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📍Echo Cliffs • February 2026

I cannot express how grateful I am for my sidekick, Tuna. How grateful I am for loved ones. How grateful I am for my body which allows me to climb and hike in beautiful places. And how grateful I am for this amazing Earth that has put up with so much of our human BS - and yet, she continues to shine and share beauty with the ones who take the time to sit with her.

📍Echo Cliffs • February 2026

I cannot express how grateful I am for my sidekick, Tuna. How grateful I am for loved ones. How grateful I am for my body which allows me to climb and hike in beautiful places. And how grateful I am for this amazing Earth that has put up with so much of our human BS - and yet, she continues to shine and share beauty with the ones who take the time to sit with her.

📍Echo Cliffs • February 2026

I cannot express how grateful I am for my sidekick, Tuna. How grateful I am for loved ones. How grateful I am for my body which allows me to climb and hike in beautiful places. And how grateful I am for this amazing Earth that has put up with so much of our human BS - and yet, she continues to shine and share beauty with the ones who take the time to sit with her.

Fall is settling in, but part of me is still chasing summer
📍Somewhere in California (and Oregon) • Summer 2025

#oasislive25 #burningman #natureheals #summerphotodump

Fall is settling in, but part of me is still chasing summer
📍Somewhere in California (and Oregon) • Summer 2025

#oasislive25 #burningman #natureheals #summerphotodump

Fall is settling in, but part of me is still chasing summer
📍Somewhere in California (and Oregon) • Summer 2025

#oasislive25 #burningman #natureheals #summerphotodump

Fall is settling in, but part of me is still chasing summer
📍Somewhere in California (and Oregon) • Summer 2025

#oasislive25 #burningman #natureheals #summerphotodump

Fall is settling in, but part of me is still chasing summer
📍Somewhere in California (and Oregon) • Summer 2025

#oasislive25 #burningman #natureheals #summerphotodump

Fall is settling in, but part of me is still chasing summer
📍Somewhere in California (and Oregon) • Summer 2025

#oasislive25 #burningman #natureheals #summerphotodump

Fall is settling in, but part of me is still chasing summer
📍Somewhere in California (and Oregon) • Summer 2025

#oasislive25 #burningman #natureheals #summerphotodump

Fall is settling in, but part of me is still chasing summer
📍Somewhere in California (and Oregon) • Summer 2025

#oasislive25 #burningman #natureheals #summerphotodump

Fall is settling in, but part of me is still chasing summer
📍Somewhere in California (and Oregon) • Summer 2025

#oasislive25 #burningman #natureheals #summerphotodump

Fall is settling in, but part of me is still chasing summer
📍Somewhere in California (and Oregon) • Summer 2025

#oasislive25 #burningman #natureheals #summerphotodump

Fall is settling in, but part of me is still chasing summer
📍Somewhere in California (and Oregon) • Summer 2025

#oasislive25 #burningman #natureheals #summerphotodump

Fall is settling in, but part of me is still chasing summer
📍Somewhere in California (and Oregon) • Summer 2025

#oasislive25 #burningman #natureheals #summerphotodump

Fall is settling in, but part of me is still chasing summer
📍Somewhere in California (and Oregon) • Summer 2025

#oasislive25 #burningman #natureheals #summerphotodump

Fall is settling in, but part of me is still chasing summer
📍Somewhere in California (and Oregon) • Summer 2025

#oasislive25 #burningman #natureheals #summerphotodump

Fall is settling in, but part of me is still chasing summer
📍Somewhere in California (and Oregon) • Summer 2025

#oasislive25 #burningman #natureheals #summerphotodump

📍Crater Lake, OR • September 2025

Since 2021, Em and I have made it a tradition to visit one new National Park every year. Each trip leaves me more grateful for nature, for connection, and for the quiet moments.

📍Crater Lake, OR • September 2025

Since 2021, Em and I have made it a tradition to visit one new National Park every year. Each trip leaves me more grateful for nature, for connection, and for the quiet moments.

📍Crater Lake, OR • September 2025

Since 2021, Em and I have made it a tradition to visit one new National Park every year. Each trip leaves me more grateful for nature, for connection, and for the quiet moments.

📍Crater Lake, OR • September 2025

Since 2021, Em and I have made it a tradition to visit one new National Park every year. Each trip leaves me more grateful for nature, for connection, and for the quiet moments.

📍Crater Lake, OR • September 2025

Since 2021, Em and I have made it a tradition to visit one new National Park every year. Each trip leaves me more grateful for nature, for connection, and for the quiet moments.

📍Crater Lake, OR • September 2025

Since 2021, Em and I have made it a tradition to visit one new National Park every year. Each trip leaves me more grateful for nature, for connection, and for the quiet moments.

📍Crater Lake, OR • September 2025

Since 2021, Em and I have made it a tradition to visit one new National Park every year. Each trip leaves me more grateful for nature, for connection, and for the quiet moments.

📍Crater Lake, OR • September 2025

Since 2021, Em and I have made it a tradition to visit one new National Park every year. Each trip leaves me more grateful for nature, for connection, and for the quiet moments.

📍Crater Lake, OR • September 2025

Since 2021, Em and I have made it a tradition to visit one new National Park every year. Each trip leaves me more grateful for nature, for connection, and for the quiet moments.

📍Crater Lake, OR • September 2025

Since 2021, Em and I have made it a tradition to visit one new National Park every year. Each trip leaves me more grateful for nature, for connection, and for the quiet moments.

📍Crater Lake, OR • September 2025

Since 2021, Em and I have made it a tradition to visit one new National Park every year. Each trip leaves me more grateful for nature, for connection, and for the quiet moments.

📍Crater Lake, OR • September 2025

Since 2021, Em and I have made it a tradition to visit one new National Park every year. Each trip leaves me more grateful for nature, for connection, and for the quiet moments.

📍Crater Lake, OR • September 2025

Since 2021, Em and I have made it a tradition to visit one new National Park every year. Each trip leaves me more grateful for nature, for connection, and for the quiet moments.

📍Crater Lake, OR • September 2025

Since 2021, Em and I have made it a tradition to visit one new National Park every year. Each trip leaves me more grateful for nature, for connection, and for the quiet moments.

📍Crater Lake, OR • September 2025

Since 2021, Em and I have made it a tradition to visit one new National Park every year. Each trip leaves me more grateful for nature, for connection, and for the quiet moments.

📍Black Rock City, NV • Burning Man • August 2025

Still riding this Burning Man afterglow. It wasn’t just an experience, it was a reminder of connection, joy, and community. Something we can bring into our lives daily ✨

#burningman2025 #serpentqueen #blackrockcity

📍Black Rock City, NV • Burning Man • August 2025

Still riding this Burning Man afterglow. It wasn’t just an experience, it was a reminder of connection, joy, and community. Something we can bring into our lives daily ✨

#burningman2025 #serpentqueen #blackrockcity

📍Black Rock City, NV • Burning Man • August 2025

Still riding this Burning Man afterglow. It wasn’t just an experience, it was a reminder of connection, joy, and community. Something we can bring into our lives daily ✨

#burningman2025 #serpentqueen #blackrockcity

📍Black Rock City, NV • Burning Man • August 2025

Still riding this Burning Man afterglow. It wasn’t just an experience, it was a reminder of connection, joy, and community. Something we can bring into our lives daily ✨

#burningman2025 #serpentqueen #blackrockcity

📍Black Rock City, NV • Burning Man • August 2025

Still riding this Burning Man afterglow. It wasn’t just an experience, it was a reminder of connection, joy, and community. Something we can bring into our lives daily ✨

#burningman2025 #serpentqueen #blackrockcity

📍Black Rock City, NV • Burning Man • August 2025

Still riding this Burning Man afterglow. It wasn’t just an experience, it was a reminder of connection, joy, and community. Something we can bring into our lives daily ✨

#burningman2025 #serpentqueen #blackrockcity

📍Black Rock City, NV • Burning Man • August 2025

Still riding this Burning Man afterglow. It wasn’t just an experience, it was a reminder of connection, joy, and community. Something we can bring into our lives daily ✨

#burningman2025 #serpentqueen #blackrockcity

📍Black Rock City, NV • Burning Man • August 2025

Still riding this Burning Man afterglow. It wasn’t just an experience, it was a reminder of connection, joy, and community. Something we can bring into our lives daily ✨

#burningman2025 #serpentqueen #blackrockcity

📍Black Rock City, NV • Burning Man • August 2025

Still riding this Burning Man afterglow. It wasn’t just an experience, it was a reminder of connection, joy, and community. Something we can bring into our lives daily ✨

#burningman2025 #serpentqueen #blackrockcity

📍Black Rock City, NV • Burning Man • August 2025

Still riding this Burning Man afterglow. It wasn’t just an experience, it was a reminder of connection, joy, and community. Something we can bring into our lives daily ✨

#burningman2025 #serpentqueen #blackrockcity

📍Black Rock City, NV • Burning Man • August 2025

Still riding this Burning Man afterglow. It wasn’t just an experience, it was a reminder of connection, joy, and community. Something we can bring into our lives daily ✨

#burningman2025 #serpentqueen #blackrockcity

📍Black Rock City, NV • Burning Man • August 2025

Still riding this Burning Man afterglow. It wasn’t just an experience, it was a reminder of connection, joy, and community. Something we can bring into our lives daily ✨

#burningman2025 #serpentqueen #blackrockcity

📍Black Rock City, NV • Burning Man • August 2025

Still riding this Burning Man afterglow. It wasn’t just an experience, it was a reminder of connection, joy, and community. Something we can bring into our lives daily ✨

#burningman2025 #serpentqueen #blackrockcity

📍Black Rock City, NV • Burning Man • August 2025

Still riding this Burning Man afterglow. It wasn’t just an experience, it was a reminder of connection, joy, and community. Something we can bring into our lives daily ✨

#burningman2025 #serpentqueen #blackrockcity

📍Black Rock City, NV • Burning Man • August 2025

Still riding this Burning Man afterglow. It wasn’t just an experience, it was a reminder of connection, joy, and community. Something we can bring into our lives daily ✨

#burningman2025 #serpentqueen #blackrockcity

📍Black Rock City, NV • Burning Man • August 2025

Still riding this Burning Man afterglow. It wasn’t just an experience, it was a reminder of connection, joy, and community. Something we can bring into our lives daily ✨

#burningman2025 #serpentqueen #blackrockcity

📍Black Rock City, NV • Burning Man • August 2025

Still riding this Burning Man afterglow. It wasn’t just an experience, it was a reminder of connection, joy, and community. Something we can bring into our lives daily ✨

#burningman2025 #serpentqueen #blackrockcity

📍Black Rock City, NV • Burning Man • August 2025

Still riding this Burning Man afterglow. It wasn’t just an experience, it was a reminder of connection, joy, and community. Something we can bring into our lives daily ✨

#burningman2025 #serpentqueen #blackrockcity

📍Black Rock City, NV • Burning Man • August 2025

Still riding this Burning Man afterglow. It wasn’t just an experience, it was a reminder of connection, joy, and community. Something we can bring into our lives daily ✨

#burningman2025 #serpentqueen #blackrockcity

📍Black Rock City, NV • Burning Man • August 2025

I never imagined I’d actually make it to Burning Man - never really had a huge draw towards this “thing in the desert”. But this year curiosity (and the Serpent Queen crew) pulled me in. And what I found was so much more than I ever expected. Yes, the art, music, and desert magic were incredible - but it was the people and community who made it unforgettable.

Thank you to this incredible crew for welcoming me with open arms and open hearts, and for being so kind and patient with my “broken wing”. They showed me what community really feels like, held me up when I was nervous about being there with a torn tendon, and reminded me that support can be found in the wildest of places.

The dust, the laughter, the music, and all the little in-betweens were such a gift. And getting to share it all with my best friend after years of hearing his stories made it even more special.

One hell of a first Burn - I’m already counting the days until the next. Until we meet again in the dust xo

#burningman2025 #serpentqueen #blackrockcity

📍Black Rock City, NV • Burning Man • August 2025

I never imagined I’d actually make it to Burning Man - never really had a huge draw towards this “thing in the desert”. But this year curiosity (and the Serpent Queen crew) pulled me in. And what I found was so much more than I ever expected. Yes, the art, music, and desert magic were incredible - but it was the people and community who made it unforgettable.

Thank you to this incredible crew for welcoming me with open arms and open hearts, and for being so kind and patient with my “broken wing”. They showed me what community really feels like, held me up when I was nervous about being there with a torn tendon, and reminded me that support can be found in the wildest of places.

The dust, the laughter, the music, and all the little in-betweens were such a gift. And getting to share it all with my best friend after years of hearing his stories made it even more special.

One hell of a first Burn - I’m already counting the days until the next. Until we meet again in the dust xo

#burningman2025 #serpentqueen #blackrockcity

📍Black Rock City, NV • Burning Man • August 2025

I never imagined I’d actually make it to Burning Man - never really had a huge draw towards this “thing in the desert”. But this year curiosity (and the Serpent Queen crew) pulled me in. And what I found was so much more than I ever expected. Yes, the art, music, and desert magic were incredible - but it was the people and community who made it unforgettable.

Thank you to this incredible crew for welcoming me with open arms and open hearts, and for being so kind and patient with my “broken wing”. They showed me what community really feels like, held me up when I was nervous about being there with a torn tendon, and reminded me that support can be found in the wildest of places.

The dust, the laughter, the music, and all the little in-betweens were such a gift. And getting to share it all with my best friend after years of hearing his stories made it even more special.

One hell of a first Burn - I’m already counting the days until the next. Until we meet again in the dust xo

#burningman2025 #serpentqueen #blackrockcity

📍Black Rock City, NV • Burning Man • August 2025

I never imagined I’d actually make it to Burning Man - never really had a huge draw towards this “thing in the desert”. But this year curiosity (and the Serpent Queen crew) pulled me in. And what I found was so much more than I ever expected. Yes, the art, music, and desert magic were incredible - but it was the people and community who made it unforgettable.

Thank you to this incredible crew for welcoming me with open arms and open hearts, and for being so kind and patient with my “broken wing”. They showed me what community really feels like, held me up when I was nervous about being there with a torn tendon, and reminded me that support can be found in the wildest of places.

The dust, the laughter, the music, and all the little in-betweens were such a gift. And getting to share it all with my best friend after years of hearing his stories made it even more special.

One hell of a first Burn - I’m already counting the days until the next. Until we meet again in the dust xo

#burningman2025 #serpentqueen #blackrockcity

📍Black Rock City, NV • Burning Man • August 2025

I never imagined I’d actually make it to Burning Man - never really had a huge draw towards this “thing in the desert”. But this year curiosity (and the Serpent Queen crew) pulled me in. And what I found was so much more than I ever expected. Yes, the art, music, and desert magic were incredible - but it was the people and community who made it unforgettable.

Thank you to this incredible crew for welcoming me with open arms and open hearts, and for being so kind and patient with my “broken wing”. They showed me what community really feels like, held me up when I was nervous about being there with a torn tendon, and reminded me that support can be found in the wildest of places.

The dust, the laughter, the music, and all the little in-betweens were such a gift. And getting to share it all with my best friend after years of hearing his stories made it even more special.

One hell of a first Burn - I’m already counting the days until the next. Until we meet again in the dust xo

#burningman2025 #serpentqueen #blackrockcity

📍Black Rock City, NV • Burning Man • August 2025

I never imagined I’d actually make it to Burning Man - never really had a huge draw towards this “thing in the desert”. But this year curiosity (and the Serpent Queen crew) pulled me in. And what I found was so much more than I ever expected. Yes, the art, music, and desert magic were incredible - but it was the people and community who made it unforgettable.

Thank you to this incredible crew for welcoming me with open arms and open hearts, and for being so kind and patient with my “broken wing”. They showed me what community really feels like, held me up when I was nervous about being there with a torn tendon, and reminded me that support can be found in the wildest of places.

The dust, the laughter, the music, and all the little in-betweens were such a gift. And getting to share it all with my best friend after years of hearing his stories made it even more special.

One hell of a first Burn - I’m already counting the days until the next. Until we meet again in the dust xo

#burningman2025 #serpentqueen #blackrockcity

📍Black Rock City, NV • Burning Man • August 2025

I never imagined I’d actually make it to Burning Man - never really had a huge draw towards this “thing in the desert”. But this year curiosity (and the Serpent Queen crew) pulled me in. And what I found was so much more than I ever expected. Yes, the art, music, and desert magic were incredible - but it was the people and community who made it unforgettable.

Thank you to this incredible crew for welcoming me with open arms and open hearts, and for being so kind and patient with my “broken wing”. They showed me what community really feels like, held me up when I was nervous about being there with a torn tendon, and reminded me that support can be found in the wildest of places.

The dust, the laughter, the music, and all the little in-betweens were such a gift. And getting to share it all with my best friend after years of hearing his stories made it even more special.

One hell of a first Burn - I’m already counting the days until the next. Until we meet again in the dust xo

#burningman2025 #serpentqueen #blackrockcity

📍Black Rock City, NV • Burning Man • August 2025

I never imagined I’d actually make it to Burning Man - never really had a huge draw towards this “thing in the desert”. But this year curiosity (and the Serpent Queen crew) pulled me in. And what I found was so much more than I ever expected. Yes, the art, music, and desert magic were incredible - but it was the people and community who made it unforgettable.

Thank you to this incredible crew for welcoming me with open arms and open hearts, and for being so kind and patient with my “broken wing”. They showed me what community really feels like, held me up when I was nervous about being there with a torn tendon, and reminded me that support can be found in the wildest of places.

The dust, the laughter, the music, and all the little in-betweens were such a gift. And getting to share it all with my best friend after years of hearing his stories made it even more special.

One hell of a first Burn - I’m already counting the days until the next. Until we meet again in the dust xo

#burningman2025 #serpentqueen #blackrockcity

📍Yosemite National Park • July 2025

The last 4 years Emily and I have made the pilgrimage to this beautiful park. It’s my favorite tradition with one of the most amazing humans I know 🖤

📍Yosemite National Park • July 2025

The last 4 years Emily and I have made the pilgrimage to this beautiful park. It’s my favorite tradition with one of the most amazing humans I know 🖤

📍Yosemite National Park • July 2025

The last 4 years Emily and I have made the pilgrimage to this beautiful park. It’s my favorite tradition with one of the most amazing humans I know 🖤

📍Yosemite National Park • July 2025

The last 4 years Emily and I have made the pilgrimage to this beautiful park. It’s my favorite tradition with one of the most amazing humans I know 🖤

📍Yosemite National Park • July 2025

The last 4 years Emily and I have made the pilgrimage to this beautiful park. It’s my favorite tradition with one of the most amazing humans I know 🖤

📍Yosemite National Park • July 2025

The last 4 years Emily and I have made the pilgrimage to this beautiful park. It’s my favorite tradition with one of the most amazing humans I know 🖤

📍Yosemite National Park • July 2025

The last 4 years Emily and I have made the pilgrimage to this beautiful park. It’s my favorite tradition with one of the most amazing humans I know 🖤

📍Yosemite National Park • July 2025

The last 4 years Emily and I have made the pilgrimage to this beautiful park. It’s my favorite tradition with one of the most amazing humans I know 🖤

📍Yosemite National Park • July 2025

The last 4 years Emily and I have made the pilgrimage to this beautiful park. It’s my favorite tradition with one of the most amazing humans I know 🖤

📍Yosemite National Park • July 2025

The last 4 years Emily and I have made the pilgrimage to this beautiful park. It’s my favorite tradition with one of the most amazing humans I know 🖤

📍Yosemite National Park • July 2025

The last 4 years Emily and I have made the pilgrimage to this beautiful park. It’s my favorite tradition with one of the most amazing humans I know 🖤

📍Yosemite National Park • July 2025

The last 4 years Emily and I have made the pilgrimage to this beautiful park. It’s my favorite tradition with one of the most amazing humans I know 🖤

📍Yosemite National Park • July 2025

The last 4 years Emily and I have made the pilgrimage to this beautiful park. It’s my favorite tradition with one of the most amazing humans I know 🖤

📍Yosemite National Park • July 2025

The last 4 years Emily and I have made the pilgrimage to this beautiful park. It’s my favorite tradition with one of the most amazing humans I know 🖤

CHIKLDY 4EVER 🖤

CHIKLDY 4EVER 🖤

CHIKLDY 4EVER 🖤

Butterflies, granite, redwoods, and chicken gossip • Life lately

Butterflies, granite, redwoods, and chicken gossip • Life lately

Butterflies, granite, redwoods, and chicken gossip • Life lately

Butterflies, granite, redwoods, and chicken gossip • Life lately

Butterflies, granite, redwoods, and chicken gossip • Life lately

Butterflies, granite, redwoods, and chicken gossip • Life lately

Butterflies, granite, redwoods, and chicken gossip • Life lately

Butterflies, granite, redwoods, and chicken gossip • Life lately

Butterflies, granite, redwoods, and chicken gossip • Life lately

Butterflies, granite, redwoods, and chicken gossip • Life lately

📍CDMX > Puebla > Tulum • Mexico ✨

Finally taking a moment to soak in the memories of this incredible trip. After a bumpy start to 2025, I’m feeling extra grateful for this unforgettable experience and the chance to explore such beautiful new places (though sad to have had to cut it short) • #iloveyoula

📍CDMX > Puebla > Tulum • Mexico ✨

Finally taking a moment to soak in the memories of this incredible trip. After a bumpy start to 2025, I’m feeling extra grateful for this unforgettable experience and the chance to explore such beautiful new places (though sad to have had to cut it short) • #iloveyoula

📍CDMX > Puebla > Tulum • Mexico ✨

Finally taking a moment to soak in the memories of this incredible trip. After a bumpy start to 2025, I’m feeling extra grateful for this unforgettable experience and the chance to explore such beautiful new places (though sad to have had to cut it short) • #iloveyoula

📍CDMX > Puebla > Tulum • Mexico ✨

Finally taking a moment to soak in the memories of this incredible trip. After a bumpy start to 2025, I’m feeling extra grateful for this unforgettable experience and the chance to explore such beautiful new places (though sad to have had to cut it short) • #iloveyoula

📍CDMX > Puebla > Tulum • Mexico ✨

Finally taking a moment to soak in the memories of this incredible trip. After a bumpy start to 2025, I’m feeling extra grateful for this unforgettable experience and the chance to explore such beautiful new places (though sad to have had to cut it short) • #iloveyoula

📍CDMX > Puebla > Tulum • Mexico ✨

Finally taking a moment to soak in the memories of this incredible trip. After a bumpy start to 2025, I’m feeling extra grateful for this unforgettable experience and the chance to explore such beautiful new places (though sad to have had to cut it short) • #iloveyoula

📍CDMX > Puebla > Tulum • Mexico ✨

Finally taking a moment to soak in the memories of this incredible trip. After a bumpy start to 2025, I’m feeling extra grateful for this unforgettable experience and the chance to explore such beautiful new places (though sad to have had to cut it short) • #iloveyoula

📍CDMX > Puebla > Tulum • Mexico ✨

Finally taking a moment to soak in the memories of this incredible trip. After a bumpy start to 2025, I’m feeling extra grateful for this unforgettable experience and the chance to explore such beautiful new places (though sad to have had to cut it short) • #iloveyoula

📍CDMX > Puebla > Tulum • Mexico ✨

Finally taking a moment to soak in the memories of this incredible trip. After a bumpy start to 2025, I’m feeling extra grateful for this unforgettable experience and the chance to explore such beautiful new places (though sad to have had to cut it short) • #iloveyoula

📍CDMX > Puebla > Tulum • Mexico ✨

Finally taking a moment to soak in the memories of this incredible trip. After a bumpy start to 2025, I’m feeling extra grateful for this unforgettable experience and the chance to explore such beautiful new places (though sad to have had to cut it short) • #iloveyoula

📍CDMX > Puebla > Tulum • Mexico ✨

Finally taking a moment to soak in the memories of this incredible trip. After a bumpy start to 2025, I’m feeling extra grateful for this unforgettable experience and the chance to explore such beautiful new places (though sad to have had to cut it short) • #iloveyoula

📍CDMX > Puebla > Tulum • Mexico ✨

Finally taking a moment to soak in the memories of this incredible trip. After a bumpy start to 2025, I’m feeling extra grateful for this unforgettable experience and the chance to explore such beautiful new places (though sad to have had to cut it short) • #iloveyoula

Altadena was everything. Is everything.

Growing up in L.A., raised on the Westside in Venice Beach, I never ventured east of the 405—why would I? But life has a way of guiding you where you need to be. The first time I drove out to Altadena to see the little yellow house on the hill, I hesitated—it felt too far. But I needed a space for me and a bunch of chickens and my soon-to-be housemate needed a roommate. And from the moment I arrived, I knew: this must be the place.

Altadena wasn’t just a place to live; it was a heartbeat, a rhythm of community and connection. It was mornings at Amara Café, savoring a damn good breakfast burrito. It was trips to Steve’s Pets, picking up food for the menagerie. It was stops at Altadena Hardware, where the employees knew your name and helped you with the tiniest of projects. It was a Murphy’s Green pizza from Side Pie - one of my favs.

It was the mountains in our backyard—Eaton Canyon, Millard Falls, Inspiration Point—where the air felt lighter, the trails stretched endlessly, and the sunsets painted the sky in ways that made you stop and breathe. It was the joy of watching a show at Farnsworth Park, put on by the ridiculously talented Altadena Music Theater. It was neighbors who felt like family, an unspoken camaraderie that wove through every street, every backyard gathering, every simple moment.

And then, on the night of Tuesday January 7th, wind and fire took it all away. Homes, gardens, books, history—reduced to ash. The weight of loss is unbearable. Altadena feels gone.

But maybe, like everything beautiful, it’s only shifting. Maybe Altadena isn’t lost; it’s waiting to bloom again. The roots of this place—its spirit, its people, its magic—run too deep to disappear.

For now, I’ll hold onto this:
Altadena is shifting, and ready to be born anew.

I love you, Altadena. #altadena #alovestory

Altadena was everything. Is everything.

Growing up in L.A., raised on the Westside in Venice Beach, I never ventured east of the 405—why would I? But life has a way of guiding you where you need to be. The first time I drove out to Altadena to see the little yellow house on the hill, I hesitated—it felt too far. But I needed a space for me and a bunch of chickens and my soon-to-be housemate needed a roommate. And from the moment I arrived, I knew: this must be the place.

Altadena wasn’t just a place to live; it was a heartbeat, a rhythm of community and connection. It was mornings at Amara Café, savoring a damn good breakfast burrito. It was trips to Steve’s Pets, picking up food for the menagerie. It was stops at Altadena Hardware, where the employees knew your name and helped you with the tiniest of projects. It was a Murphy’s Green pizza from Side Pie - one of my favs.

It was the mountains in our backyard—Eaton Canyon, Millard Falls, Inspiration Point—where the air felt lighter, the trails stretched endlessly, and the sunsets painted the sky in ways that made you stop and breathe. It was the joy of watching a show at Farnsworth Park, put on by the ridiculously talented Altadena Music Theater. It was neighbors who felt like family, an unspoken camaraderie that wove through every street, every backyard gathering, every simple moment.

And then, on the night of Tuesday January 7th, wind and fire took it all away. Homes, gardens, books, history—reduced to ash. The weight of loss is unbearable. Altadena feels gone.

But maybe, like everything beautiful, it’s only shifting. Maybe Altadena isn’t lost; it’s waiting to bloom again. The roots of this place—its spirit, its people, its magic—run too deep to disappear.

For now, I’ll hold onto this:
Altadena is shifting, and ready to be born anew.

I love you, Altadena. #altadena #alovestory

Altadena was everything. Is everything.

Growing up in L.A., raised on the Westside in Venice Beach, I never ventured east of the 405—why would I? But life has a way of guiding you where you need to be. The first time I drove out to Altadena to see the little yellow house on the hill, I hesitated—it felt too far. But I needed a space for me and a bunch of chickens and my soon-to-be housemate needed a roommate. And from the moment I arrived, I knew: this must be the place.

Altadena wasn’t just a place to live; it was a heartbeat, a rhythm of community and connection. It was mornings at Amara Café, savoring a damn good breakfast burrito. It was trips to Steve’s Pets, picking up food for the menagerie. It was stops at Altadena Hardware, where the employees knew your name and helped you with the tiniest of projects. It was a Murphy’s Green pizza from Side Pie - one of my favs.

It was the mountains in our backyard—Eaton Canyon, Millard Falls, Inspiration Point—where the air felt lighter, the trails stretched endlessly, and the sunsets painted the sky in ways that made you stop and breathe. It was the joy of watching a show at Farnsworth Park, put on by the ridiculously talented Altadena Music Theater. It was neighbors who felt like family, an unspoken camaraderie that wove through every street, every backyard gathering, every simple moment.

And then, on the night of Tuesday January 7th, wind and fire took it all away. Homes, gardens, books, history—reduced to ash. The weight of loss is unbearable. Altadena feels gone.

But maybe, like everything beautiful, it’s only shifting. Maybe Altadena isn’t lost; it’s waiting to bloom again. The roots of this place—its spirit, its people, its magic—run too deep to disappear.

For now, I’ll hold onto this:
Altadena is shifting, and ready to be born anew.

I love you, Altadena. #altadena #alovestory

Altadena was everything. Is everything.

Growing up in L.A., raised on the Westside in Venice Beach, I never ventured east of the 405—why would I? But life has a way of guiding you where you need to be. The first time I drove out to Altadena to see the little yellow house on the hill, I hesitated—it felt too far. But I needed a space for me and a bunch of chickens and my soon-to-be housemate needed a roommate. And from the moment I arrived, I knew: this must be the place.

Altadena wasn’t just a place to live; it was a heartbeat, a rhythm of community and connection. It was mornings at Amara Café, savoring a damn good breakfast burrito. It was trips to Steve’s Pets, picking up food for the menagerie. It was stops at Altadena Hardware, where the employees knew your name and helped you with the tiniest of projects. It was a Murphy’s Green pizza from Side Pie - one of my favs.

It was the mountains in our backyard—Eaton Canyon, Millard Falls, Inspiration Point—where the air felt lighter, the trails stretched endlessly, and the sunsets painted the sky in ways that made you stop and breathe. It was the joy of watching a show at Farnsworth Park, put on by the ridiculously talented Altadena Music Theater. It was neighbors who felt like family, an unspoken camaraderie that wove through every street, every backyard gathering, every simple moment.

And then, on the night of Tuesday January 7th, wind and fire took it all away. Homes, gardens, books, history—reduced to ash. The weight of loss is unbearable. Altadena feels gone.

But maybe, like everything beautiful, it’s only shifting. Maybe Altadena isn’t lost; it’s waiting to bloom again. The roots of this place—its spirit, its people, its magic—run too deep to disappear.

For now, I’ll hold onto this:
Altadena is shifting, and ready to be born anew.

I love you, Altadena. #altadena #alovestory

Altadena was everything. Is everything.

Growing up in L.A., raised on the Westside in Venice Beach, I never ventured east of the 405—why would I? But life has a way of guiding you where you need to be. The first time I drove out to Altadena to see the little yellow house on the hill, I hesitated—it felt too far. But I needed a space for me and a bunch of chickens and my soon-to-be housemate needed a roommate. And from the moment I arrived, I knew: this must be the place.

Altadena wasn’t just a place to live; it was a heartbeat, a rhythm of community and connection. It was mornings at Amara Café, savoring a damn good breakfast burrito. It was trips to Steve’s Pets, picking up food for the menagerie. It was stops at Altadena Hardware, where the employees knew your name and helped you with the tiniest of projects. It was a Murphy’s Green pizza from Side Pie - one of my favs.

It was the mountains in our backyard—Eaton Canyon, Millard Falls, Inspiration Point—where the air felt lighter, the trails stretched endlessly, and the sunsets painted the sky in ways that made you stop and breathe. It was the joy of watching a show at Farnsworth Park, put on by the ridiculously talented Altadena Music Theater. It was neighbors who felt like family, an unspoken camaraderie that wove through every street, every backyard gathering, every simple moment.

And then, on the night of Tuesday January 7th, wind and fire took it all away. Homes, gardens, books, history—reduced to ash. The weight of loss is unbearable. Altadena feels gone.

But maybe, like everything beautiful, it’s only shifting. Maybe Altadena isn’t lost; it’s waiting to bloom again. The roots of this place—its spirit, its people, its magic—run too deep to disappear.

For now, I’ll hold onto this:
Altadena is shifting, and ready to be born anew.

I love you, Altadena. #altadena #alovestory

Altadena was everything. Is everything.

Growing up in L.A., raised on the Westside in Venice Beach, I never ventured east of the 405—why would I? But life has a way of guiding you where you need to be. The first time I drove out to Altadena to see the little yellow house on the hill, I hesitated—it felt too far. But I needed a space for me and a bunch of chickens and my soon-to-be housemate needed a roommate. And from the moment I arrived, I knew: this must be the place.

Altadena wasn’t just a place to live; it was a heartbeat, a rhythm of community and connection. It was mornings at Amara Café, savoring a damn good breakfast burrito. It was trips to Steve’s Pets, picking up food for the menagerie. It was stops at Altadena Hardware, where the employees knew your name and helped you with the tiniest of projects. It was a Murphy’s Green pizza from Side Pie - one of my favs.

It was the mountains in our backyard—Eaton Canyon, Millard Falls, Inspiration Point—where the air felt lighter, the trails stretched endlessly, and the sunsets painted the sky in ways that made you stop and breathe. It was the joy of watching a show at Farnsworth Park, put on by the ridiculously talented Altadena Music Theater. It was neighbors who felt like family, an unspoken camaraderie that wove through every street, every backyard gathering, every simple moment.

And then, on the night of Tuesday January 7th, wind and fire took it all away. Homes, gardens, books, history—reduced to ash. The weight of loss is unbearable. Altadena feels gone.

But maybe, like everything beautiful, it’s only shifting. Maybe Altadena isn’t lost; it’s waiting to bloom again. The roots of this place—its spirit, its people, its magic—run too deep to disappear.

For now, I’ll hold onto this:
Altadena is shifting, and ready to be born anew.

I love you, Altadena. #altadena #alovestory

Altadena was everything. Is everything.

Growing up in L.A., raised on the Westside in Venice Beach, I never ventured east of the 405—why would I? But life has a way of guiding you where you need to be. The first time I drove out to Altadena to see the little yellow house on the hill, I hesitated—it felt too far. But I needed a space for me and a bunch of chickens and my soon-to-be housemate needed a roommate. And from the moment I arrived, I knew: this must be the place.

Altadena wasn’t just a place to live; it was a heartbeat, a rhythm of community and connection. It was mornings at Amara Café, savoring a damn good breakfast burrito. It was trips to Steve’s Pets, picking up food for the menagerie. It was stops at Altadena Hardware, where the employees knew your name and helped you with the tiniest of projects. It was a Murphy’s Green pizza from Side Pie - one of my favs.

It was the mountains in our backyard—Eaton Canyon, Millard Falls, Inspiration Point—where the air felt lighter, the trails stretched endlessly, and the sunsets painted the sky in ways that made you stop and breathe. It was the joy of watching a show at Farnsworth Park, put on by the ridiculously talented Altadena Music Theater. It was neighbors who felt like family, an unspoken camaraderie that wove through every street, every backyard gathering, every simple moment.

And then, on the night of Tuesday January 7th, wind and fire took it all away. Homes, gardens, books, history—reduced to ash. The weight of loss is unbearable. Altadena feels gone.

But maybe, like everything beautiful, it’s only shifting. Maybe Altadena isn’t lost; it’s waiting to bloom again. The roots of this place—its spirit, its people, its magic—run too deep to disappear.

For now, I’ll hold onto this:
Altadena is shifting, and ready to be born anew.

I love you, Altadena. #altadena #alovestory

Altadena was everything. Is everything.

Growing up in L.A., raised on the Westside in Venice Beach, I never ventured east of the 405—why would I? But life has a way of guiding you where you need to be. The first time I drove out to Altadena to see the little yellow house on the hill, I hesitated—it felt too far. But I needed a space for me and a bunch of chickens and my soon-to-be housemate needed a roommate. And from the moment I arrived, I knew: this must be the place.

Altadena wasn’t just a place to live; it was a heartbeat, a rhythm of community and connection. It was mornings at Amara Café, savoring a damn good breakfast burrito. It was trips to Steve’s Pets, picking up food for the menagerie. It was stops at Altadena Hardware, where the employees knew your name and helped you with the tiniest of projects. It was a Murphy’s Green pizza from Side Pie - one of my favs.

It was the mountains in our backyard—Eaton Canyon, Millard Falls, Inspiration Point—where the air felt lighter, the trails stretched endlessly, and the sunsets painted the sky in ways that made you stop and breathe. It was the joy of watching a show at Farnsworth Park, put on by the ridiculously talented Altadena Music Theater. It was neighbors who felt like family, an unspoken camaraderie that wove through every street, every backyard gathering, every simple moment.

And then, on the night of Tuesday January 7th, wind and fire took it all away. Homes, gardens, books, history—reduced to ash. The weight of loss is unbearable. Altadena feels gone.

But maybe, like everything beautiful, it’s only shifting. Maybe Altadena isn’t lost; it’s waiting to bloom again. The roots of this place—its spirit, its people, its magic—run too deep to disappear.

For now, I’ll hold onto this:
Altadena is shifting, and ready to be born anew.

I love you, Altadena. #altadena #alovestory

Altadena was everything. Is everything.

Growing up in L.A., raised on the Westside in Venice Beach, I never ventured east of the 405—why would I? But life has a way of guiding you where you need to be. The first time I drove out to Altadena to see the little yellow house on the hill, I hesitated—it felt too far. But I needed a space for me and a bunch of chickens and my soon-to-be housemate needed a roommate. And from the moment I arrived, I knew: this must be the place.

Altadena wasn’t just a place to live; it was a heartbeat, a rhythm of community and connection. It was mornings at Amara Café, savoring a damn good breakfast burrito. It was trips to Steve’s Pets, picking up food for the menagerie. It was stops at Altadena Hardware, where the employees knew your name and helped you with the tiniest of projects. It was a Murphy’s Green pizza from Side Pie - one of my favs.

It was the mountains in our backyard—Eaton Canyon, Millard Falls, Inspiration Point—where the air felt lighter, the trails stretched endlessly, and the sunsets painted the sky in ways that made you stop and breathe. It was the joy of watching a show at Farnsworth Park, put on by the ridiculously talented Altadena Music Theater. It was neighbors who felt like family, an unspoken camaraderie that wove through every street, every backyard gathering, every simple moment.

And then, on the night of Tuesday January 7th, wind and fire took it all away. Homes, gardens, books, history—reduced to ash. The weight of loss is unbearable. Altadena feels gone.

But maybe, like everything beautiful, it’s only shifting. Maybe Altadena isn’t lost; it’s waiting to bloom again. The roots of this place—its spirit, its people, its magic—run too deep to disappear.

For now, I’ll hold onto this:
Altadena is shifting, and ready to be born anew.

I love you, Altadena. #altadena #alovestory

Altadena was everything. Is everything.

Growing up in L.A., raised on the Westside in Venice Beach, I never ventured east of the 405—why would I? But life has a way of guiding you where you need to be. The first time I drove out to Altadena to see the little yellow house on the hill, I hesitated—it felt too far. But I needed a space for me and a bunch of chickens and my soon-to-be housemate needed a roommate. And from the moment I arrived, I knew: this must be the place.

Altadena wasn’t just a place to live; it was a heartbeat, a rhythm of community and connection. It was mornings at Amara Café, savoring a damn good breakfast burrito. It was trips to Steve’s Pets, picking up food for the menagerie. It was stops at Altadena Hardware, where the employees knew your name and helped you with the tiniest of projects. It was a Murphy’s Green pizza from Side Pie - one of my favs.

It was the mountains in our backyard—Eaton Canyon, Millard Falls, Inspiration Point—where the air felt lighter, the trails stretched endlessly, and the sunsets painted the sky in ways that made you stop and breathe. It was the joy of watching a show at Farnsworth Park, put on by the ridiculously talented Altadena Music Theater. It was neighbors who felt like family, an unspoken camaraderie that wove through every street, every backyard gathering, every simple moment.

And then, on the night of Tuesday January 7th, wind and fire took it all away. Homes, gardens, books, history—reduced to ash. The weight of loss is unbearable. Altadena feels gone.

But maybe, like everything beautiful, it’s only shifting. Maybe Altadena isn’t lost; it’s waiting to bloom again. The roots of this place—its spirit, its people, its magic—run too deep to disappear.

For now, I’ll hold onto this:
Altadena is shifting, and ready to be born anew.

I love you, Altadena. #altadena #alovestory

Altadena was everything. Is everything.

Growing up in L.A., raised on the Westside in Venice Beach, I never ventured east of the 405—why would I? But life has a way of guiding you where you need to be. The first time I drove out to Altadena to see the little yellow house on the hill, I hesitated—it felt too far. But I needed a space for me and a bunch of chickens and my soon-to-be housemate needed a roommate. And from the moment I arrived, I knew: this must be the place.

Altadena wasn’t just a place to live; it was a heartbeat, a rhythm of community and connection. It was mornings at Amara Café, savoring a damn good breakfast burrito. It was trips to Steve’s Pets, picking up food for the menagerie. It was stops at Altadena Hardware, where the employees knew your name and helped you with the tiniest of projects. It was a Murphy’s Green pizza from Side Pie - one of my favs.

It was the mountains in our backyard—Eaton Canyon, Millard Falls, Inspiration Point—where the air felt lighter, the trails stretched endlessly, and the sunsets painted the sky in ways that made you stop and breathe. It was the joy of watching a show at Farnsworth Park, put on by the ridiculously talented Altadena Music Theater. It was neighbors who felt like family, an unspoken camaraderie that wove through every street, every backyard gathering, every simple moment.

And then, on the night of Tuesday January 7th, wind and fire took it all away. Homes, gardens, books, history—reduced to ash. The weight of loss is unbearable. Altadena feels gone.

But maybe, like everything beautiful, it’s only shifting. Maybe Altadena isn’t lost; it’s waiting to bloom again. The roots of this place—its spirit, its people, its magic—run too deep to disappear.

For now, I’ll hold onto this:
Altadena is shifting, and ready to be born anew.

I love you, Altadena. #altadena #alovestory

Altadena was everything. Is everything.

Growing up in L.A., raised on the Westside in Venice Beach, I never ventured east of the 405—why would I? But life has a way of guiding you where you need to be. The first time I drove out to Altadena to see the little yellow house on the hill, I hesitated—it felt too far. But I needed a space for me and a bunch of chickens and my soon-to-be housemate needed a roommate. And from the moment I arrived, I knew: this must be the place.

Altadena wasn’t just a place to live; it was a heartbeat, a rhythm of community and connection. It was mornings at Amara Café, savoring a damn good breakfast burrito. It was trips to Steve’s Pets, picking up food for the menagerie. It was stops at Altadena Hardware, where the employees knew your name and helped you with the tiniest of projects. It was a Murphy’s Green pizza from Side Pie - one of my favs.

It was the mountains in our backyard—Eaton Canyon, Millard Falls, Inspiration Point—where the air felt lighter, the trails stretched endlessly, and the sunsets painted the sky in ways that made you stop and breathe. It was the joy of watching a show at Farnsworth Park, put on by the ridiculously talented Altadena Music Theater. It was neighbors who felt like family, an unspoken camaraderie that wove through every street, every backyard gathering, every simple moment.

And then, on the night of Tuesday January 7th, wind and fire took it all away. Homes, gardens, books, history—reduced to ash. The weight of loss is unbearable. Altadena feels gone.

But maybe, like everything beautiful, it’s only shifting. Maybe Altadena isn’t lost; it’s waiting to bloom again. The roots of this place—its spirit, its people, its magic—run too deep to disappear.

For now, I’ll hold onto this:
Altadena is shifting, and ready to be born anew.

I love you, Altadena. #altadena #alovestory

Altadena was everything. Is everything.

Growing up in L.A., raised on the Westside in Venice Beach, I never ventured east of the 405—why would I? But life has a way of guiding you where you need to be. The first time I drove out to Altadena to see the little yellow house on the hill, I hesitated—it felt too far. But I needed a space for me and a bunch of chickens and my soon-to-be housemate needed a roommate. And from the moment I arrived, I knew: this must be the place.

Altadena wasn’t just a place to live; it was a heartbeat, a rhythm of community and connection. It was mornings at Amara Café, savoring a damn good breakfast burrito. It was trips to Steve’s Pets, picking up food for the menagerie. It was stops at Altadena Hardware, where the employees knew your name and helped you with the tiniest of projects. It was a Murphy’s Green pizza from Side Pie - one of my favs.

It was the mountains in our backyard—Eaton Canyon, Millard Falls, Inspiration Point—where the air felt lighter, the trails stretched endlessly, and the sunsets painted the sky in ways that made you stop and breathe. It was the joy of watching a show at Farnsworth Park, put on by the ridiculously talented Altadena Music Theater. It was neighbors who felt like family, an unspoken camaraderie that wove through every street, every backyard gathering, every simple moment.

And then, on the night of Tuesday January 7th, wind and fire took it all away. Homes, gardens, books, history—reduced to ash. The weight of loss is unbearable. Altadena feels gone.

But maybe, like everything beautiful, it’s only shifting. Maybe Altadena isn’t lost; it’s waiting to bloom again. The roots of this place—its spirit, its people, its magic—run too deep to disappear.

For now, I’ll hold onto this:
Altadena is shifting, and ready to be born anew.

I love you, Altadena. #altadena #alovestory

Altadena was everything. Is everything.

Growing up in L.A., raised on the Westside in Venice Beach, I never ventured east of the 405—why would I? But life has a way of guiding you where you need to be. The first time I drove out to Altadena to see the little yellow house on the hill, I hesitated—it felt too far. But I needed a space for me and a bunch of chickens and my soon-to-be housemate needed a roommate. And from the moment I arrived, I knew: this must be the place.

Altadena wasn’t just a place to live; it was a heartbeat, a rhythm of community and connection. It was mornings at Amara Café, savoring a damn good breakfast burrito. It was trips to Steve’s Pets, picking up food for the menagerie. It was stops at Altadena Hardware, where the employees knew your name and helped you with the tiniest of projects. It was a Murphy’s Green pizza from Side Pie - one of my favs.

It was the mountains in our backyard—Eaton Canyon, Millard Falls, Inspiration Point—where the air felt lighter, the trails stretched endlessly, and the sunsets painted the sky in ways that made you stop and breathe. It was the joy of watching a show at Farnsworth Park, put on by the ridiculously talented Altadena Music Theater. It was neighbors who felt like family, an unspoken camaraderie that wove through every street, every backyard gathering, every simple moment.

And then, on the night of Tuesday January 7th, wind and fire took it all away. Homes, gardens, books, history—reduced to ash. The weight of loss is unbearable. Altadena feels gone.

But maybe, like everything beautiful, it’s only shifting. Maybe Altadena isn’t lost; it’s waiting to bloom again. The roots of this place—its spirit, its people, its magic—run too deep to disappear.

For now, I’ll hold onto this:
Altadena is shifting, and ready to be born anew.

I love you, Altadena. #altadena #alovestory

Altadena was everything. Is everything.

Growing up in L.A., raised on the Westside in Venice Beach, I never ventured east of the 405—why would I? But life has a way of guiding you where you need to be. The first time I drove out to Altadena to see the little yellow house on the hill, I hesitated—it felt too far. But I needed a space for me and a bunch of chickens and my soon-to-be housemate needed a roommate. And from the moment I arrived, I knew: this must be the place.

Altadena wasn’t just a place to live; it was a heartbeat, a rhythm of community and connection. It was mornings at Amara Café, savoring a damn good breakfast burrito. It was trips to Steve’s Pets, picking up food for the menagerie. It was stops at Altadena Hardware, where the employees knew your name and helped you with the tiniest of projects. It was a Murphy’s Green pizza from Side Pie - one of my favs.

It was the mountains in our backyard—Eaton Canyon, Millard Falls, Inspiration Point—where the air felt lighter, the trails stretched endlessly, and the sunsets painted the sky in ways that made you stop and breathe. It was the joy of watching a show at Farnsworth Park, put on by the ridiculously talented Altadena Music Theater. It was neighbors who felt like family, an unspoken camaraderie that wove through every street, every backyard gathering, every simple moment.

And then, on the night of Tuesday January 7th, wind and fire took it all away. Homes, gardens, books, history—reduced to ash. The weight of loss is unbearable. Altadena feels gone.

But maybe, like everything beautiful, it’s only shifting. Maybe Altadena isn’t lost; it’s waiting to bloom again. The roots of this place—its spirit, its people, its magic—run too deep to disappear.

For now, I’ll hold onto this:
Altadena is shifting, and ready to be born anew.

I love you, Altadena. #altadena #alovestory

Altadena was everything. Is everything.

Growing up in L.A., raised on the Westside in Venice Beach, I never ventured east of the 405—why would I? But life has a way of guiding you where you need to be. The first time I drove out to Altadena to see the little yellow house on the hill, I hesitated—it felt too far. But I needed a space for me and a bunch of chickens and my soon-to-be housemate needed a roommate. And from the moment I arrived, I knew: this must be the place.

Altadena wasn’t just a place to live; it was a heartbeat, a rhythm of community and connection. It was mornings at Amara Café, savoring a damn good breakfast burrito. It was trips to Steve’s Pets, picking up food for the menagerie. It was stops at Altadena Hardware, where the employees knew your name and helped you with the tiniest of projects. It was a Murphy’s Green pizza from Side Pie - one of my favs.

It was the mountains in our backyard—Eaton Canyon, Millard Falls, Inspiration Point—where the air felt lighter, the trails stretched endlessly, and the sunsets painted the sky in ways that made you stop and breathe. It was the joy of watching a show at Farnsworth Park, put on by the ridiculously talented Altadena Music Theater. It was neighbors who felt like family, an unspoken camaraderie that wove through every street, every backyard gathering, every simple moment.

And then, on the night of Tuesday January 7th, wind and fire took it all away. Homes, gardens, books, history—reduced to ash. The weight of loss is unbearable. Altadena feels gone.

But maybe, like everything beautiful, it’s only shifting. Maybe Altadena isn’t lost; it’s waiting to bloom again. The roots of this place—its spirit, its people, its magic—run too deep to disappear.

For now, I’ll hold onto this:
Altadena is shifting, and ready to be born anew.

I love you, Altadena. #altadena #alovestory

Altadena was everything. Is everything.

Growing up in L.A., raised on the Westside in Venice Beach, I never ventured east of the 405—why would I? But life has a way of guiding you where you need to be. The first time I drove out to Altadena to see the little yellow house on the hill, I hesitated—it felt too far. But I needed a space for me and a bunch of chickens and my soon-to-be housemate needed a roommate. And from the moment I arrived, I knew: this must be the place.

Altadena wasn’t just a place to live; it was a heartbeat, a rhythm of community and connection. It was mornings at Amara Café, savoring a damn good breakfast burrito. It was trips to Steve’s Pets, picking up food for the menagerie. It was stops at Altadena Hardware, where the employees knew your name and helped you with the tiniest of projects. It was a Murphy’s Green pizza from Side Pie - one of my favs.

It was the mountains in our backyard—Eaton Canyon, Millard Falls, Inspiration Point—where the air felt lighter, the trails stretched endlessly, and the sunsets painted the sky in ways that made you stop and breathe. It was the joy of watching a show at Farnsworth Park, put on by the ridiculously talented Altadena Music Theater. It was neighbors who felt like family, an unspoken camaraderie that wove through every street, every backyard gathering, every simple moment.

And then, on the night of Tuesday January 7th, wind and fire took it all away. Homes, gardens, books, history—reduced to ash. The weight of loss is unbearable. Altadena feels gone.

But maybe, like everything beautiful, it’s only shifting. Maybe Altadena isn’t lost; it’s waiting to bloom again. The roots of this place—its spirit, its people, its magic—run too deep to disappear.

For now, I’ll hold onto this:
Altadena is shifting, and ready to be born anew.

I love you, Altadena. #altadena #alovestory

Altadena was everything. Is everything.

Growing up in L.A., raised on the Westside in Venice Beach, I never ventured east of the 405—why would I? But life has a way of guiding you where you need to be. The first time I drove out to Altadena to see the little yellow house on the hill, I hesitated—it felt too far. But I needed a space for me and a bunch of chickens and my soon-to-be housemate needed a roommate. And from the moment I arrived, I knew: this must be the place.

Altadena wasn’t just a place to live; it was a heartbeat, a rhythm of community and connection. It was mornings at Amara Café, savoring a damn good breakfast burrito. It was trips to Steve’s Pets, picking up food for the menagerie. It was stops at Altadena Hardware, where the employees knew your name and helped you with the tiniest of projects. It was a Murphy’s Green pizza from Side Pie - one of my favs.

It was the mountains in our backyard—Eaton Canyon, Millard Falls, Inspiration Point—where the air felt lighter, the trails stretched endlessly, and the sunsets painted the sky in ways that made you stop and breathe. It was the joy of watching a show at Farnsworth Park, put on by the ridiculously talented Altadena Music Theater. It was neighbors who felt like family, an unspoken camaraderie that wove through every street, every backyard gathering, every simple moment.

And then, on the night of Tuesday January 7th, wind and fire took it all away. Homes, gardens, books, history—reduced to ash. The weight of loss is unbearable. Altadena feels gone.

But maybe, like everything beautiful, it’s only shifting. Maybe Altadena isn’t lost; it’s waiting to bloom again. The roots of this place—its spirit, its people, its magic—run too deep to disappear.

For now, I’ll hold onto this:
Altadena is shifting, and ready to be born anew.

I love you, Altadena. #altadena #alovestory

📍Pico de Orizaba • 18,491 ft

2025 has been a whirlwind - but some cool news I’m proud of: On January 1st, 2025 we summited the tallest mountain in Mexico. Last pic is heading down after a failed attempt a couple days before - completely wiped out and humbled by the altitude.

📍Pico de Orizaba • 18,491 ft

2025 has been a whirlwind - but some cool news I’m proud of: On January 1st, 2025 we summited the tallest mountain in Mexico. Last pic is heading down after a failed attempt a couple days before - completely wiped out and humbled by the altitude.

📍Pico de Orizaba • 18,491 ft

2025 has been a whirlwind - but some cool news I’m proud of: On January 1st, 2025 we summited the tallest mountain in Mexico. Last pic is heading down after a failed attempt a couple days before - completely wiped out and humbled by the altitude.

📍Pico de Orizaba • 18,491 ft

2025 has been a whirlwind - but some cool news I’m proud of: On January 1st, 2025 we summited the tallest mountain in Mexico. Last pic is heading down after a failed attempt a couple days before - completely wiped out and humbled by the altitude.

📍Pico de Orizaba • 18,491 ft

2025 has been a whirlwind - but some cool news I’m proud of: On January 1st, 2025 we summited the tallest mountain in Mexico. Last pic is heading down after a failed attempt a couple days before - completely wiped out and humbled by the altitude.

📍Pico de Orizaba • 18,491 ft

2025 has been a whirlwind - but some cool news I’m proud of: On January 1st, 2025 we summited the tallest mountain in Mexico. Last pic is heading down after a failed attempt a couple days before - completely wiped out and humbled by the altitude.

📍Pico de Orizaba • 18,491 ft

2025 has been a whirlwind - but some cool news I’m proud of: On January 1st, 2025 we summited the tallest mountain in Mexico. Last pic is heading down after a failed attempt a couple days before - completely wiped out and humbled by the altitude.

📍Pico de Orizaba • 18,491 ft

2025 has been a whirlwind - but some cool news I’m proud of: On January 1st, 2025 we summited the tallest mountain in Mexico. Last pic is heading down after a failed attempt a couple days before - completely wiped out and humbled by the altitude.

📍Pico de Orizaba • 18,491 ft

2025 has been a whirlwind - but some cool news I’m proud of: On January 1st, 2025 we summited the tallest mountain in Mexico. Last pic is heading down after a failed attempt a couple days before - completely wiped out and humbled by the altitude.

📍Joshua Tree National Park, California • November 2024

📍Joshua Tree National Park, California • November 2024