Our journey across the Southwest becomes a more powerful spiritual journey each day. Through the people we meet, and the stories that are shared with us, the more each of us see bits of ourselves in these women. They share stories of rebellion, of being headstrong, they tell us about how they broke the rules, or didn’t do what was expected of them, or how they followed their heart and their calling to create the things they knew had to be done. In the case of Georgia O’Keefe and Millicent Rogers, other people shared their stories for them. Each and every woman we’ve met (men too!) has, as expected, caused us to look back within ourselves and evaluate our own journeys. Have we found our passions like these women have? Have we found our own calling in life?
On Thursday May 23rd Aliza and I cruised highway 95 up to Las Vegas to check out our RV, check into to the Oasis Las Vegas RV Resort and set up camp for the incoming ladies (we made a dancing Vine HERE). Carol Cain flew in from New Jersey (and technically straight from France when we picked her up) Carla King from San Diego, Chelsea Duran from my beloved Boulder, Colorado and Melissa Pierce from Chicago, Illinois. Aliza and I played the welcoming crew in our Whiskey Sister shirts all morning as everyone landed in sunny Sin City.
A newbie to the world of distilled liqueurs, I’ll soon be devoting my research to not only whiskey, but whiskey in the West and the women who helped shaped that history. I’ll be searching out the kinds of women you’d find.. perhaps drinking a glass of whiskey to feature in the upcoming Whiskey Sister Herstory Tour. I am setting out on a historic RV Adventure through the past. On Thursday May 22nd, Aliza Sherman and I will drive up to Las Vegas to gather four amazing women who will celebrate the premier of the whiskey for “Real Women Who Drink Whiskey.” Continue reading
It’s funny, the things you realize about yourself at 2:00 AM. Maybe you realize it while wandering around the desolate Sunday evening streets of Hollywood, or maybe while climbing an impossible hill. My brother and I walked down from the Puscifer concert at the Greek Theatre in L.A around 11:15 PM this last Sunday night. We had been counting down to the date since the previous year. Tickets came out in December and sold out as fast as they came out, I was without a ticket. My brother had two. Last month while I was in Colorado shortly after I’d handed my brother a bottle of Maynard’s Chubacabra wine I’d brought up from Arizona, Kent handed me a ticket to Cinquanta. Continue reading