Hi, I’m Riley.

I'm a web designer based in Vermont where I run my own design studio. I am always working on several side projects, and building my husband's art brand Goons into an international empire. 

An Outcry

Note: This post was originally written on February 1, 2010. It has sat forgotten in my drafts for almost three years, serendipitously being found right at the being of a new year with new resolutions. Life has changed a lot since then, but still my thoughts ring true, and I think it is a good timely reminder to go forth and chase your dreams. I've always been a fan of lists, usually in the form of to do or to buy or to marry. Recently though, I feel like lists can be more than just an anal way of keeping track of life. They can be inspiring, motivating, even impulsive ramblings on dreams bigger than yourself.

This self-revelation started when I received a book handed down from my Mom, called The Sunday List of Dreams. It chronicles a woman's own lust for life after finally checking off her list of dreams she's secretly been harboring for years. Despite her life being completely unrelated to my own, I felt myself yearning for her own Sunday List, needing to pave my own path beyond this place I lay my head in Chicago, this blog housing dreamy photos, this life I call my own. I am happy where I am at this point in time, but as I grow up and watch the world, the people in the cars they buy with their salaries that only take them as far as their jobs where they make the money, because there is no time for vacations or being reckless or sleeping under the stars. They do what they are told, they buy what is placed on the shelves. I hate to say I've lost faith in the human race, and I haven't, but I have watched enough people walk blindly through life like sheep to know that I cannot be one myself. Sheep are cute but I would rather be the wolf on the edge of the forest, clearing my own trail, going out with guns blazing.

The next inspiration is a recent blockbuster and surprisingly good film, "The Bucket List". Watching two old men grasp life's disappearing reigns reminds you not to wait until you're 50 years old and stuck in the middle of a self-imposed crisis. It howls GET OUT WHILE YOU CAN! LIVE FOR THE DAY! DANCE NAKED UNDER THE FULL MOON UNTIL THE MOON IS NO LONGER!

I want to dance naked.

Finally, a website I've been occasionally browsing but never signed myself up for, 43 Things. List movers and shakers record their most insane and mundane wishes for themselves, sharing their journey with others to be inspired and take part. Finally, I am ready to join. I made the leap from private pining to public proclamation. With each goal added I'm told how many others are in it with me. Send something to Post Secret, 650 people. Learn to speak French, 1,426 people. Throw theme parties, 1 person. Either we are in it together or I am forging my own path. Putting yourself out there makes you feel accountable for the goals you make. Makes you want to prove yourself to the world and yours truly.

Going along with this series of lists and dreams, the boyfriend and I have recently put pen to paper on our own Bucket List of Summer. We have made a declaration of our own independence to be posted on our studio wall, a reminder to take life by the horns and never look back. Everything is to be completed by the Autumn Solstice and if anything is not I will hurl myself face first in it's direction, I refuse to watch life pass me by.