Day 7: To Abandon, To Discard, To Leave.

#YourTurnChallenge is a 7-day blogging challenge inspired by the Your Turn book by Seth Godin. I will be taking part in the challenge which starts Monday Jan 19th and ends Sunday Jan 26th. Wish me luck and happy reading


Waking up more tired then when I fell asleep the night before. Peel myself out of bed, the world awaits and it’s sitting by the door, tail wagging, panting. She would have had her leash clipped and ready to go but she’s lacking one thing, opposable thumbs. After the walk, I sit to type. My brain is muffled with thoughts, ideas, words, stories. It’s a jumbled mess. Maybe I should make sure my bike tires are ready to go. As I tinker with my tires I can’t find my tools, I search and search for them. They should be right here. It’s as if the functional part of my brain and my tools ran away together. Or worse, they’re playing hide and seek, giggling each time I get close and running further away. Today’s not a day for games, my brain is mush. This continues for most of the day so I decide to take a break plus India’s at the door again must be afternoon pee time. She pollutes the lawn in her normal spot which has killed a small patch, looks like a desert island among a sea of lush green grass. And for today’s irony, I pick up her dog poop to protect the lawn and the gardeners put down fertilizer with manure in it to bring back the dead grass from her pee. Got it. Moving on. We then sit side by side on the stoop. At the same time we both sign and take it in. It’s a pristine LA day. I enjoy this city the most when she’s quiet, calm and her air is filled with warm rays of sunshine. How can I go back inside now? It’s like a damn ice box in my dark dungeon of a room. I walk in; as I sit at my computer I can’t type so I decide I should work in my studio. Fuck it! I slam the laptop closed, grab the dog and keys. We’re outta here, as I am opening the door India is practically in the car, head out the window.

I work my ass off and I enjoy it, I thrive for it actually and I’m focused on my goals. I’m also driven and damn stubborn to achieve them.  But some days ya gotta ditch it all and just drive into the sunshine.

  

 *I'd love to hear from you, have questions? Comments? Please contact me at casey [at] caseyshepparddesigns [dot] com Thank you again for reading*  

Day 6: Thinking Through My Fingers

 

 #YourTurnChallenge is a 7-day blogging challenge inspired by the Your Turn book by Seth Godin. I will be taking part in the challenge which starts Monday Jan 19th and ends Sunday Jan 26th. Wish me luck and happy reading

 

 

The ability to write has long been a wonder to me. I’ve always loved stories but at times I felt that only smart people wrote masterpieces which were usually filled with words that were completely foreign to me. I became glazed over in boredom with my attempt to read as a child....at times, I still do. Every once in a while I’d have my attention grabbed and I could actually make it past the first couple of pages and that’s all it took, I knew I could finish the book. It once took me six months to read a book and at the end I was so attached to Trudy, the main character, that I cried. What was I going to do without her? We had spent six month together, everyday, now it was all gone. I still can feel a little heart ache and longing. So how did a slow reader with an attention span of a gnat who failed English class become a published writer?

A few years back I started a blog to share information and show a bit of my life as an artist. Which was constantly changing and evolving, still is. At one point I shared how I created my work. Giving back I guess or maybe I didn’t know what to write about. This caught the eye of an editor from Art Jewelry Magazine. I had contacted her months back about helping me post information about a kickstarter I was doing. She was so helpful and great by posting what she could online. Now she was contacting me to write about a technique she saw on my blog. About a year ago I was paid for my first published article and am still at it. So again, I’m still a slow reader, yes I failed English, I’m super ADD and I don’t understand most words in the current book I’m reading. So how did I become a published writer, a paid writer? By not knowing any better.

The Current Issue of Art Jewelry Magazine which is available Feb 2. Please check out my 3, yes, 3 page spread about last years bodaciously tantalizing SNAG Conference!!! Holy ballz. Thank you to my Art Jewelry Magazine Family, thanks for believing in this lil punk, yall rock!!!!

 

*I'd love to hear from you, have questions? Comments? Please contact me at casey [at] caseyshepparddesigns [dot] com Thank you again for reading* 

Day 5: Metal Metal Land

#YourTurnChallenge is a 7-day blogging challenge inspired by the Your Turn book by Seth Godin. I will be taking part in the challenge which starts Monday Jan 19th and ends Sunday Jan 26th. Wish me luck and happy reading

Hammering, metal flying, flames burning. I’m not talking bout a Gwar show, I wish, I’m talking bout metal smithing. There is something about tools and metal that just makes sense to me. Like mountain biking I taught myself how to work with metal. I grew up around tools and I’ve always been drawn to metal and mechanics, couldn’t tell ya why. Maybe it’s a mix of my curiosity of how things are built and how things work? Plus when I was growing up most things were made out of metal which looked damn badass. My moms gardening tools looked like she was bout to battle RoboCop, our ‘corn knife’ which we used to cut thistles was actually a small machete (no mechanics here but still badass) and don’t even get me started on our ice cream scoop *drool*.

When I’m playing with my tools and metal in my studio I get lost in my work. Something comes over me and all of a sudden a flat piece of copper becomes a functional 3D adornment that would make Mad Max gitty as a school girl. Now that’s something, I’m talking bout making some cool work not Max(y) pissin himself. That sense of accomplishment of creating something using your two hands. It’s intoxicating.

 

*I'd love to hear from you, have questions? Comments? Please contact me at casey [at] caseyshepparddesigns [dot] com Thank you again for reading* 

Day 4:Fear is Loathing

#YourTurnChallenge is a 7-day blogging challenge inspired by the Your Turn book by Seth Godin. I will be taking part in the challenge which starts Monday Jan 19th and ends Sunday Jan 26th. Wish me luck and happy reading

When I think about being alone on the road I have a sense of fear. I enjoy solitude. I actually welcome it. Aloneness is something I’ve learned to enjoy after spending miles in the middle of no where with only me, my bike and gravel roads or dirt trails. But this is different from living on the road for a year. The world is full of creepers, will I be able to avoid them? Am I tough enough to handle not only the things I can think of going wrong but the things I can’t? That’s why I’m doing this, right, to see what I’m made of?!?!

I felt these same fears the first year I got into mountain biking and I eventually kicked those feeling to the side and become a full on addict. Could I do the same on the road? How did I ‘kick’ my fears aside? I guess I just sort of dove in.

The High Board

June of 2011 marked the end of my 20 some years of bike hiatus. I had no idea what I was doing or how to start but eager to learn. I was terrified, pretty scared and completely embarrassed to ride with anyone let alone ask, at the prime age of 32, how to mountain bike. So I taught myself.

My school was Wilderness Park, a great beginner bike trail in Lincoln. I started off by picking a loop. Then I just rode it over and over again, learning how to (and not) take each turn, root, dip and burm going faster and faster each time. This is how I still learn new trails 4 years later. Once I figured out the basics of just how to ride I started to go on group rides with other mountain bikers. Nebraska has some of the most experienced, veteran riders. I had no idea what I was getting into and I am thankful that they took me under their wing. These guys made me a tough chick that’s not afraid to try new terrifying things (mostly). And taught me: fail, success, doesn’t matter just as long as you get out and ride.

Tell Me Where It Hurts

How does one become tough? Well crashing a bunch is a good start. It’s also an essential part and fact about this sport. I spent the first 4 month with a brutal hazing. During this time I gotta say my mom was concerned, every time I saw her I had an ice pack (or two, sometimes three) and some new gnarly bruise that was every color a bruise shouldn’t be. I reassured her that everything was okay. But I wasn’t sure it was. I wasn’t even sure if it would ever stop. My community of bike friends said it would, there’s just a learning curve but was I gonna survive it? Was I tough enough? Right when I didn’t think I could handle another ass beating on the trail something started to change, it clicked, I was getting it. Guess after flying over your handle bars a gazillion times you learn damn quick what not to do. Eating shit happens less for me now but I am still known for it, that’s what happens when you push yourself past your abilities and out of your comfort zone. Rad.

So if I can survive the brutality of the bike academy I could surely survive the road. How different or more difficult could it be?  Just dive in and embrace the terrifying new ride. I’m sure there will be a learning curve and I welcome it. I look forward to seeing what I’m made of. Not to see how tough I can be but how open I can be, how willing I can be and how free I can be. There will be times of fear, doubt and regret. That comes along with all new uncertainties. But the best part of it all, good or bad, is knowing my community will be there. In times of doubt, failure, laughter, tears and success I can count on them to not only be there at the end of the day but to join me for a beer where they will for sure drink the last one.

*I'd love to hear from you, have questions? Comments? Please contact me at casey [at] caseyshepparddesigns [dot] com Thank you again for reading* 

Day 3: Road to No Where?

#YourTurnChallenge is a 7-day blogging challenge inspired by the Your Turn book by Seth Godin. I will be taking part in the challenge which starts Monday Jan 19th and ends Sunday Jan 26th. Wish me luck and happy reading

Nomad:

A member of a tribe that roams from place to place seeking pasture for its animals. A wander.

Shepherd:

A man who tends sheep while at pasture. To guide or direct.

 I find this ironic. I’m a Sheppard and in a few months I will become a Nomad. It seems that I will guide myself directly into a life of wandering.

So how does one become a nomad? Will I come by it naturally because I’m a Sheppard? In the alchemist, Santiago was a shepherd who possesses a jacket, a book and a flock of sheep. Got it, I’ll pick the alchemist as my book, of course, my Beast sweatshirt for my jacket since its super warm and has a hood and do you think India would get pissed if I cover her in fluffy cotton, change her name to Babs and herd her around? Okay….yeah…next.

I’ve been watching a lot of ocean voyage documentaries/movies and I’m reading the second Roz Savage book about her rowing across the Pacific Ocean. Maybe I should get a row boat and row across the US. Yeah, there isn’t enough water in the LA River to get me anywhere, let alone outta LA. Plus the Midwest would be a bitch. Try again.

In the movie Hidalgo, Viggo races across the sea of fire on his faithful friend and horse to beat them all and win the title. This might be doable since India kind of looks like a horse but I’d have to carry her after about 5 minutes in the desert heat and she’s too damn big to carry 3000 miles. Uhhh, no.

Maybe the key to becoming a nomad is just that, becoming a nomad. Sticking to what drives you and seeing where the adventure will take you. Yes, score! Now what?

*I'd love to hear from you, have questions? Comments? Please contact me at casey [at] caseyshepparddesigns [dot] com Thank you again for reading* 

Day 2: Curb It

#YourTurnChallenge is a 7-day blogging challenge inspired by the Your Turn book by Seth Godin. I will be taking part in the challenge which starts Monday Jan 19th and ends Sunday Jan 26th. Wish me luck and happy reading


I’ve been trying to stay in the moment and focus on being here, in LA. I have a rough plan of leaving on this crazy US venture in September but the leave date is only in pencil and I’m allowing it to evolve along the way. There’s a lot of planning to do in the next 9 months, which I’m looking forward to, but how do I keep my mind here in the now. As I walk my dog I look at the sky, breath in the fresh air and try to enjoy this moment. A year from now I may be freezing my ass off while walking her in a seasonal State. It’s easy to be in the present when the warm socal January sun is warming your exposed bar arms and face. Others moments aren’t that easy, especially if they gang up on you.

On my days off I spent them working on my blog post, in my studio creating and doing some bike work. I jam theses days full!!! Yesterday I headed back to work after my amazing days away and even though my morning was off to a good start the hours and minutes started to count down to the time I had to leave for the Beast. This is when things got….well….let’s say….out of the moment. It started off small but fierce, the dog started whining for more attention even after an hour long walk, problems with my tools while changing out bike tires, wanting to focus but all four roommates seemed to get under my skin, even when they weren’t home, my computer moving at a snails pace and not responding over and over again. If there was a cricket outside my window its breathing would have erked me. If crickets even breathe, they have gills, right??? Now how does one deal with this my girl left me, dog died, truck broken moment? Well with a little Megadeth. I have found if I play Megadeth as loud as I possibly can while dodging LA traffic it causes rainbows to literally shoot outta my ass!!! It’s truly magical!! Like a bit of Disneyland right in my front seat.

As I arrived to work Megadeth is still blarring and rainbows are totally blinding. I see that I am 30 minutes early, rad. No need for coffee today so I skipped Stumptown and sat in the alley to re edit some work and check my emails. I now have earphones on blaring Megadeth and a possible dingle berry of rainbow still shined. I might be in the moment, ahhhh maybe. After a few minutes just chilling in my new found sacred alley, it became the damn water cooler for the Beast crew. I’m not ready for you people yet; damn you all, I gotta get away; I’m going for a walk. As I walked the streets of LA’s downtown arts district, trying to shake the Beast, I thought what if I kept walking? What if I didn’t turn back? I could keep walking, pack up my car tonight and just leave!!! Hit the road and never look back. Conscience don’t kick in, Midwestern work ethic, go f*ck yourself. This is how great things happen. Right? As my work ethic seeped its way back into my conscience I crossed the street to head back to work. As I was crossing I stepped over a bag of dog sh*t and noticed it read “Here Today Gone Next Year.” And there it lie, my future written on a bag of sh*t.

*I'd love to hear from you, have questions? Comments? Please contact me at casey [at] caseyshepparddesigns [dot] com Thank you again for reading*

Day 1: A Tomboy's Search For Meaning

#YourTurnChallenge is a 7-day blogging challenge inspired by the Your Turn book by Seth Godin. I will be taking part in the challenge which starts Monday Jan 19th and ends Sunday Jan 26th. Wish me luck and happy reading

What makes us happy?

What is happiness to you?

To me?


And why does this question seem less complicated when we were kids, have things gotten more complicated or has our perception shifted?


Maybe we should start from the beginning. 





Indiana Jones Wanna Be 

 I spend most of my childhood loading up my backpack with my trusty notebook, walkman with my favorite tape by Tangerine Dream, all sorts of delicious snacks and a juice box or two. Then I would set off on a grand adventure in the large acres of Nebraska farm fields that were not only my back yard but India, the great pyramids or a dinosaur dig site. I’d spend hours exploring the gravel half mile long drive for fossils, sit in a tree to write my thoughts or jot down a story. I’d come back home and tell my explorations to my mother who would indulge my fantasies over tea. Oh but first I had to empty my pockets of all my newly found treasures, which I later found out to be fools gold and a horses tooth, not what I thought to be ancient tribal gold or a tooth from an undiscovered dinosaur that I would have proudly named “Case-a-saures”.

Other times I’d drag my brother outside and make him build a bike ramp with me. I was convinced it would send me miles high in the air and I would have to hold on for dear life. Ohhh....wait til Mom hears bout this ground breaking dare devil triumph. But alas, at the age of 5 I lacked the skills or patience to create a proper functional ramp or any structure for that matter, except a fort, I was a damn good fort builder. My brother wasn't much help; he was just there to make sure I didn’t kill myself on these crazy hair brained yet amazing ventures. Even though he would have never tried any of my wild ideas I think deep down he was hoping I’d succeed not only because it would make me insanely gitty but him as well.

And the Tomboy is off!!! My first bike, a big wheel! I soooo miss peddling as fast as I could to get to top speed then slamming on the breaks to skid into a 360. You remember. Wish I still had this beaut.

This was my first realization of happiness. Or even the idea of what it felt to be happy, at least that I can remember. What’s changed? Have I changed? I’m no longer a spunky 5 year old tomboy but a grown woman in my 30’s. Maybe I don’t know myself now or who I've become. 

Sam I Am Not 

Who am I? Now that’s a tricky question, or was it? I did realize that my genes were right, I am an artist. This happened when I was living in NYC and exposed to its art world. I then decided to move back home to Nebraska at age 24 to figure out what that really meant. I thought the best way to get started was to volunteer around the community. So I started at the humane society with cleaning animal cages, which is a very brave job, some of those cats were viscous and stink...okay...you're right...some were very sweet. I helped with costumes at the theatre and my mom with running her new café. I also took a few classes at the community college. I found I loved photography. Even though I still use this skill today it’s not the profession for me. I was pretty rad at painting but my heart wasn’t really in it and art history was interesting but not enough to keep my attention. After a lot of trial and error and 10 years this is what I found. I’m an artist, I love playing with tools, fire and metal to make wearable art/jewelry. I have a passion for riding bikes (after a 20+ year hiatus), traveling, food, environment, writing and I thrive for connecting with all these communities. Actually my heart and soul is community. But did all this make me happy? I still felt like something was missing? I needed to figure it out. 

Moving To LaLaLand

I decided to move to Los Angeles to further my career as a jewelry artist which in turn I thought would help me find the missing piece(s) I’d been searching for. Goal, to sell jewelry to rock stars…..rad!!! I hit the ground running. I worked with a top designer who made jewelry for rock stars, was picked up by a killer boutique that also carried the artist I worked for. I was mountain biking with a crew of cyclists who rode all sorts of fun trails in and around LA. I was working at one of the top restaurants in the city and dating a personal training from the east coast. My boyfriend lived in the Hollywood Hills and was exposing me to all different parts of Hollywood and the city. Sounds pretty damn perfect. But something was off. Even though I was trying to convince myself that this is what I wanted and that this would eventually make me happy I wasn't. But I was determined not to fail. Cause if I failed Los Angeles that meant I failed my family, my friends and everyone that believed and didn’t believe in me. Didn't it? 

Sometimes You Just Need A Swift Smack Upside The Head 

A few months back I picked up my boyfriend from the airport and he told me he had been unfaith. Initially there was shock, rage and downing a bottle of Japanese whisky but then something came over me that took me by surprise, relief. I felt a weight lift off me and I actually smiled then laughed in, yes, happiness. I had thought if I lived the life you are suppose to, find the dream or big shot job, have the coolest studio space, have all the impressive gadgets, success in a big city, be at the top, hang at the best spot on the beach, perfect body, boyfriend….blah blah blah….no. I was wrong, again. So what if I failed, I’ve learned that you can find out a lot by failing. But I wasn’t failing I actually was succeeding. What if I didn't want this success? And If not, then what did I want?  

NPR, Gets Me Everytime


It was a typical Sunday and I was in my car running errands. As I was driving I was listening to NPR and a story about Roz Savage. Roz was the first women to row solo across the Atlantic, Pacific and Indian Ocean. Row a boat solo across an ocean, unsupported. Wow that’s badass, puts my 545 mile supported bike ride from San Fran to LA to shame. As I listened over the next minutes, maybe hour while sitting in my car in a strip mall parking lot, dog patiently sitting in back longing to go home, it hit me, Roz and I have something in common. We are/were both scared to live the life that would make us happy. We both have different reasons but the same result. She found her happiness in rowing across vast bodies of water alone. Would I find my happiness there? I think not, I can't snorkel without holding onto someones hand for dear life plus that just doesn't appeal to me. When I got home I found myself more intrigued with her story so I ordered her book. I wanted to hear her story. 

As I awaited for her spiritual guidance to show up in my mailbox I longed for what would come from this. Would Roz change my life? My shelf was filled with books of adventures and life stories. I felt like I was one of those helpless people who are so desperate and unhappy with their lives that they long for that new self help book to come out so maybe, just maybe this time they would conger up the courage to do something about it. “Cause I’m good enough, I’m smart enough and doggone it people like me.” Right. What? Was I that pathetic? At times I know we can all get down on ourselves, that’s what makes us human. But at this point I was feeling far from human.  

Finally the book arrived. I was sooo eager to read it and hear Roz's story but for some reason I just let it sit on my night stand. I think I’ll watch a movie instead. As I watched a movie I sat there thinking “Why are you being such a chickensh*t?” Was I scared that it had nothing to do with Roz and I already knew what made me happy? Why couldn’t I face my happiness? What’s wrong with me?

n my self pity I spent that night writing a letter to my ex saying maybe we could be friends. I addressed the envelop, placed a stamp on it and set it on the entry ready to be mailed. I was exhausted from my persistent Virgo thoughts so I went to bed.
  
Light Bulb Moment

People talk about waking in the middle of the night with an epiphany, I always thought those types were full of it. Waking in the night is for a sleep walking or a pee break. I was about to be proven wrong, I woke up that morning at 4am! I couldn’t sleep; I was restless, almost pissy. Friends!!! You want to be friends!!! I couldn’t send that letter. I didn’t even want to send it. I was running, running back to where it felt safe. I was running back to the arms of denial ready to hide once again. What are you thinking? I had to get my mind off things or I was gonna freak so I grabbed Roz’s book from the night stand and read. About a page and a half into her book I read the lines “deciding at age thirty-six to reinvent myself as an adventurer” I started to cry. I'm 36. A calm came over me. I felt centered and at peace and at that moment I finally faced my happiness. I knew exactly what I needed to do, it had nothing to do with anyone else but myself. It was time to finally grow up and give into my childish dreams.

This is what I wrote that morning at 5am.

My goal is to travel the US with my dog, my bike and my studio.
How am I going to do this? I don’t know.

Will it make me happy? I don’t know but I’m in pursuit of it.

*If you have any questions or comments please be in touch at casey [at] caseyshepparddesigns [dot] com, thanks again for reading.*