Illustrations

Boeri

Kalm Photography

Orange Chicken

If you haven't already noticed, I loooove ORANGE.  And what better orange than that super tasty, unbelievably mouth-watering orange you get at Panda Express! Here's a fictitious billboard design I did in honor of my new addiction.

VAL

Here's the new one. About time. I've been busy. Enjoy!

Giving Back

I am very fortunate to be working for a company that is as passionate about philanthropy as I am. Since 1999, my company has contributed millions of dollars of in-kind donations to nonprofit organizations, schools, and hospitals around the country. Wow! This summer I had the opportunity to lend my support to the Special Olympics at UC Davis as well as the Children's Hospital's Angels of Hearts: When I Grow Up right here in Sacramento. I had a great time with the attendees as well as with my colleagues at both events, and could not wait to take part in the next one. So a couple weeks ago when my boss asked if I would be interested in coordinating our last charity event of the year, I immediately took the offer. The event took place this Saturday and it was a fun-filled day with hundreds of children running around doing exactly what they needed to do; just have a blast!  I met a lot of parents and awesome little kids but one person, in particular, who made my experience especially memorable was a young girl named Heather who survived cancer twice. Twice! Way to go, Heather. Most people think giving lifts only the spirit of those who are receiving, but the truth is it does just as much, if not more, for the ones giving.

Hiking

I recently went on a solo hike in Point Reyes National Seashore and it was an amazing experience. I had been planning this hike for quite some time, so I had everything planned from the color socks I would wear to what I was going to pack for lunch and where to stop for gas. Mountain lions were a bit of a concern for me initially but that fear subsided quickly after learning about all the cool things found on this hike, one of which was the population of elk that I never would've imagined existed this close to the ocean. Upon arriving at the Historic Ranch, the starting point of the Tomales Point Trial, I noticed 10 other cars in the parking lot free of people. It was 12:35 pm and although I was not an early bird, I was determined to complete this nine-mile hike before sunset.

It didn't take long to notice the abundance of amazingly beautiful flowers that covered the hills, all fighting for my attention. There were yellow and blue and red and pink and orange flowers of many kinds everywhere, and once in a while there was one or two tiny ones in the middle of the trail pleading for their lives. Fifty feet before me was an approaching hiker, alone like me, stomping down the trail toward me. This guy must've gotten here before sunrise to already be heading back. We exchanged smiles, said hello, and continued on opposite directions as if engaging in conversations was forbidden. Well, for me maybe it was. Even when I am hiking with a companion I limit myself to unnecessary chitchatting as it defeats the purpose of hiking. My hike suddenly shifted gear. The trail has now left the dreamy flowery scene and entered steep hills, flirting with cliffs that offered nothing but a deadly drop to giant boulders hundreds of feet below. 

Within an hour into the hike and after leaving the intimidating cliffs, I came face to face with a thick patch of cloud that sat motionless on top of the giant hill where the trail was leading me. Once I reached the cloud I became bombarded with questions and ridiculous thoughts that almost ended my hike. Is this where the mountain lion will attack me? Shit, what do I do? I'll play dead. Wait! No, I better fight back. But even if I fought off the mountain lion and survived, I'd still be injured and probably wouldn't make it back to my car before nightfall. How am I going to battle hyperthermia? I can't! I won't! Not in these clothes. I'm gonna die! Oh, shut up and keep going, you coward. 

I followed the trail into this mysterious fog and it swallowed me. Although I had been alone all along, I didn't quite feel lonely until now. I felt a little uneasy knowing there were hungry mountain lions around and the only weapon I had was my water bottle. I have to admit that I really wished someone was there with me. That lone hiker I met earlier, perhaps. Or my friend. Or Santa Claus. I honestly didn't care whom; I just didn't want to be the only one on the menu. So there I was hiking alone in the fog at the top of this hill and I could only imagine what was stalking me from beyond my visual boundary. My attempt to shift focus from mountain lions to the gentle grass-eating elk was futile. My imagination quickly matured from merely being attacked to now being tackled at full force from behind and torn apart mercilessly by a ferocious three-hundred-pound cat. I could see myself lying on the ground in a pool of my own blood as my jugular veins dance saliently from my headless neck. Sure, that's a horrible picture but it was the only thing on my mind no matter how many times I said elk in my head. I began to shiver but not because I was cold. I wanted to yell hello and see if anyone was around to respond but couldn't summon the strength to even open my mouth. My jaws were in a battle of their own and I could hear my teeth chattering violently inside my mouth. Needless to say, I was scared to death.



A short moment later, I came across a pile of fresh poop on the trail that gave me a sigh of relief and a significant amount of courage to move forward. The distinctive smell of undigested grass became increasingly apparent as I got closer to it, and I knew it was safe poop. It wasn't long before a four-legged animal materialized from the fog up ahead. But it was much too short to be an elk. Thoughts of mountain lions intruded into my mind once again. Realizing that the best defense was probably scaring off the attacker, I walked on with fists clenched tightly below my chin. I was ready to pound Simba. Scenarios of a victorious beatdown multiplied as I inched closer to this thing. As the distance between us narrowed, its body grew more defined. I quickly learned that it was an elk. He was accompanied by six females and they were all busy feeding, unaware of my intrusion.

This moment was purely magical and almost too unreal. I stopped and gazed at this herd incredulously, trying not to blink because if this was a dream, I sure as hell did not want it to end. My eyes were wide open and I could've sworn my eyebrows had shot off my forehead.  Before I could even contemplate my next move, I had already reached in my pocket and pulled out my phone. I began punching in my code with incredible haste and accuracy. The sound of my phone turning on pierced the silence. All the elk simultaneously scrambled to locate the source of that strange noise. While the females quickly returned to their feeding, the male continued to stare at me. "I'm sorry, captain." I whispered jokingly with a snicker that was louder than my phone moments earlier. Without a warning, he spun around toward me and when his inflating chest rose to meet his chin, a four-letter word escaped my mouth. I was in trouble. I instinctively mimicked his body movement,however, for an entirely different reason. For a brief moment, despite what we each had in mind to do, neither one of us moved. I wasn't sure how he'd kill me, but I knew if he waited any longer, an imminent heart attack would beat him to it. Finally, when he decided I was no longer worthy of his time, he jerked his head and walked away. The group of females followed him gracefully down the hill and one by one they disappeared into the fog. 

As suddenly as the elk appeared, they were gone and I was back to being alone again. I moved onward but remained fixated on these incredible animals. It felt like I'd just walked out of a job interview. A very bad job interview. Did they like me? Nope. Was it a mistake trying to shoot a picture? I don't see why that was so bad. I mean, I could've shot him with something worse. Did I say too much? Maybe. I don't know. This went on for about thirty minutes. Then suddenly the trail swerved to the left down the hill and something unexpected caught my attention, ending my elk obsession. 

I must be nearing the Tomales Point because I could hear a soft whispering of waves crashing in the distance. I hurried forward and the sound grew louder with every step until it was thundering. The surf was quite loud, even from as high as I was on the hill. The roaring sound of it combined with the aromatic smell of sea salt and the mist gently kissing my face created a feeling of complete tranquility. I was experiencing another magical moment. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and held it in. Then with a smile that came without the slightest effort, I exhaled and whispered amen. 

At this point the trail made a sharp upward turn east of the peninsula. I stopped to think about my progress and estimated that I was two thirds the way to Tomales Point. The nasty fog that I was still very much confined to was starting to irritate me; it had done nothing but obscured my view of the ocean and everything else the trail promised. The lunch I was looking forward to was going to be ruined by no view of the ocean. As I moved upward on this seemingly endless trail, the crashing waves gradually softened until they were completely muted by the sound of my feet grinding the sand beneath me. 

After a short steep incline, I reached a plateau that stretched for about a hundred yards. When I approached the end of this straightaway and began my descent on the north side of the hill, I noticed a slight change in temperature. It was getting warmer. For the first time, in what seemed like hours, the fog lifted. I could not forebear screaming in sheer joy at the sight of the glistening pacific that spread infinitely into the horizon like a creaseless table cloth. I let out a loud scream that echoed everywhere, including in my ears. A few seconds later someone responded with a scream that was equally powerful, though much quieter. I looked around to see where this person was but immediately noticed something else: a thin trail snaking up the adjacent hill across from me. On the bottom, I spotted a couple of dark specks slowly tracing the trail downward. What appeared to be just two small dots at first turned out to be a couple of hikers. I shook my head and smiled broodingly when I realized just how big my next hill was. You gotta be kidding me! 

Nevertheless, I was happy to finally see other hikers and didn't care how big the next hill was after all. I just wanted to get more information as far as what lay ahead, dangerous or not. I trotted down the hill like a kid entering a playground and finally met these folks at the base where the two hills met. They were a friendly elderly couple in their seventies and obviously in excellent health. The woman told me her husband hollered at me asking what the weather was like on my side. I must've been distracted by the size of the hill at the time because all I heard was a distant yell that followed mine. They told me how far I was from Tomales Point and about all the wonderful elk I was going to encounter. The man pulled out his Nikon and show me pictures they had taken of these animals. "You are going to love them!" the woman said with both hands resting on her chest. Yeah, I nearly got skewered by one earlier. I didn't want to disappoint them by revealing that I had already seen the elk, so I acted surprised and said, with an over-exaggerated display of exuberance, "Oh my god. Really? There's elk here?" The woman mirrored my excitement and said, "Hun, you better move along now before you miss your chance." Not more than 10 minutes later, I came across other hikers who, like the chatterbox couple earlier, told me I wasn't much farther from Tomales Point.

They were right because after just 15 minutes, I finally reached a small sign that read Tomales Point Ahead. Once I made it to the very end of the trail, I dropped my backpack and crawled to the edge of the cliff to spy on the seals and sea birds that congregated on a small island some ninety feet from Tomales Point. This place was nothing short of spectacular. The wind was just right and the view of the ocean was unbelievable. Perfect spot for a late afternoon lunch. As I pulled out my lunch, I smiled because I knew it was not going to be my last.