set out.” The next month, it became apparent that there was a lot going on behind the scenes of our photo shoots. Not just seagulls pooping on our cameras or crawling babies grabbing our tripods; there were back stories swirling around as well. And so we decided to begin sharing the stories behind our photographs. We adopted a monthly cycle, posting our triptych on the 7th, and then our respective stories on the 14th, 21st, and 28th day of each month.

I chose “commit” as my word of the year for 2012, with the intention of committing to my family, to myself, and to new creative endeavors. I broke open a pomegranate on New Year’s Day, (a tradition I adopted while living in Greece), and remembered its symbolic meaning of fertility and abundance. Myth, ritual, and archetypes have always fascinated me. At that point, I had crossed the threshold from maiden to mother, but I felt so alone there. As I nursed my daughter during the night, I searched for answers. I longed for a community where I could both celebrate and mourn the different aspects of being a woman, without being judged.

As time went on, we found a rhythm, planning prompts months in advance and slowly allowing our narratives to unfold. Subtle healing was occurring beneath the surface. We experienced growing pains as well. When Vivienne felt called to shift all of her energy into her business, Deb and I put our minds and our hearts together to navigate a new path for She is Three. Interestingly enough, “She accepted” was our prompt that month, intuitively chosen earlier in 2013. When we accepted the possibilities of change and allowed She is Three to evolve gracefully, the perfect answer appeared. Bella Cirovic became our new sister in August 2013. She has an aura of kindness about her and a presence that is both bold and gentle. Her honesty is endearing and inspiring. She joined us shortly before I was expecting my second child, a son. It was a time when I needed sacred space more than ever. Bella and Deb supported me and the project with loving arms. The three of us take turns giving and receiving. We text, we email, we talk, we video chat. Each month, we experience the miracle of synchronicity when our triptych comes together. » BELLAGRACEMAGAZINE.COM

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Our website is a sanctuary for women where vulnerability is a sign of strength and bravery is beautiful. My daughter is now 3 years old. It was her birth that led to the conception of She is Three, and it amazes me how both she and the project have grown since then. By sharing our self-portrait stories online, Bella, Deb, and I have learned that healing is happiness.

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She Explored ...

by Jennifer DeVille Catalano

“She explored a new world of wonders.”

Six weeks ago my life changed. That’s when my little boy was born. It’s hard to believe that so much time has passed already, or how much he has grown since then. Even though this is my second child, I’ve been swirling in a world of newness. Up is down and night is day. The calendar pages are turning unbeknowst to me. I’m behind on correspondence and duties of all sorts. I’m exhausted and my clothes are frequently spotted with baby spit-up. Some nights are very difficult, I admit, but it’s still an amazing experience. I feel calmer and more present having an infant this time around. I’m exploring new territory that I was too overwhelmed to appreciate when my daughter was born. I’ve seen silvery moonlight streaming through the windows as I nurse my son while everyone else is asleep. I’ve witnessed phenomenal sunrises as I rock him in the wee hours and pat his back to soothe him. I melt each time he smiles. My heart leaps whenever he makes a new cooing sound. Before he arrived, I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have a son. Now I can’t fathom what life would be like without his sweet presence in our family.

Most of my time has been spent indoors since his birth. I never got outside to wander in the autumn splendor this year, but I was still able to soak in some of its beauty through the window. Had I not been nursing my son on the couch the afternoon I took this photo, I might not have noticed the way the sunlight was dancing in the leaves and creating these orbs of light. My world may be small right now, but it’s still full of big wonders. » BELLAGRACEMAGAZINE.COM

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She Allowed ... by Bella Cirovic

â&#x20AC;&#x153;She allowed herself the space to believe in her beauty and strength.â&#x20AC;?

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“You look beautiful in that dress.” Those words, or some form of them, were repeated by every woman I encountered while wearing the soft cotton, body-hugging, strapless beach dress. The dress was a daring and bold “look at me” tie-dye color I normally stay away from. When I eyed it on the rack at the store, the first thing I did was feel the material. It was the type of cotton that slipped through my fingers. Thinking it would make for a perfect beach cover-up, I took it into the dressing room and tried it on. It fit perfectly, like a second skin. Most would consider this situation a win, but I stood there looking at myself for a long time analyzing every reason why I shouldn’t buy this dress.

when you wear this, you know.” “You will be welcoming eyes your way This was my main worry, that people would look at me. My bust and curves would be right there on display for everyone to stare at and pick apart. But I couldn’t help that the dress made me feel light and free, like I was floating on a cloud. I’m 38 years old, and I’m tired of the conversations I’m having with myself about how I look or what I should and shouldn’t be wearing. The (soul) work I’ve been doing for the last five years has taught me that these voices don’t ever truly go away. It takes some major suiting up, as if I was going into combat to silence them. My weapon of choice: kindness. Kindness. This is what the women in my life have bestowed on me. They look directly into my eyes and tell me I am beautiful in this dress. I’m beautiful? Me? I don’t look too busty? This color, it’s not too much?

Silence. they’re not talking about the “Thank you” I say, and I beam because dress and I believe them. On this day, sitting on this beach, I felt an inner strength I had not known before. It radiated through me, and I knew in that moment that something had shifted in the way I see myself. I allow myself the space to believe, down to my core, that I am worthy of their kindness and that I need to extend that same luxury to myself. I didn’t buy the dress because I loved it. I bought it because I feel beautiful when I wear it. »

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She Allowed ... by Deb Taylor

“She allowed herself to step into the space of her whole being, exposing both rusty edges and shiny bits.”

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I have been accused of living my life thru rose-colored glasses, just like Pollyanna … “…... living life with unduly cheerful, optimistic, or favorable view of things.” In fact, I have been ridiculed and insulted by some, saying that I do not live in a realistic world.

So what? Is that really a bad thing? I actually find it to be in my favor to adopt this optimistic way of life. I see silver linings in clouds and lights at the end of dark tunnels. And yep, my glass is always half full.

So what? Occasionally I stumble and my vision becomes skewed. It is inside those times that I have the opportunity to experience the intense pain of heartbreak and disappointment. I learn and grow, forgive and let go. I have learned that exposing my salty, rusty edges is equally as important as showing the shiny, cheerful bits of my life. And at She is Three, I continue to unravel the layers of my entire being, as I share all of my story with you. My photo here represents the tangible feeling of leaping from the crusty, harsh surfaces of coral rocks and stepping back into the smooth, cool waters of peace and harmony.

This is my choice. I allow myself to become whole. ≈

Through social media, we recently expanded She is Three to provide additional venues for women to connect to themselves and one another through self-portraiture. We now have an active Facebook page as well as a community pool on Instagram where we invite everyone to post self-portraits based on the current prompt, using the hashtag sheisthreedotcom. At the end of each month, we feature some of them on our Instagram account, @sheisthree. Together, we honor the divine feminine essence in us all. We recognize the importance of creativity, comfort, and catharsis in women’s lives. We aren’t just maiden, mother, or crone. We are simultaneously all three. Come join us in the pool. The waters are healing.

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on i t a r b e l e C with a SMALL C by D. Smith Kaich Jones

keep opening my doors and life keeps getting in. It blows in with the autumn winds and sits still with the heat of summer then sneaks silently through the keyhole, dragging moonlight with it, waking me, tapping me on my sleeping shoulders, whispering I should get up, there are stars out there waiting for a waltz, music is playing, get up, get up. Sometimes I do. Life understands when I don’t. Life leaves gifts everywhere. It is messy and the packages are hastily wrapped, the look-here messages scrawled in shadows. Life says hey, your cat is on the neighbor’s roof, and listen to that yowling, is that not the best yowl you’ve ever heard? Life says taste this tomato, taste it warm right from the earth, let the juices dribble down your chin and, dear God, but isn’t this the best tomato ever? Life says there’s a flower blooming in the night; it will be open for your pleasure until morning’s light, and look at those petals, white against the darkness — isn’t that the best blossom ever? LIFE SAYS INHALE. Life also says your mother is dying, take her hand and remember her eyes, it will be all right, there are secrets I’m not telling you yet. Life says you may feel penniless, but walk into the day, the sun is waiting with arms wide open, free for the taking. LIFE SAYS EXHALE. It is my friend Kelly’s 50th birthday today, and for her party she asked that life be celebrated. She asked, “How do you do it and what does it look like?” It looks like

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everyday, I thought. It looks like fallen flower petals, and it looks like rain. It looks like the sounds the birds make at dawn. It looks like the aisle of grocery stores when a song I love suddenly begins to play overhead, and I cannot help but dance a little dance. It looks like a sigh, a kiss, an unmade bed. It looks like

Cheerios in a white bowl with a bit of silence on the side. It looks like your team winning, but it also looks like your team playing the game for the joy of playing.

It looks like a plain vanilla cupcake in white paper, a dance with the wind, pink toenails, warm socks. It looks like jalapeños with breakfast and silver paint on the walls. It looks like a fire against the cold of winter, and a deep lake cool against a summer sky, and it sounds like Steve Earle and Bob Dylan and sometimes Taylor Swift. It looks like chick flicks, books that make you cry, and all the candles blown out on the first try. It is all the stuff you forget so easily and all the stuff you can never forget. It is the cat racing across this keyboard, leaving numbers and symbols typed across the screen, yowling happy birthday. Is that not the best yowl ever? ≈

Read more musings on life at emmatree.com.

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by Christine Mason Miller

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I savor the feral texture on my

nariness, I feel alive. â&#x2030;&#x2C6; In its normalcy, my heart swells; in its ordi

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rewards I’ve just earned — the gritty skin, the smell of sage in my hair.

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LIS T Life’s greatest pleasures are often simple. For some, it’s a steaming cup of coffee, and for others it’s the feel of wet grass under their bare feet. These readers share what simple things make their heart soar. • Hearing my 16-year-old daughter sing while she gets ready for school in the morning — Cheryl Anne Pelicano • Watching hummingbirds dance and tease bees — Kathi Roberts Hamilton • Spending time with my brother, making up for lost time with him by simply floating in Lake Sinclair — Lynda Morgan • Standing outside during the change of the season, and feeling and smelling the change in the air • Looking up to the mountain and feeling the power and grace she holds • Floating in the water of the quiet Adriatic Sea • Reading “The Little Prince” — Vanja Tomic-Fetahagic • A foggy morning spent taking pictures • Taking a nap in a warm car • Ask me again tomorrow, and the list will change — Debbie Grubert Serrano • Reading in the shade of a big tree on a nice spring day — Kellie Nolan • Listening to my sons laugh with each other — they are 45 and 43 — it never gets old • The sound of ice skates cutting the ice as my grandkids play hockey — Lorraine Rogers Roarty

• Holding hands with my husband — Kelly Mittelmeier • Spotting a shooting star to wish upon — Donna Jaked-Sullivan • Cutting dead heads and cleaning up the flowerbeds, getting dirty and ready for the new blooms to come • Going to the woods with my dog and letting him run and explore — Rabecca Forbes • Sitting alone by a grave — Carol Branum • When my eyes close at the taste of good food — Shelly Marlott • Opening the blinds to let the sunshine in every morning — Sally Mattis Solomon • Stargazing — Kim Waide Oglesby • Watching my daughter be an amazing mother to her 10-year-old daughter … she had her at 16 and it hasn’t been easy — Francie Ryder • Listening to the whistle of a train at night • Smelling a newborn baby • Standing in the cool water of a brook

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• Walking outside after a fresh rainfall

• Drinking hot raspberry tea

• Listening to the sound of cicadas on a warm summer night

• Sitting by a campfire

— Karen Ricchio Itzenhuiser • The color of summer — Alison Keeble • A warm hug around a pony’s neck and smelling that sweet animal smell • A crooked smile from my husband — Lee Blithe Weber • That first night of a baby sleeping right through — Leonie Mercer

— Glenda Callahan • Hearing the waves on the shore while I scour the beach for the perfect seashell • Cutting the first slice of a freshly baked loaf of bread • Reading the Sunday paper in bed with my husband … and all our cats — Candy Tutt • Deep belly laughs from my family • Hearing the words “I love you” from my teenage son — Ana Bertolucci BELLAGRACEMAGAZINE.COM

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• Finding a stone at the beach that is a perfectly shaped heart • Watching a gorgeous mango-colored sunset over the ocean • A smile from a stranger • A “Please” or “Thank you” — Patricia Hendricks • The feeling of three cats on my lap • Watching my long-deceased dad in a silent movie clip with me at 8 years old dancing around him, then sitting on his lap — Lydia Aleshin • Watching my new puppy romp in the snow for the first time, then coming in to my hubby’s blueberry waffles and hot coffee served in front of the fire — Cathie Clifford Shaffer • Slowly floating down the river all afternoon • Sitting in my swing watching my hens tend to their rowdy chicks — Nancy Bridges Thomas • Watching my deaf students sign something so beautifully — Karen Wellman • Taking time to drive by the house where I grew up and sit for a few moments and reminisce • Talking to and laughing with my best friend of 62 years — Susan Cannon Mixon • Flirting with my husband — Patty Smith

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• Smelling the roses and lavender as I walk through my neighborhood • Looking up the night sky and being surprised by a shooting star — Andrea Maretti • Taking a ride in my convertible with the top down and the wind blowing through my hair — Cindy Govreau Vaugh • Going to the beach with my two girls and collecting sand dollars and sea shells — Stephani Donley Shambaugh Simas • Being alone on a beach during a storm — Julitta Dennison • Fresh flowers and fresh linen — Julie Kilgour • Cruising our hometown — Kim Collister • Watching bees do their work — Kim Kenwisher Barnett • Inside jokes with my husband — Kendra Smith Crouch • Listening to my 5-year-old sing in the shower • Seeing my cat smile as he snuggles into a basket of mismatched socks — Amy Hunter

PROMPT

• Writing a letter to a dear friend who is struggling • Touching my husband’s cheek after he has shaved — Missy Scordino • The smell of rain and freshly cut hay • The twinkle in and elderly man’s eye when you give him a smile — Karen Sabrsula • Looking at the snow on the mountains in the distance • Hearing a child tell a joke — Lisa Stevenson • Finding the book I’ve been looking for at the public library — Nancy Gil • The smell of the approaching autumn • Watching leaves do their final dance as they flutter to the ground • The distant howl of coyotes • The sound of water as it trips over the stones in a creek — Peg Ackerman • Hearing my kids laugh so hard they have to catch their breath • Watching the stars from the bed of my husband’s truck — Diana Mireles • The first sip of coffee in the morning — Amy Hunter • Nighttime winter walks with my husband — Juana Almaguer BELLAGRACEMAGAZINE.COM

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Exe rcise. Ge t those endorph ins going . Eat your fav orite kin d of cho colate. Cur l up und er a bla nket and favorite flick. watch yo ur Try to make someone in turn else hap make you py, whic happy. h will Volu nteer.

Put on a pa ir of yo ur cozies t socks. Mak e a buck et list o f the to you hope p 100 th to do be ings tha fore you t die. Rev amp an old pair by addin of shoes g rhines or sungla tones, g sses funky ac litter, o cents. r other Dec orate a Go family m somewhe space w ember or re you h ith strea roommat ave neve a shop, mers, in e 's r been b n restaura o t e s, and s p ir efore _ nt, par _ a t ional stic a paper k ky crown, anywhere just bec . Buy ause. Mak a new p lant and e yourse points if lf a fru give it a it spritz sparklin you get n a m e . g water er with E seeds an xtra part a n d watch d c part juic h o ic e . t h A e d m grow. e of you d fruit Skip r or mint when no leaves to body is garnish. watching G . ive your Do dog (or a hobby cat) a m assage! y o u u s e d 5 years t o e n joy when old. M a k e cupcakes you were . And th en eat o Brew ne. Or tw o. a hot cu Light p of tea a candle . . Pain Rea t your f d a boo inger or k. color to toe nails be a con a n o u t rageous stant re here,now minder t Dig . hat you in the d are irt; get y our hand List s dirty. en to mu Know sic that it 's that you is a guil going to ty pleas know you be OK. ure or r friend for _ a s w nd don 't ould jud ge you feel judg ed!

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Meadowlark by Jillian Lukiwski

or weeks I have had the urge to sunset hike, but I’ve been so obsessed with trail running that I’ve opted for high gear and big distance over peaceful strolls with my camera and the dogs. Last night I finally committed to walking instead of galloping and up the mountain we went, step by precious step. Can you believe how long the days feel already? It’s miraculous. The seasons are miraculous. »

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One of my favorite things to do this time of year is lay back in the bunch grasses when the sun is swooping low, and simply unleash the power of my senses. I smell the earth around me, damp with snowmelt and rainfall, musty with decay, and pungent with the greening. It’s delicious. I watch the sun in the grass and sage, see it straddle the ridge lines as it unwillingly gives night the upper hand, the streaks of color that lash at the sky and paint the clouds, a slow moon rising, alpine glow on snow-capped peaks and a line of geese leaning north while they pepper the sky with disorderly order. I close my eyes and listen to the birds. I hear my first meadowlark, an owl down in the cottonwood creek bottoms, numerous other chatterings and chirpings, a woodpecker hammering and squawking at the inconvenience of low light, the screech of a magpie and robins galore. If I listen closer, I hear the breeze in the grass around me, the sound of the dogs digging for voles, snapping twigs beneath their paws, panting and smiling with

their fierce little fangs into the cold air. I spread my hands wide and push my fingertips into the dirt and grass roots, connecting as much of myself to the earth as possible, the wind turns cold, I feel it raking my cheeks red, my hair is in my eyes, my soul is

untethered and drifting away like a winged seed on an infinite silk string.

We all go up on the mountain and turn into wilder versions of ourselves. It’s why we go: to be unleashed from everything that has a hold on us. I heard the meadowlark last night, the song that is the bright sign of all that is to come with the stretching newness of light during these limber springtime days. Every heartbeat that thumps through the cage of my ribs and into thin air reminds me of the goodness of life, here and now, and always. I’m feeling it all. ≈

Follow along with Jillian Lukiwski on her blog, thenoisyplume.com.

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by Elizabeth Duvivier

fter living in New Hampshire for 20 years, I was looking for a new place to call home. Plenty of possibilities had crossed my mind including Paris, New York, and Boston, but none had called to my heart. I wanted to live somewhere I could celebrate the smallest moments of daily life: walk to work, eat locally sourced food, enjoy art, music, and city life without giving up my need for deep connection to the natural world. Perhaps I was asking for too much?

I GAVE MY REQUEST UP TO THE UNIVERSE AND STOPPED THINKING ABOUT IT. Some time later, on a crisp November morning, I was driving down to visit my friend, Christine, who had just had her first baby. I will never forget that moment as I crossed into Rhode Island and saw the sign: Welcome to the Ocean State! The Ocean State? How did I not know that? I knew Providence had Brown University, RISD, and Johnson & Wales â&#x20AC;&#x201D; but somehow lost sight entirely that the state has beaches in every direction. Âť

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I was hooked. Without any further investigation, I went on Craigslist, found an apartment on College Hill, and began packing boxes. Nearly three years later, I can tell you with a heart full of wonder and amazement that this was one of the best intuitive decisions I have ever made. In fact, this past January as a gift to myself, I created a blog (provylove.com) where I could capture a bit of what sings to me most about living in this city, as there is only one way to describe what has happened for me: I have fallen head over heels for this 400-year-old city. As someone who has always gone against the tide, I probably shouldn’t be so surprised that I am in love with a town founded by a rebel. Roger Williams got booted from the Massachusetts Bay Colony for his outspoken rejection of their use of religion to persecute. There is a reason why the oldest synagogue in America is in Rhode Island. It’s the same reason that in this smallest state there was never a witch trial and people were never hanged, whipped, or jailed because of their religious beliefs — it is all due to the remarkable, enlightened spirit of Roger Williams who founded Providence to be a “shelter for those distressed of conscience.”

AMEN. my apartment

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If the city’s name didn’t give you a hint, the street names remind you of these positive energies: Benevolent, Power, Friendship, and Hope. I live off Hope on a small side street in a pretty Victorian that gets loads of sunlight. Living on the East Side provides daily inspiration as I walk my dogs to my office, which is on the third floor of an old mansion across from the Brown campus. The ability to walk everywhere is one of the deepest pleasures of living here and prompts me to carry my camera as much as possible. » BELLAGRACEMAGAZINE.COM

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The city is wrapped in rivers, so we can always head down to get a whiff of the sea from these tidal waterways. Depending on which direction you head, you can wander down cobblestone streets along houses built in the 1600s, or choose to wind your way along wide boulevards bordered by fabulous Victorian architecture replete with turrets, hand-carved details, and wild trims. I haven’t even mentioned the food! Providence is a melting pot with a strong emphasis on French, Portuguese, and Italian heritage. Combine this with a premier cooking school (Johnson & Wales) in our midst, and the result is an abundance of restaurants, bistros, and bars that are off-the-charts delicious. Oh, and the farmers’ market is open twice a week. All. Year. Long. I don’t know that I will ever get over the thrill that this gives me. Most of all, it’s a city that vibrates to the energy of the people who inhabit it. And, in my experience, Providence resonates with kind, open, and generous hearts. One of the things that continues to intrigue me is that no matter what public event I attend, the crowd is always mixed. Always. I look around and will inevitably see hipsters, people of all ages, young couples with small children, college students, whitehaired people with walkers, and tech types all milling together at the rock concert, or the library salon, or the outdoor festival. And, as dogs are central to my life, I should probably mention that it is an incredibly dog-friendly town. Water bowls are left outside shops, dogs are invited in, and perfect strangers often stop to say hello and pet the shaggy beasts. Whether we are romping on the beach, scuffing through brightly colored leaves, blanketed in snow, or dizzy with the fragrant blossoms of spring, this town provides a lifestyle that is easy yet urban.

TRULY, A DREAM COME TRUE. ≈ 56

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Elizabeth Duvivier is the founder and director of Squam Art Workshops. You can read more about her love affair with Providence at her blog, provylove.com.

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WORKBOOK PROMPTS No matter how long youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve been in your current home, there are always new things to discover. Here are some fun prompts to rekindle your love of where you live:

Make some small cards with a few encouraging words on them and tuck them in places around town for people to find. Record some of those words below.

Choose something that people might wear (a color, a baseball hat, a red bag, etc.) What is that item? Now go photograph 10 people who are wearing that common item.

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Look up. Go out for an hour and see what’s above your head (how many different rooflines can you identify? Are the trees budding? Do you see birds’ nests?). What do you see?

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HOW WE BREATHE in Circles by Hannah Marcotti I am, I am, I am.” — Sylvia Plath “I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart. Often the best way we can see ourselves is through the reflection, not in a mirror but in the eyes of compassion, empathy, and fierce magic. Someone who has walked in our story, and then we become that for another. And the breath we exhale becomes their inhale and we need not push or judge because we find ourselves in safety. And the “I am” that surprises us from found words. Another’s words becoming where we are traveling to next or holding us in a pause that is about to transform into tomorrow.

i Am I am warm spiced surprise.

I am the sacred spirit.

I am the opulent lip.

I am song of devotion.

I am passion rising. I am sweet morning. I am built with artistry, feeling, wonder, and soul. I am possible. I am champagne bubbles. I am finding inspiration everywhere.

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I am rewriting what’s expected. I am the strong, sensitive type. I am fire and crystal untold. I am

love and lust.

I am the high and low.

I am displaying layers of meaning.

I am evolving one wild and precious life. I am luminous in the dark. I am hungry

for change.

I am open for fun. I am tender. I am integrating new ways. I am Phoenix Rising â&#x20AC;Ś with a touch of self-adhesive. I am the evolution of connection. I am found. I am unbroken. I am kaleidoscope alchemy.

I am destined to be dazzled. I am a magical place. I am room for a miracle. I am the co-existence of light and shadow. I am beginning. I am tender warrior. I am intense and light at the same time. I am glitter and glass. I am a player of light. I am first, gooey, sensitive.

I am soulflower. I am a new degree of possibility. I am ready to make it happen. I am a cake for every occasion. I am radiant nude. I am the hungry traveler. I am finding creative

I am a soul of light, all aglow. I am the only centerpiece. I am today.

I am (fill in yours here). Compiled from the circle of women in Spirits of Joy, a vision book course I ran.

freedom.

I am a traveler of delicious comforts. I am a part of it all. I am absorbing delicious self-discovery.

Hannah Marcotti is a quietly impassioned motivator who serves as a guide to living the gorgeous life and deeply believes that change is sexy. Youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ll find her celebrating life through story and soulwork she is often found tattooing joy on the spirits of those in her community. Visit her at hannahmarcotti.com.

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The The Things Things We We Keep Keep by Katie Thurmes, Co-Founder of Artifact Uprising

here were easily 60 of us in that room. Faces upon faces of people who, like me, found the heat of that space to offer some sort of respite on a winter’s Tuesday. One yoga mat met another that met another in a muddled mix of dispositions — bright and light and weathered, timid, focused, and indifferent. We were as varied from one another in our moods as we were in what we sought from that hour. The chatter was quieted by the instructor — a seemingly graceful figurehead who will somehow find a way to quiet the minds of 60 busy humans in but a minute’s time. I scrawled my hands and curled my toes from the top to bottom of that trusty mat. Inhale. Exhale. Pay attention. 62

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His home’s roof had been leaking. The pipes were frozen and a shoddily patched roof had gotten the best of him. He connected strings of nouns and verbs in a most human “I’ve had a bad day” kind of way. Inhale. Gaze right. He was having one of those days. You know the kind. Frustration. Inhale. Gaze left. Exhale. Tuesday had won. I was the indifferent one in row three. I hadn’t showed up for any sort of grandiose reason. I wasn’t on a particular health or balance kick nor did I need the nurturing. I was indifferent. Inhale. Maybe numb? Exhale. No. Just busy, right? Busy. Yes. Inhale. To-do lists spinning. Exhale. Pay attention. Pay attention. Pay attention. His problem — the rain coming from his ceiling — was a very real problem in the humdrum of a Tuesday. A well of frustration — unwarranted or not — was his for the keeping. Inhale. He went on to talk about the man he met on the street — a homeless man hoping for some spare change. Exhale. The roof. The roof! Imagine that. Having one over your head and yet so very frustrated. It’s an old story. Inhale. Pay Attention. Exhale.

His words struck a chord. My eyes met their own in the mirror. Focus. You are the keeper of your own struggle. You decide. Inhale. Free yourself from your woes. Seek perspective in everyone you meet. Exhale. Practice grace. The struggle will not go away. Tuesday’s well of frustration will pay another visit. Inhale. Pay attention. Pay attention. Pay attention.

Pay Attention.

We move from pose to pose. My eyes meet the mirror. And somewhere — between the movement and the sweat, between his words and his lesson — a pause. In that infinitesimal moment of balance — just before my tumble sure to follow — there was a quiet kind of reckoning. It was but a split second between the familiar noise and the endless search. Quiet.

Just for a second — for a single moment of physical balance — the indifference I carried into that room evaporated and gave way to a certain kind of reflection. It was — it is — the kind of epiphany that comes and goes with great brevity … an understanding whose lessons take a single quiet moment to learn but a lifetime to remember.

And you are the keeper of your own impatience. Frustration. And grace too. Of the generosity of your own heart. You are the keeper of your gratitude and courage. Your bravery and intention. Exhale. And so you — and I. We are each the keepers of our own story — of the kindness we choose to share, of the struggle from which we choose to rise above — and our own joy too. Today, shine powerfully. Let the rain of your life — be it from a leaking roof or the disappointment of 1,000 moons — find redirection toward something greater. Walk in the sun. Choose joy. ≈

Katie Thurmes is the co-founder of Artifact Uprising. Read more of her work at artifactuprisingblog.com.

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at ANY AGE by Susan Tuttle

o I have balance in my life? Most days no, definitely not. In my 42 years, I’ve learned that balance is not a static thing one possesses, but rather something that’s in a constant state of flux. Achieving it and maintaining it is about knowing what to keep and what to let go of. There will always be laundry, commitments, appointments, projects, surprises — you name it. Life gets really busy, and we tend to give and give, until we’re running on fumes, usually putting ourselves last. In her book “The Trance of Scarcity,” author Victoria Castle writes,

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To replenish ourselves, we need to make room for self-care, and ultimately self-love. And you know, it doesn’t have to be extravagant, nor does it have to take a lot of time to make a huge difference in our lives. In fact, we can weave self-care throughout the tapestry of our normal day. I invited six amazing women artists/bloggers to help me promote and share this concept, and that is how Self-LoveFest was born on my blog. Susannah Conway, Madelyn Mulvaney, Vivienne McMaster, Alena Hennessy, Erin Little, and Susanna Gordon all shared simple, inspiring, real-life ways to make it happen! I had the pleasure of interviewing my friend Susannah Conway for the kick-off of SLF. She set such a positive and hopeful tone with her words of wisdom. A big part of self-care/ love involves having positive “self-talk” dialogue with oneself and weeding out the negative thoughts. Susannah says, Often the very act of getting my thoughts down on paper helps to take the power out of them, allowing me to figure out what’s going on behind the scenes. I tend to lean toward pessimism, so I use my journal to help me diffuse negativity and get clear on what I want rather than what I don’t want.” »

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Writing a love letter to yourself is powerful. When we express genuine love for ourselves and all of the components that make us who were are — all of them — we begin to feel very good in our own skin. Confident. Free. Loving. Loveable. That’s empowerment! Erin Little shares an excerpt from her love letter to self with us: “Do you know how much I love and care about you? Maybe you don’t … I can be rather cruel at times. I know I tend to pick you apart and sometimes my comments just aren’t that nice, but I really do value and love you. I’m working hard at 68

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acceptance, knowing that I have so much to be grateful for. You are always supporting me when I need it, and I should do nothing but the same for you.” Susannah had a birthday the week of SLF, and she invited her friends to write blog posts about the deliciousness of getting older. It fit so perfectly with the concept of SLF, so I dug in with fervor. One of the things I love about getting older is I say what I think and feel, speaking my mind with much more ease than ever before. This is so freeing! I try to be impeccable with my words as I do this and taste them before

Why I Love Getting Older speaking them (which I learned from the book “The Four Agreements,” by Don Miguel Ángel Ruiz), a liberating piece that goes along with uttering my thoughts with more ease is this “take it or leave it” attitude. I just don’t care as much about what people think of me (and this feeling seems to be increasing with time). What matters is what I think of me and the way in which I conduct my life, treat myself, and treat others I care about. What I notice about this attitude is that it works like a magnet. It attracts the type of people I wish to interact with and be close to and keeps away a lot of negative experiences that can be so draining. It forges authentic, genuine connections that make for a positive life. Here is an excerpt from my post:

• I’m more selective with every aspect of my life — with my time, work, activities, circle of friends, the food I choose to eat (healthy most of the time and delicious all of the time). My house is tidy, but usually a little dusty with cat furballs flying around. I can’t remember the last time I folded laundry — our laundry room is like one big closet of baskets of clothes to pick from. It works for our family and we can just close the door to that room. The thing is, those chores will always be there, but the people I love — my husband, kids, family, and close friends — time with them is measured, so that’s where I want to put my all. • Although I love being with people, I equally love being alone with myself. Being a self-employed artist/photographer, author, and instructor is big on this list because I love having the freedom to define what my work will look like. I also make room for “me” time, and I cherish this quiet, alone space. I like to read, nap, make things, talk to myself and spirits I feel around me (no, I’m not crazy), garden, go thrift shopping, dress up in costume and make my iPhone pieces, go on photo walks with my DSLR, explore the city of Portland, Maine, sit still and pay attention to my thoughts, exercise, and do yoga.

• Listening to what other people have to say and asking questions about their lives becomes way more important and interesting than talking about myself. • I am learning to say “no” to requests that don’t work for me, without having to give reasons as to why or why not. • The impulse to pass judgment on others disappears. Passing judgment is usually about lacking confidence in oneself anyhow, and it’s a total waste of time. »

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• Putting myself out there in terms of my work is no longer difficult. I’ve developed quite the thick skin over the years between being a professionally trained flutist (getting grilled by professors, audition processes, and orchestra conductors), getting messages at a young age that I wasn’t good enough, to receiving the occasional nasty feedback (I’m not referring to constructive criticism, which can be helpful) over at Amazon on my published books that I’ve poured my entire being into. Once you’ve been picked apart like that, there’s nothing left to pick at and you realize it all boils down to a choice. Do you choose to believe those naysayers or do you decide for yourself? It really is a choice. • Eye tests with good results take on a whole new meaning when you’re 40+! • Women say the word “sorry” way too much. “Sorry I’m in your way” is the one I tend to hear the most, and it’s something I have to be mindful of not saying myself — I think it becomes ingrained at a very young age. Let’s only use the word “sorry” when it actually makes sense to do so. • We really do need a team of women to reinvent the mammogram machine. WTF!? • I am grateful to all the positive role models that made, and continue to make, a difference in my life, especially when I was younger and impressionable, and now I want to be that for other people. Don’t underestimate yourself — your words and/or actions can have a powerful impact on someone’s life and may just be their saving grace. • I’ve made mistakes and I’m going to make more. I will strive to have the grace to own them, apologize, and do better next time. It is especially important to me that my kids see this side of me, as my actions teach more strongly than anything wise I could ever say to them. • I am proud to be a feminist and proud to be married to my husband who is also one. • Sometimes I now hear myself asking, “Is this really me, or is it my hormones?” • Has anyone else noticed how awesome sex gets at this age?! • I love to dance and rotate my hips often. • When it comes to applying makeup to a maturing face, less is best. • Hats and sunscreen are a must. • I notice that what makes an aging person beautiful has very little to do with the way she looks, and everything to do with the way in which she carries herself — the subtle movements unique to her, her stride, eye contact, an energy that reveals she is comfortable in her own skin, having a personal style, an ability to reach out with her words and actions, and touch in a way that shows she has not been defeated by life’s disappointments. There is a twinkle in her eyes that is instantly recognizable, accompanied by an unabashed smile. I think I may have the startings of this twinkle and I am going to give my all to cultivating it.

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• A good hairdresser is important. And I don’t necessarily mean to imply you should cover up the silver, white, and gray tones. They can be beautiful when you embrace them.

• I am becoming a huge fan of soft front lighting. • I am truly beginning to understand what “don’t sweat the small stuff” really means. • Stay curious. Learn new things. This year I am committing to learning how to speak French — something I’ve been wanting to learn and eventually put into practice — perhaps on our second trip to Paris! • The healing power of laughter is underestimated. Adults need to do more of it. • Finding balance is all about deciding what my priorities are. • If you feel good, you look good. • I love telling other people why I think they are beautiful. • My creative work, my passion, gives me just what I need to feel good and whole inside. Living a creative life daily is one of the keys to aging gracefully I think. • Embracing imperfection is way more beautiful, becoming, and satisfying than striving for perfection. ≈

Each of these amazing sisters of the blogosphere have shared many inspiring self-love ideas in their Self-LoveFest blog posts. You can read about them at susantuttlephotography.com/category/selflovefest-2/. Susan Tuttle is a digital SLR photographer, award-winning iPhoneographer, author, and online instructor from Maine. She recently completed her fourth book, “Art of Everyday Photography: Move Toward Manual & Make Creative Photos” (North Light Books, September 2014). Visit her at susantuttlephotography.com. Susannah Conway is the author of “This I Know: Notes on Unraveling the Heart.” A photographer, writer, and teacher, her 72

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classes have been enjoyed by thousands of people from over 40 countries around the world. Co-author of “Instant Love: How to Make Magic and Memories with Polaroids” (Chronicle Books, 2012), Susannah helps others reconnect to their true selves, using creativity as the key to open the door. You can visit her at susannahconway.com. A Maine native, Erin Little is a motivated and innovative photographer. An artist by inclination and design, her images reflect a deep understanding of her subjects. A highly praised photographer, Erin travels coast to coast for her assignments. Her carefully constructed aesthetic sense is reflected in her sought-after images. See her work at erinlittleportfolio.com.

PROMPT

Love Letter to Self We don’t always see ourselves with the same kindness with which we see others. Imagine how much lighter you would feel if you were to take the time to shower yourself with love. On this page, pen a love letter to yourself. Pay yourself the compliments you deserve. Praise your big, beautiful eyes and even bigger heart.

Growing Older with Grace There comes a time in our lives when we realize we don’t mind aging as much as we used to. Perhaps it’s because we grow more comfortable in our skin and are able to recognize the wisdom we’ve gained over the years. What have you come to know to be true as you’ve grown older?

Today, on , I am this is what I know to be true:

years old, and

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How Sweet T H E

SOUND

Though complete silence can be blissful, our days are usually filled with sounds coming from every direction. Not all are pleasant, but there are certain sounds that make our hearts soar.

The casting of a fishing pole

The soft swish of silk

Flip-flops hitting the sidewalk.

The click and clatter of typewriter keys

— Terry Tyre My daughter’s truck tires on the driveway gravel Scissors cutting through a new swatch of fabric The soft laughter of friends gathered around a crackling fire — Tammy Hicks Knitting needles clicking — Michelle Welch Any rain, anywhere —Elizabeth Thompson Colville Coffee percolating — Valerie Fimple My “girls” (little red hens) talking to me when I take them their food — Penny Kleiner

— Kimberly Jones Uncontrolled laughter —

Dinah Lynn Colegrove

A lone cricket chirruping a solitary symphony Leaves skittering along the sidewalk — Nin LaCafta Slamming screen doors — Candace Horner A teakettle boiling My 18-year-old son laughing like he’s a little boy again —

Cindy Apgar Monahan

My cat crunching her kibble — Anna Carrasco Bubble wrap popping — Susie Wurl

The sound of scissors cutting through construction paper — Jenny D’Aoust

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A baseball being hit off an aluminum bat — Tonya Privett Roach

A far-off train in the nighttime — Gabriela Perdomo Ice cubes clinking into a glass in the summertime — Candy Tutt

A lawnmower in the distance on a Saturday morning — Joell Gaskill The slow, even breathing of my husband sleeping beside me — Carole Ousnamer-Lester

Cicadas on a hot summer night The silence of snowfall — Karen Ricchio Itzenhuiser

Waves crashing into the shore — Becky Kilpatrick

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By Jennifer McGuiggan

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Story by Theresa Smerud Poem by Emma Smerud This piece of sage wisdom was written to me in an email from my then 13-year-old daughter in response to a discussion we had only 15 minutes prior. She knows who she is and is happy in her own skin â&#x20AC;Ś something so many of us attempt to achieve but fail at. I marvel at her selfcontentment. This has been a true source of inspiration for me. I should be the one teaching her this life lesson, but it is the other way around. Even as she approaches 16, she answers to herself.

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HERE by D. Smith Kaich Jones

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by Jennifer Clawson Farnes A wooden clothesline stretched across the backyard of my childhood home, nestled against a graceful weeping willow tree and near the road that separated our yard from our neighborâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s apple orchard. The clothesline was likely as old as the house itself and aging gracefully along with it. Monday was washday for every house in the neighborhood, so laundry in various colors and shapes rippled and billowed from the clotheslines. It was a time before fences separated yards and neighbors, and therefore a site to behold. My love affair with clotheslines began at a young age. I helped Mother each washday, handing her wet laundry to hang on the line or stuffing dry laundry into a bushel basket lined with floral oilcloth. As there were three of us under age 3, that clothesline was used every single week, day in and day out, and through all seasons. Âť

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As I grew older, the

clothesline became a splendid plaything, transforming into a framework for countless castles where blankets were pegged tentstyle to the narrow ropes. I stretched the blankets out on the grass and weighed them down with rocks to create the perfect place for tea parties with my dollies or picnic lunches while entertaining daydreams.

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We moved from that house to Arizona when I was 9 years old and lived in two different houses — sadly, both without clotheslines. We had clothes dryers, but Mother’s love for fresh sheets led her to string a rope between the posts of our carport. Our family later moved to California to another house without a clothesline. Apparently clotheslines had become passé. Imagine my delight when our family moved to an old house in a new state with a clothesline in the backyard. We had a clothes dryer tucked downstairs, but Mother and I both preferred the clothesline. I became the resident laundress, hauling wet clothes from the washing machine and out to the backyard to that beloved clothesline. In the summer, the sun bleached, whitened, and brightened everything.

When I washed the sheets from my bed, I blissfully fell asleep at night as the sweet, sun-fresh scent lulled me to sleep.

from her linen closet and I realized her closet smelled so good because the wood had taken on the delicious sun-dried scent of all those linens. Linens that spent

countless mornings and afternoons hanging on her clothesline, drying and flapping in gentle breezes. Linens kissed by the sun, every fiber caressed by fresh air. After we married, my husband and I lived in a basement apartment where the only perk was the clothesline in the backyard. I washed clothes in the morning and hung them on the line to dry before I left for work. We took them down after we arrived home in the late afternoon, gathering all that freshness into our arms. In the winter, we draped clothes from bookcases, chair backs, and doorjambs to let them dry. The scent of outdoor-freshened laundry filled our little apartment. Even though the sheets were still a bit damp when we finally snuggled into them for the night, they smelled so good that the dampness did not matter. Six houses later, we settled into the home of our dreams — a

dream with a clothesline in a small backyard that overlooked the vast Puget Sound and an equally vast valley of tangled blackberry vines. This particular clothesline

was an umbrella clothesline: small, pentagon-shaped with plastic ropes in rows of four. The scent of my linen closet finally resembled the sweet sunshine-and-air fragrance of my grandmother’s linen closets. I used that clothesline and its replacement for years, and it was eventually sold at an estate sale after we moved. On the island where my husband and I now live, life is less complicated and full of simple pleasures. The moments of each When we moved into each new home, I often wondered why the linen closets never smelled as wonderful as my grandmother’s linen closets did. When my grandmother was moving from the house she had lived in all her married life, we removed the linens

day pass in beauty, and life strangely mimics those carefree years when I was a little girl.

We have a garden and I happily preserve what we grow each summer. I plant flowers the deer will not eat, watch wildlife cavort outside our windows, and wonder over the remarkable life that is mine. Our cottage »

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faces the Puget Sound, where I see sunrises and moonrises on the ever-changing horizon. Life is perfect here, idyllic, except for one thing: I lack a clothesline and my heart yearns for one. Our enormous yard slopes through a fledgling orchard down to our cottage, and the drop continues all the way to the bluff, creating uneven ground that threatens me with potential sprained ankles. A clothesline seems like such a simple thing, but the task is currently beyond time constrains, expertise, and finances. Thus, I crave and covet the one thing I do not have.

A clothesline painted white with delicate, lacy scrollwork decorating the underside of the outstretched arms that sit atop the center post. This, my friends, is a thing of beauty.

I happily stumbled across a photograph of the most beautiful clothesline ever created. In a far-away corner of

I no longer want a clothesline â&#x20AC;Ś I want that clothesline. Hopefully some day in the not-too-distant future, my husband will figure out a way to build it for me. My bedroom, my linen closet, and the sheets on my bed will smell of French violet-scented washing powder, of island sunshine, and gentle breezes. I shall fall asleep peacefully and oh so content. I shall dream of my grandmothers, their linen closets, and clotheslines, and playing in the shade of a clothesline tent. â&#x2030;&#x2C6;

the world, an adoring husband built that lovely clothesline for his very blessed wife. A chippy green bench, with a galvanized tub of freshly washed laundry atop it, provides pleasant company for that perfect clothesline. Flowers in a neat little garden embroider the edge of a grassed yard, and that charming clothesline sits in the heart of it. Sigh.

Jennifer Farnes lives on an island in the Pacific Northwest with her husband and an itinerant peahen named Edna.Â A mother of six, grandmother to seven, she loves old stuff, finds beauty everywhere, and is still without a clothesline. Follow along with her at thechroniclesoffarnia.com.

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Stepping Out OF

M Y O W N W AY by Susannah Conway

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Passionate by Madelyn Mulvaney

his morning is tea and dogs and a bird wearing love sonnets. A dazzling lurch of sky. Also magical branches like galloping swords and thick Irish socks the color of clotted cream. New books (a return to love and a book of bees), then handwritten letters and pretty stamps in a jumble of colorful markers. Comings and goings — mostly to the cupboard for almonds and handfuls of dark chocolate covered blueberries. Stringing turquoise and stone beads on a delicate indigo thread. Beautiful, beautiful music. Yerba Mate tea and raspberry muffins. Yoga up in the bedroom loft — stretch, unbend, breathe, let go ... (with Lucy on the pink quilted bed) This morning is carefree, exploratory, and a list of things I crave ... things I fall in love with. I fall in love every day in the best possible way — with outdoor concerts, dance lessons, bonfires on the beach, homemade pizza, small pebbles in pockets, pale green apples, and yellow butterflies. Here: I want to share something with you. » BELLAGRACEMAGAZINE.COM

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“There is a story

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I offered this quote as a gorgeous assignment in my e-course called “The Passion,” and I am thinking you might like to try it as well. It is called “The Strawberry Assignment” and it’s wonderfully simple and yet profoundly life altering. Let’s try this for one

day. Just one. For this entire day, remind yourself how beautiful, how utterly perfect it is to be alive. Tune into your loveliest cravings and do absolutely anything and everything that lights you up, ignites your soul, turns you on. Follow all the callings of your soul to quench the loveliest desires throughout the day no matter how simple. What do your mind, body, and spirit crave? What do you desire? I myself have a lumber pile of cravings! »

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I long for … the spray of sea on my eyelashes … I feel faint for the taste of fresh mango with a drizzle of honey … I feel joy for lingering kisses in the sunshine and his hands on the small of my back walking along the seawall … I feel longing for an entire Sunday morning sleeping in with magazines and long earthy conversation … for making love in the middle of the day under the apple trees … a bicycle ride along the sea wall at Stanley Park, wandering in charming bookshops … I crave oysters and red wine and a foreign film in the afternoon at the 5th Avenue Cinema … I love exploring with my cameras finding delicate eggs and moss and nests … I adore untamed flowers and plump succulents on my studio desk when I am writing … magenta walls! Potted blueberries! … I light UP making a massive veggie lasagna with my kids for Sunday night dinner and laughing together. I enjoy with great relish an hour with my journal by the creek near the grove of giant Sequoia trees … oh! And, of course, weekend road trips in my red VW bug ... I crave it all. These are just a few of what I so long for, so sigh over. And each and every day I find a way to celebrate and quench just a few longings — to follow an impulse in the moment and truly live life. I know … I know. Of course, life has its chores and demands and a flurry of challenges. Tigers above, tigers below — all the more reason to reach for those strawberries and not let life’s magical moments pass you by. Desires deserve your intimate tender attention. Desires deserve your respect. »

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The fabulous thing is when I nurture my desires, my creativity blooms, my relationships deepen, my self-love abounds a zillion fold! And so it will be for you, all you lovers. In the best possible way. Try it! Don’t leave your longings unrequited! Eat cherry pie for breakfast,

sleep in sunbeams in the afternoon — walk barefoot in the rain with a friend you love. Sprinkle love notes around town! Toss a sprinkle of cinnamon into your morning coffee.

I am having a magnificent day. Tonight will be margaritas, a fire, and a moonlit walk along the creek. Lumber piles of love in my little house. I believe in a passionate life — all of it! ≈

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by D. Smith Kaich Jones

he rain that they said would be here by noon was here when I awoke at 8, the tiniest of raindrops dotting the sidewalk and Jeep windshield, turning into rainier rain quickly. My first thought was that I needed to take out the trash before it grew even rainier. The cold that they said would begin to move in by noon is moving in earlier. Yesterday’s almost 80 degrees is gone ... already we are half that and headed for colder. It will be in the 20s tonight, with possible sleet and other winter wonders. And so it goes, that back and forthness of winter-spring. The last of autumn’s leaves are still piled under the monkey grass, Christmas has come and gone, and January is long past. Pear trees have bloomed or, like ours, are beginning. Earlier this week the tulip trees lost their blossoms to a night measuring 27 degrees. Rest in peace sweet blooms, and thank you for painting last week pink. Yesterday morning and it was March, and humid; February at long last gone, I awoke to green grass in splotches all around the house, opened the bedroom blinds to see green on the ground for the first time in months. Weeds, wildflowers, and Paperwhites clustered in even fatter bunches. It was quickly warm, doors and windows opened, fans turned on almost all the way to 11. By

mid-afternoon we were sitting in the yard, blessing breezes, vodka for Katie, and coke and ice for me, discussing plans and pasts and futures. By late afternoon moving into darkness, we had changed bare feet for shoes and bare shoulders for sweaters, and the owls in the magnolia tree behind the house were awake and calling to each other. There is soup cooking in the slow cooker, leftover vegetables, ragtag ends of celery sticks and carrots, and extra okra and onions. The kitchen window is open despite the cold air, and the sound of raindrops plopping into puddles confuses me, makes me think the soup is boiling over. Skye cat is curled in front of the fire sleeping. I have been re-reading Barbara Kingsolver this week — “The Bean Trees” — on my Kindle, but back to real paper for the rest of her books since, after all, I have them, right up there on the bookshelves. I am back in Tucson when I read her, smelling the air after the rain — at least for some books; I will not re-read “The Poisonwood Bible,” no matter how wonderful it may be. It requires more strength than I have. And so today is quiet, the sound of fire and rain and the turning of pages. The sound of prayers for the pear trees and cold winds. The sound of endings and beginnings. ≈

wednesday was a tiny fever and too early awake and cold air outside the closed doors and windows, and valentine roses that needed to be tossed.

thursday morning,

tossed into the creek, the dark red blossoms fell through the even colder not one rose landed pointing true north. 108

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air;

Read more of D. Smith Kaich Jonesâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; writing at emmatree.com.

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cka

by Olga Siedle

cabinet of curiosities, also known as a cabinet of wonder or simply a wonder-room, is a peculiar collection of objects belonging to such varied domains as natural history, archeology, geology, art, memorabilia, and antiquities. One can find in it seashells and feathers next to stardust or an alicorn. It is a place where art and science mingle with fantasy and legends, thus creating a memory theatre.

I encountered a cabinet of curiosities for the first time during my visit in a Prague library and it was so impressive. I stood there as if enchanted, watching all the treasures encased within the display cabinets, while the crowd of visitors passed me by. I was like a child in a candy store, not knowing where to look first as everything around was so tempting! I would have given so much at that time to have just a tiny bit of the mesmerizing collection I was looking at. These days I’m collecting my own treasures, enlarging my compilation of curiosities. Maybe they are not overly rare or precious, but they hold sentimental value to me and are related to the places they originate from. These keepsakes prove that we can experience happiness whenever and wherever we are. Nowadays my collection includes seashells found beneath an Irish cliff after a terrible storm, a coral given to me by an elderly scientist, and desert roses purchased at an Arabic bazaar. I’m also passionate about minerals, especially those I’ve found during my wanderings in caves»

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and abandoned mines. They remind me of the happiness I was feeling amidst nature â&#x20AC;&#x201D; a great source of joy and fulfillment. I have a number of feathers gathered in the Swedish wilderness, as well as those found in the Pyrenees or in the forest neighboring the place where I play hide and seek with my children. One of my dearest findings are broken Charlotte dolls that I discovered in a former toy factory!

I love to look through my collection while drinking warm chocolate and eating homemade cake. In my mind I get

back to the places and times that still evoke warm feelings in my heart. Oscar Wilde once wrote that our memory is a diary we carry about with us; I hold my diary in old jars, wooden boxes, and corked vials. And what I carry with me is a sense of satisfaction, which I experienced every time I took possession of a new trophy. I now know that finding happiness in small, everyday things is what really makes my life worthwhile.

Olga Siedlecka is in love with nature. She is nostalgic, creative, a seeker of beauty, and full of beans.

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Permission G R A N T E D Life is full of responsibilities and to-do lists. It’s easy to dismiss the thought of doing something for ourselves because there is so much else that needs to get done. It’s as though we need permission to do what we want to do. Here’s what women told us they needed to grant themselves permission to do.

Make my bed when I feel like it — Linda Curtis

Sleep in late and have coffee in bed — Shauna Palmer

Love myself and let go of what isn’t working — Narah Kimberly Arrington

Stop being productive, grab a great book of fiction, pop some popcorn, and simply get lost in a novel — Sherry Richert Belul

Have chocolate cake for breakfast, if that’s what I want — Sharon Morrison Be a little wicked each day — Jocelyn Lofton Light candles during the day — Caroline O’Connor To be more and do less — Elisabeth Ann

To lie on the green grass with my rescued greyhounds, looking up through the green leaves at the blue, blue sky — Asta Lander

To be still — Kim Collister

Not let guilt get the best of me when I choose to sit and write or read instead of do laundry, vacuum, etc. — Kolleen Harrison

Write bad poetry — Lisa Carosa

Take a nap in the hammock — e’Layne Koenigsberg

Not feel guilty for doing nothing at all — Deborah Benton

Watch the sunset from the porch with my cat — Barb Skoog

Be spontaneous — Kristin Hall

Say “no” — Linda Easterley

Spend my day in pajamas — Polly Anne Burland

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Begin and end the summer with a skinny dip, preferably in the moonlight — Elizabeth Needham

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Do those things that make my heart sing â&#x20AC;&#x201D; Leonie Mercer

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PROMPT

Permission Slip

give myself permission to .

I’m letting myself say “no” to and “yes” to .

It’s OK to take some time to .

Nothing bad will happen if I allow myself to daydream about

I’m finally going to

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If Your Job is ALL YOU DO by Katie Thurmes, Co-founder of Artifact Uprising

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by Amanda Crabtree

Q: How did the Mammoth Men group begin? A: The Mammoth Men are a group of photographers of the wedding and portrait variety. We are from all over the country, from Missouri and Kansas City to Texas and California. We took our first trip together back in 2008, when we went to Mammoth Mountain, California, for a snowboarding trip. We didnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t all know each other previously, but we had all at least heard of each other. After the trip, we realized that we had so much in common that we had to keep the group going. From similar tastes in photography to the way we found the same things entertaining, we knew we had come upon a unique group. Âť

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Q: How did this trip through the American Southwest come about? A: The idea for this bus trip began when we were all attending a photography conference in Las Vegas. I had always wanted to take my family on a bus adventure, and as soon as I mentioned the idea to these guys, they were hooked. We decided on the American Southwest because there were so many different things to do and see. A large part of our trip was based on what our blog readers voted for us to do. We loved the idea of those chooseyour-own-adventure novels, and we decided to go about the trip in that way. We decided we would blog every day about our travels, and then we would present options for our blog readers to vote on â&#x20AC;&#x201D; the reason we decided to go cliff jumping at Lake Powell was because our blog readers voted that. It was a fun way to spice up the trip because we were never really sure what we would be doing on the next day. Âť

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Q: Where exactly did you go on this trip? A: We started in Las Vegas, where we took part in roller coasters and sushi. Then we spent a day in Antelope Canyon and Lake Powell, where we jumped off the cliffs at sunset. We hit Monument Valley, Utah. We stopped at a shooting range and a bowling alley. Our bus got stuck in Tres Piedras, New Mexico, which ended up being a really fun day. We also went to Alamagordo, New Mexico, and the White Sands National Monument in New Mexico. Finally, we ended in Phoenix, Arizona, where we spent a few hours at a race track. Âť

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Q: Tell us about some of your favorite parts of the trip. A: One of the most beautiful stops on our trip was the White Sands National Monument in New Mexico. It provided for some of the most fun on our trip, as well as some of the best photographs. Another one of our favorite days on the trip was in Antelope Canyon, Arizona; to get to Antelope Canyon, you have to be escorted out by Native Americans from the reservation there. It was quite the ride out there as we rode in the back of a truck and were taken off jumps so fast we didn’t know if we were going to make it out alive. It ended up being a really funny day adventure, followed by a perfect evening at Lake Powell.

Q: What are your plans for any more trips? A: Our goal is to go on roughly three trips a year, with at least one being a road trip. We’re thinking for the next time about a winter trip, where we can snowboard and snowmobile. We definitely want to do as many of these trips as we can. It really gives us a chance to step away from the computers and the studios of our everyday lives and just have a chance to have fun and be inspired. ≈

To learn more about the Mammoth Men, both the individuals and the trips, visit mammothmen.com. Look there for links to each participant’s individual website. The Mammoth Men include Nate Kaiser, Fred Egan, Justin Lyon, Michael Norwood, Kyle Barnes, Matt Sloan, Jeff Newsom, Jory Cordy, Sean Flanigan, Mark Brooke, Cameron Fngalls, and Kenny Brady.

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Make-Believe

by Kelly Letky

I believe in spring flowers on the kitchen table. I believe the moon knows all the worldâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s secrets, and if you listen, sheâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ll whisper to you in your sleep. I believe cardinals were sent to keep color alive during winter.

I believe ghosts are the physical manifestation of hope. I believe gardens are the very same thing. I believe there are 56 days in February, but every calendar is missing a page.

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PROMPT

What I believe It can be refreshing to put down on paper all that you believe — from the big to the small. Take some time to fill in these statements:

I believe I believe mountains are the keeper of silence.

even if

I believe there are 9,837 different kinds of love, each one a leaf on the deciduous tree of life.

I believe

because

I believe we all need

I believe music is the wind, whispering through those leaves. I believe in messes, beautiful, beautiful messes. I believe snowflakes are the only form of perfection. I believe light makes us grow, but darkness keeps us sane.

I believe but

I believe the most beautiful sound in the world is .

I believe forests remember every person they’ve ever encountered. I believe

I believe words are the oldest religion.

most especially

I believe I can

I believe north is the strongest direction. I believe we are all in this together, most especially those who stand alone. I believe I believe birds were the world’s first poets.

and if

I believe in spring. I believe we all have the power to . Follow Kelly Letky’s writing at mrsmediocrity.com.

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Along for

the Ride by Christine Mason Miller

here is something extraordinary about bearing witness to the unfolding of a dream. Watching the spark of an idea transform into a living, breathing, multi-dimensional force of nature has a unique way of affirming my belief in possibility, daring-do, and magical thinking. It takes a little bit of wild conjuring to pursue a bold idea and turn it into something real, and when I get to see that up close, something in me comes alive. It is as if every off-the-beaten-path dream comes equipped with an army of tiny fairies that multiply as the dream wakens, whose job involves fluttering around to everyone in the periphery and whispering,

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â&#x20AC;&#x153;See ... do you see how beautiful it can be?â&#x20AC;?

The glimmer for the idea that became Type Rider first caught Maya Stein’s attention when she spotted a bright turquoise 1960s Remington typewriter in the window of a typewriter repair shop in Amherst, Massachusetts. Within seconds, she was transported back to the home she shared with her mom, dad, and sister when she was 12 years old, when a vintage typewriter was a permanent fixture in their hallway. Over the course of two years the family typed a story, one sentence and snippet at a time. “I hadn’t thought about our typewriter in years,” she explained, “and then all of a sudden it all came flooding back. I immediately began trying to think of a reason to buy the typewriter.” After playing around with word arrangements, she came up with the moniker “Type Rider” and began envisioning an offering where participants from all walks of life had the opportunity to be part of a collaborative, creative experience. When Stein discovered the typewriter was invented in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, the idea took shape —

With a route that wound across a long string of small towns and avoided interstate highways, her plan was to set up a mobile typewriter station and invite whoever happened to pass by to sit down and type. With daily prompts such as »

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“My mother always …,” “Everything changed when …,” and “More than anything …,” she collected musings, stories, and confessions at every stop.

s, Over the course of 40 days, 1,300 miles, 10 states, and 35 campground she did what she set out to do — she cycled The Great American Poem. “I wasn’t expecting anyone else to get it,” Stein admitted, “but there were many points of connection. There was some experience of typing that resonated for everyone who sat down at the Remington.” Toward the end of her journey, she was invited to participate in Chicago’s Literary Festival, where the passion behind what had only been a kernel of an idea six months earlier really settled in. “It was hot — in the mid-90s,” Stein shared, “but the sheer volume of people who stopped by my booth to type made me realize the power of an idea. I came so close »

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Once I decided to go for it, everything fell into place.

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to not doing it — to chalking it up as a hair-brained notion and letting it go —

but a dream has its own life and

it will happen in its own way.

Once I decided to go for it, everything fell into place.” Maya Stein rolled into Milwaukee on June 13, 2012, and she rolled out for Type Rider II: The Tandem Poetry Tour on July 1, 2014, with her partner Amy Tingle. This time around they’re traveling from Boulder, Colorado, to Milwaukee, partnering up with Little Free Library to continue her traveling writing project, share more poetry, and do more typing. With a successful Kickstarter campaign — her second — and plans to build 20 new Little Free Libraries along her route, it turns out she had it right. Ideas have a life of their own, and we get to be along for the ride. Sometimes on just two wheels. ≈

Christine Mason Miller is a Santa Barbara-based artist and author who will be cheering on Maya and Amy when they finish their Type Rider II journey in Beloit, Wisconsin. You can follow her adventures at christinemasonmiller.com.

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FINDING

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by Cathryn Mezzo

PROMPT

Love Letter to Your Home Itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s so easy to get carried away daydreaming about a shiny new house, or adding space to your existing place. Home is a sacred place for many, and itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s important to embrace where you live, whether you live in a tiny studio apartment, or a sprawling, multi-level house on an expanse of land. Right now, look past the leaky faucets, or the chipped paint. Write a love letter to your home, sharing all the good that is to be found in it.

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by Christen Olivarez

ost of us figured that peer pressure would magically go away as we shifted our tassels from one side of our cap to the other. We’re adults now, independent and free. Free from not only the endless piles of homework, but also free from feeling the need to fit in with our peers. Wouldn’t it be great if that last part were true? That when we proudly hang our diploma for display we also choose to proudly display who we truly are? In this modern age, our lives are on display. We share our thoughts on Facebook and Twitter, we share our projects, outfits, and even our food on Instagram … all while hoping we’re up to snuff with everyone else. Though we’re adults now, the pressure to be popular is stronger than ever. I spend a lot of my time online looking for content for our magazines. I read blogs, peruse Pinterest, and scroll through Instagram for the majority of my day. There are a lot of creative personalities I follow and admire greatly. I admire them so much that for a while, I found myself trying to emulate them and their lives. Beauty products helped me make this realization. Yes, makeup and shampoo led me to enlightenment. I wish I could say it was a much deeper moment, but it really wasn’t. You see, as much as I love makeup (and I do!), I’m not one to spend a lot of money on it. I’m a drugstore kind of girl. Give me Cover Girl over Bobbi Brown any day. I happen to think my $5 shampoo does its job wonderfully, thank you. However, I found myself starting to “pin” costly products on my beauty board on Pinterest after seeing them originally pinned by some of my favorite bloggers. As I pinned them, I started making plans to purchase a lot of these products. I remember telling my now husband about this foundation that I wanted to buy that was over $50, but it was “so worth it!” because so-and-so said so. »

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True to his personality, he quickly asked, “Who are you? You’ve always proudly proclaimed yourself a cheap makeup girl. Is this a Pinterest thing?” (Because he’s always quick to be a little snarky regarding the site.) “No! I just want it!” I declared, a little unsure. I thought more about what he said in the next few days and sure enough he was right. My stack of books from the library was full of books recommended by bloggers … books I really didn’t want to read. My jewelry holder was getting cluttered with statement necklaces that had never been worn, but I just needed them because everyone else looked so great in them! I felt a little foolish; I was trying so hard to be just like everyone I admired online! Here’s the truth about me: I hate doing my hair, and I’m never going to touch the two (two!) curling wands I now own. I also love a good bargain and love the thrill of coming home with a bag full of make-up that I paid next to nothing for. And jewelry? I suck at it. I can’t count the number of times I’ve attempted to wear a bracelet to work only to take it off the second I start typing anything. (Oh, wait … I can count the times. All the bracelets are in my desk drawer!) 140

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As for books, I like chick lit (though I hate that it’s called that.) Give me a fluffy beach read any day. If there is anything I’ve learned this past year it’s that life is too short to be anyone but yourself. The transparency of lives the Internet has created has made it all too tempting to shift your focus away from ourselves and on to the lives of others. It’s easy to forget who you are, but with a little searching, you’re sure to find your way back to you. ≈

Christen Olivarez is Director of Publishing and Editor-in-Chief for Stampington & Company. She can almost always be found with her nose in a book in the home she shares with her husband, scruffy pup, and two kitties.

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by Jillian Lukiwski

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I love it when the dark horse wins. Actually, I love to be the dark horse. When I find myself in a dark horse position, here’s what I like to do: 1. Meet up with the folks I am competing with and be my regular curious, dorky, runty self. I am very physically unimpressive to look at so everyone pretends to not really notice me until I force them to talk to me by offering up chipper hellos and introducing than not, strangers want to impress and test the dark horse so they talk a lot about their sponsorships, make a big deal about their malamutes and generally look down in disbelief at the little brown bird dog by my side.NOTE: You can make yourself an even DA RKE R dark horse if you are the only competitor running a single dog. No one can take a single dog team seriously. Come on now. 2. I tie on my racing bib. Wait in line for the staggered start. Put on my skis. I want to have fun, but I also want to win. I want to win really badly. I want to be the best of the day. I want my dog to be celebrated. 3. When the official yells at me to start, I ski until I feel like my heart is going to fall out of my chest and my shoulders feel covered in flames. I step skate all the corners and do NOT slow down for them. I ski so fast I am on the brink of being out of control at times. I double pole relentlessly, stab the ground over and over, bend my knees, push off with at the top of my lungs — he likes my enthusiasm and digs in a little deeper when I call out. We are relentless, my dog and I. 4. When I catch a ski tip in a snow machine rut and suffer the worst arse-over-teakettle wipe out in the history of my skiing career and Tater proceeds to drag me at terminal velocity about 15 feet down the trail, face first, I get up, untangle the lines, check if I have a nosebleed and ski even harder until I reach the point of bodily fire again … 5. … then, I sustain that burning state of exertion, pass the skier who started before me, ski on, hard and fast, and four miles later I cross the finish line. And smile. Big. 6. Then I kiss my pup right between the eyes and tell him he is the fastest, strongest dog of the day. Then I hug my husband when he runs over with his cowbell and stopwatch to tell me that I crushed the competition and the nearest time to mine is nearly two-and-ahalf minutes off. 7.

Follow along with Jillian Lukiwski on her blog, thenoisyplume.com.

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Cello, Chai & the

Perfect Cupcake by Madelyn Mulvaney

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o s g n i l e e f s a w I . . y p p a h e n i n â&#x20AC;&#x153;cloud

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i n g a A n g i To Be by Bella Cirovic

ugust 2. Early morning dog walk. Way too f****** early, but still. I’m up and we shuffle out the door, greeted by this light. I stare for a minute, taking in the enormity of this profound beauty. It’s only sunlight, some might think. No. No, it’s something much bigger than that. This is the flip side of that saying: tomorrow is a new day. This is that moment when the slate is wiped clean and we get to begin again. I take one last deep breath before leading the dog back on our regular path. That was a gift, I think as we walk deeper into the woods. It is. It was. It’s the same every morning. We circle around the sun, and I get to land here each day. A gift. ≈

Bella Cirovic is a writer, a photographer, a supporter, and a connector. You can find her online at shetoldstories.com and sheisthree.com.

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Find Time to Daydream Be present. Immerse yourself in pretty. Embrace imperfection. Live beautifully. Write intently. Express yourself freely. At Stampington & Company, we are committed to providing genuine inspiration â&#x20AC;&#x201D; both visual and written. Pick up one of our artful living publications today to cultivate your creativity, and gather ideas for infusing beauty into every facet of your life.

Come be a part of our artistic adventure. Explore more at stampington.com

Submission Guidelines WANT TO BE A PART OF BELLA GRACE?

Bella Grace is a print publication devoted to discovering magic in the ordinary. Our aim is to touch the souls of our readers through beautifully penned stories and striking photographs that capture life’s beautiful adventure. At Bella Grace, we believe that:

• Every cloud has a silver lining. • An ordinary life can be an extraordinary life. • There is beauty and magic to be found everywhere. • It’s OK to embrace imperfection. • Life should be lived with a full heart and open eyes.

Bella Grace is currently seeking submissions from writers and photographers who share these same beliefs. WHAT WE ARE LOOKING FOR Narratives We are currently looking for original narratives and poetry that focus on the idea that “Life is a beautiful adventure.” Submitted work can be about simple pleasures, life lessons learned, slowing down, embracing your authentic self, and more. Written submissions can include accompanying photography, but we will also pair writers up with photographers if necessary. Photography Picture submissions should capture the spirit of Bella Grace. They should depict simple moments, bits of romance, feelings of happiness, etc. Photography can be submitted on its own and will be considered for use with narratives or as the background for some of the quotes featured throughout the book. Designed Quotes Throughout each issue of Bella Grace are beautifully designed quotes. Photographers, graphic designers, illustrators, and artists of all types are invited to submit their own designed quotes. They can include photography, typography, hand-lettering, and more. Bella Grace is released on a semiannual basis, in the summer, and in the winter. Submissions are accepted on an ongoing basis, but submissions for specific issues much be received on or before these deadlines:

SUMMER 2015 ISSUE — JANUARY 15, 2015 WINTER 2016 ISSUE — JULY 15, 2015

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IDEAS TO GET YOU STARTED We are happy to receive general submissions, but in case you need a few ideas to get you started, we are also looking for responses (photographic or written or both) to the following prompts: For the Love of Print It’s no secret that the Bella Grace staff loves print magazines (and of course, delicious books too!). We’re hoping to have our readers chime in and share their love of print publications with us. Do you have a story about choosing print over digital? Have you found a way to marry the two? What is it exactly that you love about print magazines and books? Small, Random Acts of Kindness It’s been said that you never know what another person might be going through, so it’s important to be kind with everyone. A small gesture, such as a flower placed on a car windshield or an anonymous note left for someone to find, can make a huge impact. For an upcoming issue of Bella Grace, we are hoping to gather as many ideas for committing random acts of kindness as we possibly can. Furthermore, if you have a story to share about the impact an act of kindness has had on you, we’d love to hear it. Sing a Song of Yourself Wouldn’t it be great to have a theme song for yourself? One that would be played as though you were in a movie? Here in our office, we’ve been asking each other what a song about them would sound like, and what lyrics it would contain. Now, we want to issue the same question to you. If someone wrote a song about you, what would the lyrics be? Super Sassy Bios One of the most challenging assignments can be to write a biography for yourself. No matter how short the requirement, the task can be daunting. While perusing blogs, we’ve spied some really clever bios, some so unique that we can’t help but feel we know that blogger. In 30 words or less, what can you say about yourself? Don’t be boring and follow the usual format. Make it fun and attention-grabbing. Spirited Selfies For some, the idea of taking a self-portrait (now known as “selfies”) can be terrifying. Many of us don’t like being on the other side of the camera. It can make us feel vulnerable, self-conscious, and downright uncomfortable. We want to see what our readers look like, though we aren’t looking for straight-on, dull headshots. Put an interesting angle on your selfie; show just a glimpse of yourself; capture the essence of who you are.

SUBMISSION REQUIREMENTS All digital submissions should be sent to bellagrace@stampington.com. Please note that if accepted for publication, photographs and illustrations will be needed as hi-res images (300 dpi, at least 6” x 6”). It is imperative that they are saved in the proper manner in order for our graphic designers to work with them. If you use a digital camera, check your settings before taking photos to ensure you are saving the best-quality images possible. If you cannot provide large enough photos, we may not be able to print your photo, no matter how much we like it. You may also send a CD with your high-resolution images or narratives to STAMPINGTON & COMPANY: Editor, Bella Grace 22992 Mill Creek, Suite B Laguna Hills, CA 92653 With all submissions, please include your name and mailing address. We need your mailing address so that we can send you a complimentary issue of the magazine in which your submission is published. Failure to follow all submission requirements may result in your work not being considered. Sometimes, something submitted for one issue may be better suited for an upcoming issue. Other times, submissions are forwarded for consideration to the editors of our sister publications. For these reasons we may hold your sample for an extended period of time — 9–12 months is common. In the meantime, if you move, please send a postcard or email to the editor with your new address. All samples, queries, and correspondence should be sent to the Editor, Bella Grace, 22992 Mill Creek, Suite B, Laguna Hills, CA 92653. The editor also welcomes brief email queries: bellagrace@stampington.com. No telephone calls, please. Stampington & Company only accepts original submissions for publication consideration. All images used in submissions must be copyright free. Any techniques featured in submissions that are not the artist’s own must be attributed to the proper instructor, book, artist, workshop, etc. It is the responsibility of the submitting artist to ensure that no copyright infringement has occurred and that all submitted work is their own. Stampington & Company will not accept simultaneous submissions. While your work is under consideration we ask that you do not submit the same idea to competing Web or print publishers. Likewise, artwork that has already been featured in other competing publications or sites will not be accepted. Publishing on your personal blog is permitted, but we ask that you adhere to our reproduction guidelines. Any questions can be directed to our editorial staff.

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Prepping for Print

MAC OR PC

PHOTO SHOP

Making sure your photos are large enough for the pages of Bella Grace

What you need to know: Computer screens and printed magazine pages have

Getting the Software

different requirements when it comes to image resolution. A photo that appears to be huge on your monitor, may in fact be only a couple of inches wide when printed on paper.

This is a good option if you already own Photoshop or Photoshop Elements; this program does not come standard and must be purchased, however it is widely regarded as the best photo-editing tool.

So how can you tell if your images are large enough?

Instructions

This guide will walk you through the process of converting your images to 300 pixels/ dots per inch (ppi or dpi), the desired resolution for print. Once you change the resolution, you’ll be able to see image dimensions (in inches, cm, or mm) that will give you an accurate idea of how large your photo will be when printed on paper. Please refer to the table below for our requirements.

Open Photoshop, then go to File>Open and select your image. Now go to Image>Image Size. A box will open like the one below.

What you will need:

Aside from your digital photo file and your computer, you will need image editing software. To get started, select one of the three programs on the next page — choose according to your operating system and/or what is available to you.

IMAGE REQUIREMEN TS width

height

r e s o lu t i o n

Preferred for articles

8 . 5"

1 1"

300

ppi

Minimum for articles

300

ppi

Preferred for banners

any

300

ppi

If the resolution box already reads 300 ppi, you’re done — just compare the image dimensions with our requirements (listed on Page 1). If the resoultion is lower than 300 ppi, read on.

TIPS & TROUBLESH OOTI NG I’ve followed the steps shown on the next page, and determined my photo is too small to meet your requirements. What can I do? Unfortunately we can’t enlarge a small photo without compromising image quality. We can work with it to an extent, but it needs to be as close as possible to the preferred sizes above. If you’re working with an image you pulled from your blog or Flickr account, go back to the image file that came straight off the camera — perhaps in the process of editing and uploading the image was inadvertently resaved at a smaller size. Can I use image editing software that isn’t mentioned in this guide? Yes. However not all image editing software has the capabilities you will need. Check to see if your favorite image editing program has an image resizing dialogue box similar to those shown on the next page. It is important that it diplays resolution (dpi/ppi) and dimensions (height and width, in inches and pixels).

Make sure the Resample Image box is unchecked. This is the most important step.

What are some possible reasons my photos are too small? First take a look at your camera settings. Most cameras have different photo quality options (usually small, medium or large) that determine the size of the photos they output. In general it’s a good idea to use the largest setting. Next take a look at how you are storing and editing your photos — especially if you use sites on the Internet for either of these needs. Get informed about how the sites you use resize and alter your photos. For example, a free Flickr account will not store your original, high-resolution image, but only smaller web-friendly versions of the photo (not adequate for print). Similarly, the Picnik photo-editing site, is set to automatically resize a large photo to make editing over the internet a faster experience. In some cases there are ways around these issues (for example, a Flickr Pro account will save the original photo you upload from your computer), but the takeaway here is the importance of getting educated about the tools you are using. Read the FAQ section on your favorite photo sites, and test things out yourself by using the process on the next page. 154

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Now type “300” into the Resolution box. The width and height dimensions should change. Take note of these dimensions and compare them to our requirements on Page 1. Click OK, then save your photo. For instructions on different programs, please visit http://stampington.com/calls-and-challenges#gra

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Photo Credits pg. 6 TODAY IS GIFT Sylvia Stefanova silviya-simplelife.blogspot.com

pg. 42 THE LOVELY LIST Jo Fletcher lostinthehaze.com

pg. 12 PLEASURE, PLEASE! FOUR TIPS FOR A MORE SEDUCTIVE LIFE Jovo Jovanovic stocksy.com/JovoJVNVC

pg. 46 THINGS TO DO WHEN YOUâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;RE SAD Johanna Love stampington.com

pg. 15 ONE-HOUR ADVENTURES: SATIATING THE ARTISTIC THIRST Alessandra Cave alessandracave.com pg. 20 THE ART OF THE GRATITUDE LIST Madelyn Mulvaney madelynmulvaney.com pg. 24 SHE SET OUT: THE EVOLUTION OF SHE IS THREE Bella Cirovic shetoldstories.com Deb Taylor diddebdoit.blogspot.com Jennifer DeVille Catalano jenniferdeville.com pg. 32 CELEBRATION WITH A SMALL C D. Smith Kaich Jones emmatree.com pg. 36 ORDINARY SPARKLING MOMENTS Christine Mason Miller christinemasonmiller.com

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pg. 48 MEADOWLARK Jillian Lukiwski thenoisyplume.com pg. 52 I URGE YOU Whitney Justesen whitneyjustesen.com pg. 53, center image FALLING IN LOVE WITH YOUR NEIGHBORHOOD Bella Cirovic shetoldstories.com pg. 53 Elizabeth Duvivier provylove.com pg. 61 HOW WE BREATHE IN CIRCLES Hannah Marcotti hannahmarcotti.com pg. 62 THE THINGS WE KEEP Lumina Images stocksy.com/lumina

pg. 64 DANGEROUS AND NOBLE THINGS Whitney Justesen whitneyjustesen.com

pg. 86 THE SIMPLE CHARM OF A CLOTHESLINE Johanna Love stampington.com

pg. 66 LIVING YOUR BEST LIFE AT ANY AGE Susannah Conway susannahconway.com

pg. 92 STEPPING OUT OF MY OWN WAY susannahconway.com

pg. 67 & 68 Susan Tuttle susantuttlephotography. com pg. 69−71 Susannah Conway susannahconway.com pg. 72 Susan Tuttle susantuttlephotography. com pg. 74 HOW SWEET THE SOUND Eduard Bonnin stocksy.com/bonninstudio pg. 76 MORE PAGES, FEWER SCREENS Jovo Jovanovic stocksy.com/JovoJVNVC pg. 78 I DANCE FOR ME Theresa Smerud theresasmerud.com pg. 80 HERE: THE SACREDNESS OF PLACE D. Smith Kaich Jones emmatree.com

pg. 136 FINDING HOME Dianne Poinski diannepoinskiblog.com pg. 138 THE PITFALLS OF (ADULT) PEER PRESSURE Lumina Images stocksy.com/lumina

pg. 98 THE LITTLE THINGS Jenny Prikockis pg. 100 A PASSIONATE LIFE Madelyn Mulvaney madelynmulvaney.com pg. 103 LEARN TO PAUSE Tricia Whitmer tricialeephotography.com pg. 108 SOUP & RAIN AND REAL PAPER BOOKS emmatree.com pg. 110 MY CABINET OF CURIOSITIES: A PECULIAR COLLECTION Olga Siedlecka pg. 114 PERMISSION GRANTED Erica Schneider acresofhopephotography.com pg. 118 IF YOUR JOB IS ALL YOU DO artifactuprisingblog.com pg. 128 MAKE-BELIEVE Kelly Letky mrsmediocrity.com

pg. 130 ALONG FOR THE RIDE Christine Mason Miller christinemasonmiller.com

pg. 141 I WISH Whitney Justesen whitneyjustesen.com pg. 142 NOTES ON HOW TO BE THE DARK HORSE Jillian Lukiwski thenoisyplume.com pg. 144 CELLO, CHAI, & THE PERFECT CUPCAKE Madelyn Mulvaney madelynmulvaney.com pg. 148 DON’T SETTLE Rafal Szkudlarek flickr.com/ people/26700938@N05 pg. 149 TO BEGIN AGAIN Bella Cirovic shetoldstories.com pg. 154 LIFE IS A DARING ADVENTURE Madelyn Mulvaney madelynmulvaney.com pg. 158 I BELIEVE Kait Dean stocksy.com/kait

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About the Publisher S

ince 1994, Stampington & Company has been a leading source of information and inspiration for arts and crafts lovers around the world. Launched with a small line of rubber art stamps by President and Publisher Kellene Giloff, the company has since expanded to include over 30 bestselling publications.

“When it comes to the art of crafting, no one does it better than Stampington & Company.” — Mr. Magazine™ Samir Husni

PUBLICATIONS Known for its stunning full-color photography and step-by-step instructions, the company’s magazines provide a forum for both professional artists and hobbyists looking to share their beautiful handmade creations, tips, and techniques with one another. Since its 1997 debut, Somerset Studio has become the flagship publication within the industry and attracts a large, devoted following of readers seeking the latest innovations in paper arts and mixed-media. Somerset Life is a quarterly publication filled with inspirational ideas for infusing your daily life with simple pleasures, art, romance, creativity, and beauty. Artful Blogging connects with the most awe-inspiring bloggers across the globe, sharing their mesmerizing photographs, moments of self-discovery, tales of friendships, and much more. GreenCraft Magazine honors and inspires those who find artistic, functional, and eco-friendly applications for normally discarded resources. The success of Where Women Create — a collaboration with Jo Packham — has warranted a popular cooking edition called Where Women Cook and a groundbreaking title that divulges tangible tips for artisans and business owners: Where Women Create BUSINESS. Art Journaling — the first publication of its kind — features stand-out pages, inspiration, and thought-provoking prompts for achieving the freest form of self-expression in your own journal. Mingle is an incredibly unique publication that explores the art of entertaining — from various types of intimate, creative gatherings to largerscale art retreats. Somerset Home beautifully blends together "Somerset-esque" art with functional, everyday items. The creative living ideas and décor projects are designed to enlighten, organize, and beautify any dwelling place. Belle Armoire provides the very best in handmade wearable arts. Several successful jewelry, handbag, and altered clothing titles have taken off from this concept and offer the most fashionable and functional wearable accessories. For more information on publications, please visit: stampington.com/publications SOCIAL MEDIA PRESENCE Stampington & Company provides daily doses of inspiration and a place for likeminded artists to connect on their Facebook and Twitter accounts, which currently have more than 71,000 followers combined. In addition to providing the latest crafting trends on their creative blog, Somerset Place, the company also shares visual inspiration on Pinterest and Instagram and continues to send out weekly and monthly e-newsletters with artist tips, special sales, and free how-to project ideas to their loyal subscriber base of more than 50,000 creative minds. With more than 50 videos available on their YouTube channel, Stampington & Company shares unique tutorials that demonstrate popular crafting skills on a monthly basis. LOOKING AHEAD We are very excited to announce the launches of three new titles, including Bella Grace, in 2014. Released this May, Willow and Sage shares more than 70 unique recipes, uses, and beautiful packaging ideas for making your own homemade bath and body products. Digital Inspiration, is another unique new book-azine that responds to the growing demand for digitally altered artwork and photo manipulations. For more information on how to get published, please visit: stampington. com/calls-and-challenges

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“And above all, watch with GLITTERING EYES the

WHOLE WORLD

because the G R E A T E S T

around

SECRETS

are always H I D D E N in the most

unlikely places.

Those who don't believe in magic will

NEVER

”

find it.

— Roald Dahl

you