Dear Santa,

You are about to begin your travels in the sky. Spreading cheer and joy around the world. Here, in Tennessee, I'm spending time with the folks. We have thus far battled in two games of Scrabble, and two games of Yahtzee. Dad and I picked out a tree that Mom and I then decorated (Mom more so than me, plus it was fun to watch her reach the higher branches with the decorations attached to cooking tongs). Dad proved Mom and I are the same height. When I was adamant I must be taller, he had us stand back to back and balanced the Scrabble boards on both our heads and exclaimed, "You're the same height!" This is my family.

It's been awhile since I last wrote, and a lot has taken place. Between the decision to move to a new state and start new, the process of finding myself in a new city, and all the dreams I still have for myself at the moment and in the future, life has become a bit of a whirlwind in the best possible way. There are too many people to thank individually for the new adventure I find myself on, but I would like to share a few things with you before you make your travels.

As you are going over your list and checking it twice, please consider providing a little extra cheer to the Delta agent who performed a holiday miracle of finding a reasonably priced and time efficient flight when my flight on Frontier had been canceled. He truly made my Christmas by allowing me the time to spend with my folks.

Also, make a note that Jamie and Isaac deserve a few extra treats to brighten the coming year. They opened their home and personalities to me. It is such a joy to find people who want the best for others, who embrace the need for change, and are supportive of another individual and welcome that person's individuality (even when that person's individuality consists of a 37 year old who believes in Santa).

When you find yourself in the sky above Bakersfield, CA can you make your sleigh bells ring just a bit louder so Sis can remember all those times in our youth we waited for you to arrive. She'll know I'm thinking about her that way, and I wouldn't have been able to make the leap I did this year without her support and encouragement.

If you head to Portland, OR after CA it would be greatly appreciated if you could stop in and say hi to Sinatra--maybe you could leave her a small toy mouse. I miss her curling up with me in bed, and she has been the best of cat for the 16+ years since she chose to be in my life.

To all my friends in SLC, provide them with the gift of a blanket of snow so they can cuddle up together. Maybe provide the hot coco for them to sip on while they tell stories and memories of all the times spent together (I'd say to leave them High West Whiskey, but I don't want you to get in trouble with any of the strange Utah liquor laws--wouldn't that be a scene--Santa fined by the UABC).

As for when you arrive tonight in Tennessee, the folks and I will be finishing our traditional fondue dinner. I know I'm not supposed to see you or your sleigh, but this Christmas all I ask is that you bring my family a lasting memory. Maybe, while we're going over a story of a Christmas past shared together, your reindeer could entice a doe deer into the back yard for us to gaze in wonder and be at peace.

That is what you have brought me every Christmas. A moment of peace to be with the people I love, to say thank you to friends who have become family. For that Santa, I am always in your debt. Thank you for all the years (and many more to come) of believing in the good people can bring, and the smiles and laughter shared with all those who have been a part of my life.

And now I must sign off. Mom wants me to bake my Ginger Snap cookies. I'll save a few for you to enjoy tonight. Safe travels Santa.

Merry Christmas!

Denver

Three Weeks and Counting...

For nineteen years, I have called Salt Lake City my home. In three weeks, the car will be packed. The front seat will hold a pillow for my sixteen year old cat to curl up and rest, my major furniture will be stored at a friends house (along with maybe six boxes of books, the other six I feel need to travel the road with me) and I'll be on a twelve hour drive that will be the beginning of a new adventure. (As a bookworm I call this my new chapter.)

To answer all the questions up front:
No, I don't have an apartment as of yet.
Nor do I have a job (again I stress), YET.
I am not doing this because of a beau.
I am not going to where the young retire to stay in the woods and live off the land. Though, the idea of farm to table is definitely something I look forward to partake in more.

No, to all the questions people ask, and when I answer a final question is presented in baffled tones, "So, why are you doing this?"

True, Salt Lake City is my home. There will always be a part of me that loves this city more than anywhere else I go. I began living here before I graduated high school from that remote rural town in the North East. I received my first college degree and met my best friend going to Westminster College. I found many friendships here, and rekindled old ones. I found love and loss in Salt Lake City. I took a leap and was able to attain my second degree by living in this state. I gained experience in all the professions I have held, though none more so than the last two organizations I have worked for. Salt Lake City gave me an apartment I have lived in for fourteen years, and I've become so familiar with the city streets that I have no problem dance-walking around this city until the wee hours of the morning.

So why am I moving to Portland, Oregon?

As a woman who finds herself to be strong and independent, I have always told myself I can make it no matter where I am. I guess it's time for me to remove the security blanket and prove this to myself. I want that challenge, and heading back towards the North West where my life began seems appropriate for some reason.

This isn't easy. I'm nervous and scared (for lack of a better description) shitless. That being said, I'm also excited about what this change of environment might provide. The opportunities. And yes, Mom, I can hear your voice now ringing in my ears, "We have options."

I'm excited to see how I react. I know there will be times I have to stick my neck out. I know it will take hard work to accomplish all I feel Portland provides.

I have three weeks. Three weeks and counting to enjoy the home I have loved for the last nineteen years. Three weeks and counting to anticipate the journey to a new fireside.

Three weeks... And counting...

UAF... You are my Festival Family

Four and an half years... Five Festivals... A family I will always cherish.

Here are a few things you might not know about the Utah Arts Festival:

1. It takes a full year (if not longer) to plan the four day event each June.
2. There are six staff members, over 50 coordinators, and 1,000+ volunteers that make the Festival.
3. It takes a full week to set-up the Utah Arts Festival.
4. Each staff member and coordinator work approximately 100 hours during the Festival week.
5. We have four days to play.
6. Two days to take down (including removing every piece of blue marking tape off the pavement).
7. There's one week to recover, before we start all over again.

Last weekend, the Utah Arts Festival celebrated its 40th anniversary with over 160 visual artists, 90 stage performances, stilt walkers from the UK (Neighbourhood Watch), and the amazing children's Art Yard, Urban Arts, and Makers tent. Having worked for this organization has been a pleasure. It's because of the fantastic work the staff members and coordinators do for this Festival, that I have the courage to set off on new adventures and build my career in a new location.

As I begin to prepare my journey to the Northwest, I want to say thank you to each and every individual who makes this Festival such an experience for the Utah community. If it was possible, I would write individual letters to each and every person. It would take over a year to write the words properly, and I feel each of you would say to experience life in the moment rather than reflect on the past.

But reflection is sometimes needed.

Thank you to Mason Fetzer, for this year's Festival moment. I felt like a fairy in Never-Never land walking through the aspen grove you painted using 3D technology.  Thank you to Henry for always seeing the vision of what this Festival is about and pushing the boundaries of Makers. Doc, you always make magic happen. Dancing to the music at this year's Festival was such a treat.

Tyler, you made it possible for me to experience more Festivals. Thank you for walking me to the First Aid tent my first year so I didn't die from heat exhaustion. To Rich Nicholes, nothing can express my true gratitude for your introduction of my performance on the Big Mouth stage on Sunday. To my Festival family, seeing the rows upon rows of purple shirts for my performance was so special to say the least (though I'm still questioning who was running the Festival during my performance). Rich thanks for always smiling and being there at the Amphitheater stage to enjoy the music. I will always cherish the sound of you singing Supermodel to me.

To the tech crew, the brew crew, the stage crew, box office, earth team, and our all mighty crab crew: the Festival wouldn't be the same without you; for that matter, I wouldn't be the same without you. Art Yard, Face Painting, and Mad Hatter, I bow to you and what you accomplish every year. Each and everyone of you have      made me smile, helped maintain my sanity, and made me realize I can make it wherever I go. You are my family!

Finally, to the amazing staff I have had the pleasure to work with for the last few years: I hope you realize how amazing I find you. Susan, it was a delight getting to know you this year. Your charisma and smile are beautiful. Tennille you are a rock and a friend. Thanks for sharing our cubbyhole together. Amanda, you are a woman to be reckoned with. I so appreciate the support and inspiration you always provide. Aimee, you are a spitfire in the best of ways. Somehow I feel you will always know (you know I'd place this in different lingo--but I'll just wait for the text). Pat, what can I say but thank you for all the laughter, the music when the office got to quiet, and the pure strength to put the Festival together.

And to Lisa. 

Lisa, Lisa, Lisa...What can I say? Your commitment, drive, and passion for this Festival are unmatched. You gave a fellow swimmer a chance, and made me feel a part of a spectacular team. Thanks for your continued
support in all I do.

To my Festival family: I will miss you! Though I feel we will see each other again, know that you are always in my heart. And it's not that far of a drive to Portland.

This is...