Bruneau Sand Dunes | Frivolous Universe

TWO OPTIONS IN LIFE

By: Bethany Walter

06-04-2012

One year ago, I was fortunate enough to be laid off. It was the confirmation and nudge I needed to reexamine my life’s direction. I had been living a responsible and comfortable life without a strong sense of passion or commitment. I decided the most important thing for me to do next was figure out what I wanted. I made my first commitment to dedicating a whole year of my life to exploring and playing.

Jeanology jean jump suite, neck scarf, and Gianni Binni leather heels

Jean jumpsuit: Jeanology, thrift store

I found this jumpsuit in a thrift store brand new with tags still on it. Shame on you whoever didn’t embrace the awesomeness of wearing jean from head to toe.

Jeanology jean jump suite, neck scarf, and Gianni Binni leather heels

Vintage scarf: Mia Mama, i.e. I took this from my mom’s closet probably 15 years ago

Today I am scared to say that I know what I want. I say scared because once you know what you want it is difficult to settle for anything less. There are two options in life 1) play it safe or 2) go after your dreams.

Jeanology jean jump suite, scarf in hair, and Gianni Binni leather heels

Might as well tell all of you what I want since we are all close friends right? I want to be independent, keep building this blog with my friends, grow as a fashion/editorial/fine art photographer, and travel. To fuel this dream, I want to continue designing for local businesses, because hey I’m good at it and I love helping other people grow their businesses and their passions. You might even see me around town working a part time job.

Jeanology jean jump suite, neck scarf, and Gianni Binni leather heels

Brown leather heels: Gianni Bini, Dillard’s 2 years ago

Jeanology jean jump suite, neck scarf, and Gianni Binni leather heels

Can I get an amen?

The photographer Kelly loves this image for its religious implications.

Jeanology jean jump suite, neck scarf, and Gianni Binni leather heels

Cha cha cha
From front, to side, to back, I love me a good jumpsuit.

Jeanology jean jump suite, neck scarf, and Gianni Binni leather heels

Photographer: Kelly Lynae Robinson

Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did. So throw off the bowlines, sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails.
Explore. Dream. Discover.
–Mark Twain

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BEFORE IT BLOWS AWAY: Light Layers and Holding onto Inspiration

By: Kelly Lynae Robinson

02-04-2012

Kelly

Kelly: Creativity is fragile. The circumstances that invoke the creative mind are complex and difficult to control. It is the heartbreaking task of those of us who pursue a creative life to chase down the maddeningly fickle triggers of inspiration and try to regiment them. Often, it feels like trying to catch individual grains of sand blowing off the crests of the Bruneau Sand Dunes.

N: You gotta catch the inspiration quick, before it gets carried off in a spring drift. Creative moments are like cherry blossoms, beautiful and fleeting.

K: I realized a long time ago that I had a creative destiny, but I avoided that destiny for a few years after college by working soul-killing jobs . Since becoming a full-time creative being, I have learned so much about those diamond-in-the-rough moments of divine epiphany.

K: Being outdoors on a beautiful day will almost always activate my higher mind. Add to that the rebirth of Spring and warm sand sliding under my feet, it’s like inspiration serum.

N: My energy, mood and creativity also increase immensely with the start of spring. I will be missing the inspiration Idaho gives in these warm months. Spending my spring and summer days outside is vital to my emotional and artistic well-being. Being surrounded by a thriving city offers its own creative energy, but I’ll miss nature for sure. At least I have the waterfront 10 minutes from my house. Nature bumps up against the city skyline. I guess the view ain’t that bad…

K: Not knowing what the fickle weather would chose to do, I wore light layers to the sand dunes, a porous over-sized sweater and sheer floral kaftan, along with your basic bleached Canadian tuxedo: vest plus cut-offs, a look of my own invention. These items used to be jeans and a jean jacket in a wash that reeked of yesteryear. When inspiration whispered in my ear to alter them, you better believe I listened.

N: Yesterday I went down to the East River waterfront in Williamsburg. It’s been much chillier this week in New York than the past two, but my brisk walk to meet my photographer/co-worker in time warmed me up enough to take off my sweatshirt. Underneath: I was inspired by Anna’s NAKED post and layered my vintage slip under denim bustier (that used to be a dress) with floral print skirt.

K: Not to be underestimated in the creative process, Jeanne Giltzow gave me just enough direction and distraction to help me feel uninhibited for these pictures.

N: I’m sooo jealous of the bad-ass pictures you and the other girls got at the dunes.

N: I’m still trying to figure out my creative life in the city. There is an amazing energy here, but I’m still trying to find my niche of like-minded (slightly nutty) people. Until then, creating weird outfits that coordinate with Boo’s is a good way to keep the juices flowing.

K: Dirty!

N: What, I”m just showing off my socks!

We are fixed on a star. We will not change our minds.

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These Colors Don’t Run (but they do get damned tired….)

By: Anna D.

27-03-2012

Anna

Just 62 miles south of Boise is Bruneau Sand Dunes State Park – a sprawling wonder of a windswept centerpiece that juts loftily away from the high desert plains and rolling foothills of archetypal Southwest Idaho. The unpaved, rut-stricken Sand Dunes Road leads directly to the base of Bruneau’s tallest dune – an impressive 470 ft. mass of sand, whipped into long, billowing peaks by the relentless and torrential wind.

It appeared to me a towering sandcastle, shaped by massive, ghostly hands, and just looking at it stirred in me an overwhelming desire to conquer – to run up its sloping sides as quickly as my sturdy leather boots could carry me, feeling with each step the sucking, shifting deep of the sand.

Upon reaching the crest of the dune, my entire body was smacked hard by the phantom hand of the wind, my ankle-brushing turquoise skirt and true red jacket acting like sails on the mast of my body. I leaned forward, shut my eyes against the stark sunlight, and gave my weight to the wind. Standing on the crest of Bruneau, my body suspended by the sheer force of the wind, I felt free….it’s moments like these that keep me here, in this hopelessly flawed and endlessly awe-inspiring state of Idaho.

My feeling on the place I’ve chosen to call home often wavers greatly between paroxysms of joy and utter despondence…..but most days I hover directly in the middle, in a state of comfortable acceptance. Lately though, this state has shown its abrasive side more effectively than the sunbleached sandscape I fell in love with last weekend.

Idaho Senate Bill 1387 has severely shaken what little confidence I had in our state’s ability to focus on actual issues. I’m disgusted and insulted that the majority of our spring legislative session was caught up in the vacuous mire of this absurd argument. I find it particularly despicable that such an emotionally charged issue is being so hotly debated at a time when vastly more important discussions should be taking place. It’s such an unbelievably stupid argument, I wonder how anyone can take it seriously long enough to state their case on either side.

I love my home. I can drive less than an hour in any direction and be surrounded by sand, hiking deep in the mountains, lounging in natural hot springs, routing world-class rock climbs, and countless other incredible assets that make Idaho an unbeatable place to live. But it’s a damned good thing this state has so much to offer, because there’s plenty else in this little corner of the country that make Idaho an exhausting home as well….all the more reason to savor my blissful, fleeting moments lying contentedly in the sand.