maui

i am on my way home from an epic girls trip. husband surprised me about two weeks ago – he shared the news that he’d been planning a trip to maui with six of my girlfriends. the main purpose of the trip was to give me some relaxation after one of my craziest years so far plus celebrate that i am almost-cancer-free. many of you possibly followed along via instagram, and you will see a few of those pictures again in this post. the pictures speak for themselves – we enjoyed everything that maui has to offer, adventure was our theme. my friend jenn has a home in maui and she was our tour guide, and host. we all agree, it could not have been a better week. the most gorgeous weather too! so hot and perfect.

what seeps out of these pictures is a deeply rooted friendship amongst seven women who cherish one another. all differences aside. bonds that are unbreakable. we have twenty-seven children between the seven of us, and we’ve survived years of challenges and happiness no matter the space that separates us. we’ve accumulated endless hours of laughter – we can be ridiculous in the best of ways.

during this trip, we had a theme song for this stage of our lives – brave by sara bareilles. i am going to continue this post with the words of the song…

You can be amazing
You can turn a phrase into a weapon or a drug
You can be the outcast

Or be the backlash of somebody’s lack of love
Or you can start speaking up
Nothing’s gonna hurt you the way that words do
And they settle ‘neath your skin

Kept on the inside and no sunlight
Sometimes a shadow wins

But I wonder what would happen if you

Say what you wanna say
And let the words fall out
Honestly I wanna see you be brave

With what you want to say
And let the words fall out
Honestly I wanna see you be brave

I just wanna see you
I just wanna see you
I just wanna see you
I wanna see you be brave

Everybody’s been there, everybody’s been stared down
By the enemy
Fallen for the fear and done some disappearing
Bow down to the mighty

Don’t run, stop holding your tongue
Maybe there’s a way out of the cage where you live
Maybe one of these days you can let the light in
Show me how big your brave is

Say what you wanna say
And let the words fall out
Honestly I wanna see you be brave

With what you want to say
And let the words fall out
Honestly I wanna see you be brave

Innocence, your history of silence
Won’t do you any good
Did you think it would?
Let your words be anything but empty
Why don’t you tell them the truth?

Say what you wanna say
And let the words fall out
Honestly I wanna see you be brave

With what you want to say
And let the words fall out
Honestly I wanna see you be brave

I just wanna see you
I just wanna see you
I just wanna see you
I wanna see you be brave

***

crank up the song, here. collect good friends, and be brave. xo.

{photo credits: moi, becky kimball, and jenn granum.}

Posted in friends, girls trip, Hawaii, jane, travels | 12 Comments »

2.4.13

Alt Design Summit, SLC 2013 :: find your voice

this was my third year to attend Altitude Design Summit {affectionately alt} and it was an experience totally different than my first two years. to start, it’s like going home now – not just because it’s held in one of my home states, utah, where i lived for twenty-two years. but because alt. includes a community of creatives i feel connected to. alt is a group of people just as obsessed as i am about design, parties, holidays, fashion, food, creating, motherhood, and more. and we tolerate each others craziness!

i attend alt because of this community and the wealth of inspiration i find there. this year, as i sat in classes i kept hearing a similar theme over and over again. make life happen. create your own story. find your voice. be honest. content is king. know what you want out of life and run like hell at it.

while i believe i work passionately towards creating the life i want – creating the life our family wants. i also realize that i shelter myself and my true feelings from the majority of people around me, and the public. especially here on seejaneblog. i remain silent about a lot of things that could be shared. shared respectively.

a new goal for 2013: find my voice. i’m going to create my story. be more honest.

Stefan Sagmeister probably needs no introduction, but just in case… he’s an austrian born, new york based designer. i did not know stefan or realize what designs he was connected to until this month, and at alt I got to hear him speak. he talked about the in’s and out’s of happiness – it was fascinating, and to be completely candid, life-changing for me. he, and his “filming accomplice”, david hillman curtis worked together to make a beautiful film, called the happy film. we only got to see 12 minutes of it {it will be shown in film festivals later this year}, but what we saw was amazing! The idea is that “in the course of a year, sagmeister will experiment with various practices that are widely touted as increasing one’s happiness: meditation, cognitive therapy, and pharmaceuticals.” tt was so interesting, touching, inspiring, and don’t even get me started on the typography!*

what made stefan so incredible was that he knew what he wanted out of life, he is genuine. he has found his voice.

{moi, my darling friends: shelby russell – owner of soel boutique in provo, utah and mindy gledhill – the talented & beautiful indie-music artist}

another keynote speaker was katie, of color me katie. she considers herself a professional fun maker. at the end of her talk about making people happy, she told us to find the balloons under our chairs. katie turned the design summit in to a spontaneous balloon party:

{moi, shelby, bestie becky kimball, and emily frame of the new-er blog small fry!}

three cheers for the founders, organizers, speakers, and all the sponsors of alt for helping it reach its full potential! i look forward to working with many of the sponsors this year.

starting right now, i am going to push myself. instill a new passion to continually raise the bar and accept that failing at times is part of the game. it’s how quick you pick yourself back up that really matters. i am going to be on a mission to find my voice. right now, due to the terrible-terrible air quality in utah (i am still hiding in bed as often as possible) i am literally trying to find my voice that went missing when an awful head cold started on my last flight home. nine days ago. what is up with the inversion in utah this winter? ugh…

we’re all disguised. you can’t find the peace you’re looking for without a fight. {inspiring song lyrics via}

want to see more? here are a few Alt summit reviews i recommend: Design Mom: one,two, and three, justin hackworth, jasmine star, *the jealous curator, the paper mama, and creature comforts.

{pictures courtesy of justin hackworth, on the alt summit flickr stream.}

Posted in alt. design summit, jane, travels, utah | 7 Comments »

12.26.12

cabo san lucas, part IV

{this is the last post for cabo san lucas…}

our last day{s} is always a little sad in cabo. we all mentally prepare to go home. do you do that on vacation? the last day or two, do your thoughts return to what-needs-to-be-done-at-home-or-work mode and you start to abandon the carefree spirit of vacation? cabo is so special to us, that none of us want it to end…

for some reason, we usually stay one to three+ days longer than our friends who go with us… so, the day they leave is a total downer.

KJ cheered himself up with three vanilla milkshakes after his buddies left…

then, we have some family time to fill with our favorite last activities. we try to play tennis while in mexico so myla gets a little practice time. more or less, our family tennis time involves myla being e-x-t-r-e-m-e-l-y patient with us while we make complete fools of ourselves on the court.

correction: big papi is good. the rest of us, not so much. these photos are by kj, he was our sports-photographer for a few minutes…

once a dancer, always a dancer:
{i LOVE this picture}

until next year…

{photos by me, Jane Rhodes and KJ Rhodes}

Posted in cabo mexico, family adventures, friends, husband, jane, kiana, KJ, myla, sela, tennis, travels | No Comments »

12.26.12

cabo san lucas, part III

{making a tribe.}

while in cabo i was reading and looking through the latest edition of kinfolk. i felt an immense connection to the words by rebecca parker payne when she talks about making a tribe.

so…. for this post, i am doing something new – i am going to quote her entire article, with our pictures. they don’t relate. and yet they do relate. she talks about traditional childhood memories in respect to hunting down the perfect christmas tree in the blue ridge mountains. my pictures are from a few of my favorite days in cabo san lucas, one of our holiday traditions. we have been going to mexico for the holidays, or a family vacation at least once a year {sometimes twice} for ten years this year. we have not only come to adore our time south of the border, but this place gives us something to remember our time by, something to look forward to, something to have that is special, something ours. enjoy.

***

Sometime in early December, somewhere within the hollers of the Blue Ridge Mountains, you could find us, wandering and weaving through long lines of pines and evergreens. Four siblings, our faithful dogs, and daring captains: Mom and Dad. Our finest yearly tradition was born from the pinnacle of our mother and father’s parenting career — their discovery of Christmas tree farms deep along the sloping ridges of the mountains. A mere two hours from our home, the hillside farms were light-years from the commercialism and consumerism that we lived among.

So every year we pilgrimaged to the Blue Ridge, to climb a mountainside and bring home the war-won tree. Our father, with verbal encouragement from his brood of children, pulled the tree down the hill, across a tiny creek, and perched it like an arbor trophy on the top of our faithful Suburban. It would be hailed “A Christmas victory!” by my father, despite the frozen, mittened hands, the carsick dogs, and the arduous process.

Traditions peppered our childhood lives, and the holidays meant they were only more salient. Something to remember our time by, something to look forward to, something to have that was special — something ours.

Our holiday season was characterized by these wild expressions of togetherness. In our tree travails, in our trips to Colonial Williamsburg to eat in the fire-lit taverns of yesteryear, in baking our apple-sausage quiches, in our matching Christmas bell necklaces. My siblings and I jingled as we danced through the holiday season.

We grew up unaware that our yearly routines were sowing and tending traditions. The rituals engulfed and enveloped us, and our youthful naiveté told us that this was just life — how our holidays were done. Only with age, and a healthy dose of selflessness, have we seen that this rhythm of delight and anticipation is the careful and thoughtful product of a family or parents that want to experience life together.

Because now, so much of our holidays are only remembering. I remember the food, I remember the traditions, and I remember the traditions revolving around food. I remember a few of the gifts, but with the most clarity I remember caroling on the back of a trolley, and tenderly pressing a cookie cutter into soft dough. I remember the brunches and the dinners, I remember the stillness, and I remember that feeling of warmth, closeness, unbounded joy. We number our memories, rewind and replay the moments that gave our holidays their meaning.

Now that I live independently, away from my childhood home, I find myself expecting the same rhythms, that the ones that comprised my youthful holidays, to be the footprint for this year’s upcoming season. I remember it all, and still I want it to be the same. But things have changed. I haven’t lived with my parents for years, which means they are no longer the leaders they once were of my holiday season. I do not have the abundant free time I did as a child, with which to make snowmen out of laundry detergent, or to hand-dip candles.

And this is where we are now, in this particular age. We are always busy, always moving from this to that, here to there. We are young and filled. We understand why we had traditions, and should be thankful for them. We can even feel a draw to mourn the end of childhood traditions. All is right and expected of our growth and maturation, but we do not stay here. We are adults, and we are, in our best selves, independent, vibrant, thriving, and capable.

Holidays can take us in two directions. We can buy the presents, go to the parties, open the presents, clean the tissue paper from the floor. A dutiful ascension to an idea, a complacency to the expected. A casual nod to the time-honored celebrations, created outside of us. and we drift around each other in this harried time of giving and getting, making and doing.

Or, we can take the traditions into our homes, draw them through the sieve of our personalities, sprinkle them with whimsy, mold them to our own relationships. In doing so, we hold a respectful ownership of the season, where it cannot exist outside of us. Indeed, we are the daring captains of wonder and nearness in this time. And through our efforts, the holidays become intensely intimate, a seasonal experience tailored and defined by us who celebrate — our friends, our families, and our own children.

This is how we measure the depth of our bated breath. This is how we calculate the expectancy of our hearts. This existence of our families and friendships are not entirely dependent on the existence of such activities and traditions, but the sustenance of such rituals is the soil in which we cultivate a deeper sense of commitment, history, and meaning. A group of casual friends becomes a community, a family becomes a tribe.

A few months ago, I started a new family altogether. A small family with tender roots. A family of just me and my man. A man with his own traditions, his own idiosyncratic holiday routines from growing up. He is the grown man that is memorialized in family photos up till about four years ago, sitting on his parents’ stairs with his brothers, each sibling wearing matching pajamas. And although we don’t have the same traditions, we both understand their role in making meaning of the holidays and our lives together. And we want to be a tribe.

In this place of adulthood, as a new family and as one-day future parents, we will cultivate a reason for hope and joy in all of our holidays seasons to come. I think it will involve long tables of food, homemade eggnog, and cranberry pies. It will involve storytelling and song singing. It will involve days of baking, and days of decorating. It will involve quietly lighting advent candles, and loudly spinning records. It will involve our community of friends and family, and it will be extravagant and hilarious and ours. It may even invalid a borrowed tradition, a hauling of a tree down the side of a mountain.