travels || camping at nehalem

I've been camping at Nehalem Bay since I was about 16.  Just about every year since.  The first time I went was actually against my parents will.  Nehalem is located on the Oregon Coast and it was a 6 hour drive away from where we were living at the time.  My friends, my sister and I all told our parents that we would camp at a place about an hour away instead, but when it was time to leave- we all looked at each other and said "fuck it lets go to the coast".  It was incredibly magical and we never told our parents.  At least I don't think we did, and from what I can tell, no one is still eternally grounded.  Early September is the best time to go, but impossible to last-minute reserve; unfortunately i'm not much of a planner...

We visited during a windy weekend, but it was still sunny and warm.  Ian was looking forward a first attempt at salt-roasted branzini over the campfire, which was- as you can imagine, amazing.  It seems a bit extravagant to bring this camping, but was totally worth beating every ounce of egg white by hand.

After Nehalem, we drove along the coastline up to Seaside and Canon Beach to check out Cave Rock and the endless salt water taffy shoppes.  We crossed over the Astoria Bridge and winded back up to Seattle, where I am now, writing this post.

So what I'm really trying to say is this: go to the ocean, get sand in everything, eat too many s'mores, collect seashells, take the long way home; and for god's sake take photos.

artists || the cake baker

  Have you ever baked a cake before?  I mean really baked a cake... no boxes, no tubes, no mixes.  Its a real feat.  When you're done, someone should hand you an award. (I guess the reward, is the cake, am I right?) This is where I confess to you that I am not a baker.  I like to cook.  I like to sprinkle here and there and substitute this for that.  I believe a wise Mother (my Mother, in fact) once said that baking is a science.  This couldn't be more true, and who am I to argue with my Mother?  Depending on the cake you decide to, shall I say, conquer...  one extra fold can ruin the whole batter and there you are, up shit creek with two sugary deflated layers.

So what does all of this have to do with photography?  Well, I wanted to eat cake and why not photograph the process.  My good friend Riley and I found this recipe, and started out on a half-day journey of picking up necessary ingredients (must haves, like a good bottle of Rosé) carefully reading the instructions, watching a horror movie while the cake layers cooled and of course, my constant staging of whipped cream and hazelnuts (and by staging, i mean eating).  But in all honesty, it came out beautifully and we had the forks waiting as soon as I shot the last photo.  

A big thanks to Riley for making this cake around my lens. You're a lovely soul, darling girl.