Corn dogs and carneys are typically the first things to come to mind when the word “carnival” pops up. But is there some alternate universe in which the subversive, divergent existence of carnival culture is rooted in something slightly… sexier?

There was a lot of talk about “slowing down” and “conscious this-or-that” this year, and though the longevity of the movement might be presently disputed I still find myself thinking about how nice rejecting the rat race mentality feels.

Rarely does an opportunity that seems so straightforward and obvious pop up, but when I received the signal to cover a wellness retreat in Tuscany, I had never felt more clarity about anything.

I’ve always been a casual believer in folk healing and insight methods. Given the opportunity, I’d jump to have my cards read, my palm analyzed, my birth chart dissected.

I’m a pretty flexible person. I have no dietary restrictions and I change up my skincare routine regularly; I drink both red and white wine. But when it comes to the big decisions (will this job impact the course of my career and personal life for the foreseeable future? Will I still get to dictate my own vacation time?) I freeze

No one ever says working for yourself as being easy… because it's not! There’s the increased competition, building and maintaining your own schedule, and less resources than an established company would be able to provide for you. Staying motivated and keeping your sh*t together can be a challenge.

I’m a firm believer that the home is the ultimate expression of style and creativity. Each piece of furniture, artwork, pillow and plate is an opportunity to infuse personality into your space while surrounding yourself with things that bring joy.

Phoenicians are quick to chime in with “but it’s a dry heat!” in the face of my skepticism; and while I’m still not totally convinced, I did have a major turning point in my desert attitude during a quick and hot trip to Phoenix... thanks to Frank Lloyd Wright.

As Perlmutter snapped photos, I swam, aimlessly and nakedly, feeling every current and swirl lick the skin on my forearms, belly, thighs. I swam in circles, I swam north to south and back again; I tried to touch the bottom, but I didn't stay down long. When I would surface, my face would break through probing tongues of wetness, and for a split second even the warm air seemed cool. I was unaware, carefree, weightless.