featured stories

Dusk at the Mountain


As a goodbye to summer, I release this blog post that has been hidden away in my drafts for so long. You could say this was the highlight of my summer because it was, in a way, the beginning all the new things that would come at us for Ready Gypset Go. Looking back to this moment, I can see how much has happened in the short months of summer, how much I have grown, and how far this adventure has taken us so far. It all may have seemed but a dream on a bucket list at one point, but I promise you, all I strive to do is make my dream my reality. It is one of my core beliefs that we are all given passions because they are our calling, and you are supposed to chase them. A much happier life comes out of finding meaning in what we do. So here’s to summer 2015… may it last in our memory and inspire us to keep on keeping on.

Salvation Mountain
Summer 2015

It’s funny how I don’t really have much of a bucket list, for being a person inclined to travel the world. I’m more of a wanderer, allowing my path to take its own course as each day unfolds. Though there are a few things I have on my travel list that I dream of experiencing, and one of those was to watch the sun set from the top of Salvation Mountain. And it was just as magical as I dreamed it would be…

Like I said in part 1 of my Salvation Mountain series, this place is full of such amazing vibes, love, and color that you can’t help but become filled with joy and love too. But as the sun went down, the air cooled, and the warm sunbaked mountain against my bare skin kept me warm, I was filled with a quiet and gracious peace. The sky was dusty lilac, and the amber sun spilled over the desert from the horizon, and across Slab City in the distance. We sat with our new friend Russ, from Coachella, who road tripped with us to Salvation Mountain. We talked about people, and life, and our pasts, and I nearly felt more alive than ever before. This beautiful moment was the end to our Coachella/California road trip, one that lasted nearly one long month, and I was finally able to take a breath and rest. I wanted the feeling of this calm bliss to last forever. We didn’t want to leave, and I pressed my back into the curve of the mountain top, unable to contain the joy from this timeless moment. I watched the brightest moon spill it’s milky light across everything. The stars were all so bright, scattered like grains of salt against the black and blue velvet night sky. You could see everything under the moonlight, like a pale alternate universe. Even our shadows stretched out long from us in the moonlight.

Sometimes during our travels we end up rushing, at the mercy of the fashion industry and the speed that it moves at. When seasons are selling points and products come and go out of stock, I often don’t get to take the time to soak in the moment because I must style and shoot and edit and publish products so quickly. When it comes down to that moment of shooting, and we are chasing the sunlight to capture those fleeting moments of golden hour, or we are location scouting, or attempting to fit multiple shoots into one trip, the beauty of it may be captured on camera, but I seem to miss out. It all goes by in a blur.

Finding the balance between working the lifestyle and living it is something I’ve been working on this summer. Taking time and living life, not just enacting it. As an artist, part of me always wants to capture the perfect scene to keep forever, and share with the world. I find photography and cinematography to be so beautiful and fulfilling. But the beauty in letting some moments slip away into nothing but the memory of your mind can have its own fulfillment. Life is a garden of experiences and you can press some of the moments and keep them in a book, and others will come and go, blossom and fade. And it’s all entirely beautiful.


Intimates: Private Arts
Skirt: Gypsy Soul Designs
Boots: Freebird
Geometric Cuff: The Shiny Mix
Feather Cuff & Ring: Good After Nine
Necklaces & Be Still Cuff: Oceanne Jewelry
Druzy & Slate Rings: Barbara C. Pellegrino