Amy Nieto Photography + Design

I had moved to Las Vegas back in June 2007, after spending five years in Savannah, GA attending college. I had nowhere else to go, so I opted to follow my brother in Vegas. The decision, though of course taken by me, felt like it never came from me, if you follow me. I made the decision so I could shut my brain up and just MOVE somewhere. I knew it was not the right place for me, but I did it anyways. It took me a long time to make friends of my own, but I did, thus making my stay in this desert oasis a little bearable. It was time to go, though.

How did I chose Portland? You really wanna know? Etsy.com. I kept noticing super talented sellers from the city and I thought, There must be something in the water there. After some research, I came to the conclusion Portland sounded like a pretty nifty place to live. After considering Minneapolis (brrrr!) and NYC (I always almost move to NYC. It's a habit, that never comes to fruition). In May 2008 I put a $200 deposit for a guest house, set to move in early August. I had never been to Portland. Or any NW state north of Las Vegas. I knew NOBODY, except for Miss Alyson of Unruly-things. And I really didn't know her in person, we were just blogstalkersfriends.

So on Monday August 4th, 2008, at around 10ish am, with my entire material life packed into my car and with four hours of sleep, I picked up my dearest friend Le Koonds, who would be my sidekick in this quest for the West, and sailed (okay drove) towards uncharted territories (okay, quite charted, I used google maps).

The Nevada desert is harsh, desolate and vast. So harsh, desolate and vast that it is almost poetic. But its rhythm and rhyme never spoke to me and before it could, Koonds and I turned West on Tonopah with intentions on witnessing something grander, beautiful and completely unknown to me: Yosemite National Park.

Like many other natural wonders, Yosemite is breathtaking, neverending, aweinspiring. You drive past wildflowers carelessly relaxing in a field at 9000 feet above sea level and that one little fact there, for me, seems so FANTASTIC. I wondered if the California state line was drawn to where the wildflowers began, because not a single one sprung up during our five hour trek through the Nevada desert. It seemed like a sign. Like greener, brighter things were awaiting me just 15 hours away.

Plans of driving a thousand miles non-stop crumbled due to our aging bodies and silly notions of sleep. After an overnight stop somewhere North of Sacramento (I really do not remember, we were THAT tired), we resumed our trail to Oregon. Right before entering Portland city proper, we had Pearl Jam's Ten playing on our CD, how fitting. We tuned in to the famous Pacific Northwest radio phenomena, birthplace of that short-lived rock genre that sprung up a few years ago, you know, the one with the flannel shirts and the dude that killed himself, and his insane wife. I was torn between reading the directions for the guesthouse and gawking at all these new sights, for I needed to record, capture, memorize these first impressions, this wonderment, this sense of disbelief that we finally made it. That I am here and there is no turning back whatsoever.

The weeks leading to the Grand Move were quite peculiar. I often equate what I felt to trying to comprehend what happens to our souls after physical death. Or wrapping your head around the possibility of the Universe being infinite, but if it's not, what's beyond the edge? What kind of matter exists? These are concepts humans can't quite understand because no living being has experienced them. I had no idea what life in Portland would be like, or heck what it would look like. I was utterly clueless AND I LOVED IT.

And I love it still. Despite the Winter, despite the lack of Sun during 6 months, despite being a sorta Ron Paul Republican in a overwhelmingly Blue State, despite the Pacific Ocean being a block of ice even during Summer, despite the tough times I had earlier this year, despite the lack of jobs, despite returning my car my freedom earlier in June, despite my low-paying day job, despite a photography lull during the Spring. Despite all that, I am the happiest I've ever been.

A lot of AWESOME things are happening in August. First awesome thing, that I've been hinting the past few days? I AM NOW OFFICIALLY LIVING ON MY OWN, NO ROOMMATES. NO NOTHING. JUST PLAIN LITTLE ME IN MY SUPER CUTE BRIGHT LITTLE STUDIO. AND I AM FREAKING LOVING IT SO MUCH IT'S NOT EVEN FUNNY. And guess who is my neighbor just a few blocks away? LINNEA! My photographic partner in crime! Hip hip horay! My mother flew in last night to visit me for the first time. She hasn't stopped talking since she arrived, but that's to be expected.

It's all so amazing. What's also amazing is how it's 2:13 freakin AM and I am still awake. Due to moving and other things I have not been able to sleep past 8 AM for the past 2 weeks AND THAT IS BRUTAL FOR AMY NIETO CRUZ. My mother and I are planning a Puerto Rican dinner at my place next week. Fun!

Here is to all the future adventures the Pacific Northwest has in store for me. Here is to the heartaches that will surely follow as well, I am prepared. Here is to you, my darling blog reader. For being awesome and being a friend along my journey. Here is to my dearest Koonds for driving me out here and I hope he moves here eventually as well (he hates Vegas even more than I did). I miss you.