Well, it's official, so it's probably time to update the blog.

After months of deliberation and life plans coming together, then falling apart, then coming back together again, it's true: Nick and I are moving to Portland!

In a stunning series of events we could not have foreseen (thanks God), we both landed some pretty incredible jobs at the same time in the amazingly weird world of Portlandia. Nick was just named Head Snowboard Coach at Mt. Hood's premiere action sports camp, Windells (the "funnest" place on Earth). So he's going to be hanging out on a volcano all summer... and the rest of us are immediately jealous.

On a different but equally awesome note, I am now the Creative Writer & Editor at Design Aglow, a prestigious online resource for the success of professional portrait and wedding photographers. It's an incredible opportunity, and I'm honored to be working alongside fellow creatives I very much respect and admire. If you live in Portland come to our Open House on May 19!

In true grownup fashion, Nick and I have been trying to buy a house in PDX ever since mid-February, frustratingly to no avail. Our requirements are simple: not too many dead bodies, has to have some charm, in our budget (obvi), and near public transit so I can get around town easily. Buying a house with that seemingly short list of requirements has been an incredible challenge as the market is swamped with a zillion other fresh faced newly married couples also trying to move there.

(Pssst... hey Portland women who are rad! Hit me up! I need friends!)

At this point in time, I am crashing with a good friend in Portland so I can be close to my new job, while Nick wraps things up in Seattle and gets our condo ready to rent out (let me know if you're looking to move to Ballard!). All the while, we continue to pray that the perfect house comes on the market.

I'm loving my new job and enjoying my new city (and it's food!). There is so much more to update on, but for now, a few photos should tell the story nicely.

My temporary home right now. Lovely, don't you think?

My roommate Sam Yapp, one of my very best friends.

Spring is blooming here. I have the most scenic bike commute ever!

On a business note, you've probably noticed how very neglected my poor blog has been as of late. I have temporarily closed my Shop until life settles down, but will have it reopened with new artwork available very soon! Thanks for sticking with me.

...or teared up, anyway.

Ever since my 2010 diagnosis with retinitis pigmentosa, I have allowed my story to be told in an effort to bring hope to the blind and low vision community, and perhaps even more importantly, to raise awareness. For this reason, often I have written out my "artist-going-blind" mantra: in this blog, in dozens of articles internationally, even in a book. But very rarely do I have the opportunity to verbally share what it's like to slowly lose my vision. Recently I was interviewed by Seattle's King 5 News weeknight program Evening Magazine where I had the opportunity to share a little more about my darkening world, and particularly how Instagram has played such an integral role in my story.

Since Nick & I stubbornly refuse to pay for cable, whenever we want to catch something on TV we often end up watching it while on the elliptical at the gym. Last night was no exception (and yes, I felt a bit ridiculous going to the gym strictly for TV). As I watched my face get choked up on a giant screen overlooking dozens of cardio machines, mindless Seattleites in the middle of their workouts watched with me, gazing up, unaware that I was among them. I was very conscious of how typical that is. My disease doesn't scream out, it's not noticeable; when you're around me you can't tell I have it most of the time. And I'm grateful for that. Grateful that even though at times this disease can feel so very isolating, so very painful... most of the time, I blend in and am just plain normal.

Once again, I owe the many people who have encouraged and supported and prayed for me along the way a gigantic THANK YOU. You help me get through the dark moments; you help me see my faith clearly when it seems to dim. Much love to you all, from the bottom of my heart.