Winter Pause

Some pictures, some thoughts.


We’ve had some dreamy snow days lately.  Inches and inches.  Every time it melts, more just piles on.

I love any excuse to do less.  Currently reading Mansfield Park and In the Skin of a Lion and Quiet….I am only truly happy when I have adequate time to read.  Just ask my boyfriend.


Pomegranate is surely the most time consuming fruit.  And yet these sweet rubies are always worth the effort.


And might I now introduce my first loaf of homemade bread?  From this lovely website.  I was absurdly excited by this.  Bread in a dutch oven.  A simple yet immediately gratifying experience.


And yet, I confess, even after this celebration – these winter days can feel so endless (and hopeless and dark at times).

But I know I’ll be missing them terribly once I’m gone.

I always do.

These are my last weeks in Wisconsin before moving to California and I’m trying to savor the quiet, the countryside (the red barns, the buried fields), the Midwestern friendliness (like our neighbor who just recently lost his wife but who still plows out our driveway for us after every big snow). Yet so often my nervousness crowds its way into my days.

I can’t help but think that I started this blog not only because I want to track my time in LA as I forge a career in film, but also because I have so much terrible uncertainty about LA.


I was talking to my boyfriend the other night about how I used to always envision myself hanging out in Colorado in my twenties as a ski bum of some sort and living in the woods and hiking…all that.  Well, I’m 26.  I haven’t done it yet, but I still could.

But for right now, I’m choosing LA.  I’m choosing Ambition.  And I start to wonder – is this the time, now that I’m technically sort of in my “late twenties” that I start to realize that every path is not available?

I have to choose.  Choosing LA feels like the most direct choice I’ve made in some time.

I realize I can always go back to Colorado and live more simply, in the mountains, away from what I anticipate (and remember all too clearly and painfully) as the hustle and shuffle and pushiness of California.  All the money it costs, all the awful drivers, all the edginess.


This is Finn – no edginess here, man.

Everywhere I go, everywhere I’ve been these past years, all over Europe and New York, every place stings and reminds me – I am so so very Midwestern.  Or so Middle American.  Whatever.  I am too friendly for my own good, I smile far too much.  Not that I’m not street smart, but I do have higher expectations of politeness for people.  And I don’t believe in dressing up too much.  My hair is always kind of messy.  I’d always rather be in jeans and cowboy boots (okay, that last bit is really more me than Midwestern).

But as comfortable as I am in the country, I do still ache for city, for culture, for better cafes and vegetarian restaurants and indie movies and theater.

And I miss California, I’ll admit it.  Bits at least.  The ocean.  The redwoods (yeah, I know, I’m not going back north, but still).  The farmer’s markets.  My quiet life with my sweetheart.  It’s all waiting.

And the truth is also – if I was in Colorado, or anywhere other than LA, I would wonder, what if?  And I would think about everyone out there, pursuing their dreams, pursuing my dream.


So that’s the second reason for the blog – to stay grounded, to stay rooted in the earth, in simplicity, despite these huge goals I have.  I’m still so unsure about this thing, but I’m realizing lately that one of my deepest concerns for the blog just might be that wavering place where ambition and integrity intertwine.

How do I create great work and not be broke?  How do I work my ass off and still have that sweet herb garden and bluegrass music in my life?

I really have no idea.  I’ve been pretty broke for a while now.  And I know enough at this point now that balance doesn’t really exist – sometimes you’re working so hard you can hardly breathe, and other times you can’t bring yourself to do a damn thing besides read a good novel.  At least that’s how I work anyway.

So here I am.  Waiting to begin.  It’s terrible, but still it’s good as it is.

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