Ptarmigan Ridge Hiking Photography | Mount Baker, WA

Skip to the content

Home
Coaching
Projects
About
Store
- Fine Art Prints
- Stickers!
Contact

Home
Coaching
Projects
About
Store
- Fine Art Prints
- Stickers!
Contact

Home
Coaching
Projects
About
Store
- Fine Art Prints
- Stickers!
Contact

HomeOutdoor LifestyleGirls’ Hiking Trip – Ptarmigan Ridge, Mount Baker

Girls’ Hiking Trip – Ptarmigan Ridge, Mount Baker

Personal Project: Hiking Ptarmigan Ridge, Mount Baker

Share:

fb
tw
pn

Woolly Undies | Seattle-Based Merino

Outdoor Lifestyle

Let‘s Make Magic

Together

About Savannah
Projects
- Beast Goddess
- The Primal Revolution
Contact

Let's Connect!

savannah(at)
theprimalrevolution.com

IG TW

Subscribe to Reclaiming the Wild Woman to join my latest adventures of a life inspired.

hi, I'm Savannah!

📍 Bellingham, WA

I came up with "The Primal Revolution" in 2013, & have since been fine-tuning what that actually means to me.

The definition is always evolving, but at the core, I am unravelling the layers of the ultimate human experience.

What makes us human, why does it matter, & how do we get there?

See you on the road,
x

Let's Connect

savannah(at)theprimalrevolution.com

Instagram
Facebook
500px
LinkedIn

Instagram

_beastgoddess_

If I can make any promises to you, I can promise y

If I can make any promises to you, I can promise you this. I will never be the person who looks at you, eyes heavy with defeat, and says, “This is all there is to life.”This is it. Accept it. Trudge on. No, that is the voice of those who walk their path with reality as their only source of paving stones. My sources spread far and wide. There will always be another way. A better way. Because I source my life from dreams and hope and a colorful imagination. It is a small life to dip your paintbrush into the waters of reality, and nothing else. Revolutions weren’t formed from the pain and limitations of what is; they were dreamed from the hopes of what could be. If only, if only, if only — the chant of dreamers who become doers.Yes, I can promise you this. That I will forever be the person who walks a path paved by dreams.And if that is too much? Not enough? Then feel free to crucify me, to burn me at the stake. Because the flame is the conduit through which I transform.And through fire and ember, the constraints of the world will fall to ash.New growth, a new world, rewritten. 📍self portrait backpacking with Bonnie (can you spot her? 🐶)

“So, how do you like to spend your time alone with

“So, how do you like to spend your time alone with yourself?”I’ve been thinking a lot about what makes me “me” lately. What are the perks of Savannah? When we are with ourselves all the time, it’s easy to take ourselves for granted.Well, a lot of people can’t spend time alone with themselves. They scroll through screens or wait to be invited. They distract themselves or stimulate or numb themselves.When I get down on myself… is that the “golden standard” that I’m comparing myself to?Even if I have unmet goals right now… Being here in this life as “me” seems pretty okay. Camping alone. Making my art. Growing. Learning. Being. Ticking the boxes of “when I am most me.”

I will never be a double black diamond anything.

I will never be a double black diamond anything.I will never be the fittest in the world. I will never be the best at snowboarding.Mountain biking.Rucking.Swimming.Writing.Poetry. I will never be the number one at anything. Except myself. At the end of the day, all I can be is the best version of myself. And the recipe that makes me up — it’s one that no one has brewed before.I will never be one of the cool kids, but I will always be me.When Brooke @wildworldwanderings captured me frolicking in the woods, I was in a first stage of healing.I had the thought: the most attractive thing you can do is choose yourself. But as days and weeks passed, I began to erase that sentence and replace it with: fuck being attractive, I just want to be me. I don’t care if it resonates or attracts or repels. I just want to be me.Thank you Brooke for capturing me, for healing and creating with me. Thank you for reflecting the words of the goddess back to me. For the camera to be a mirror that captures what I can’t see with my own eyes. ❤️ (Don’t worry guys, the pictures are cens0red!)

I will only tolerate censorship when done by flowe

This just in: the all new Canyon Lux Trail. Fast

In case you missed it: back in April, I spoke up a

In case you missed it: back in April, I spoke up about sexual assault from a photographer in 2020.I had just returned to Stockholm (where it had happened), & during a long run, my nervous system melted me down into a puddle of tears.Over the last years, I had shared a small part of the story with partners, paired with a shrug of the shoulders.I carried the blame of what happened, convincing myself that I must not have understood an agreement that I unknowingly signed up for. And in the end, it was my fault.I told the story with a shrug of the shoulders, because nude modeling is already something that is pushing comfort zones for people in partnership. In order to be loved & accepted, I needed to be trusted, which meant that I needed others to trust the people I was working with.And when something bad happened? I couldn’t be a victim, because that would make me weak. I couldn’t let another person be the cause of broken trust. I had to be the fixer. I had the be the one to carry the ownership.In the end, this wasn’t fair to me. Over the years it began to fester beneath the surface of wounds not tended to. And over the last year, those wounds begin to subconsciously eat away at my relationships & my internal safety systems.What happened next? If you read the essay, you know that I reached out to the photographer. The short of it is that he made it about himself. He despaired to me about his depression & how the violation made us both feel bad.As I’ve been working with my therapist these last couple of weeks, we’re uncovering this pattern: of men who turn my feelings upside down to make it about themselves. Which, ultimately, ends with me questioning my own reality.A pattern in which I ask to be treated a certain way; I express needs & wants & wishes. And the response is a laundry list of excuses as to why it isn’t possible.It seems, in the end, that what I ask for is too much.And as was felt here, that my violation is not even mine to feel — but another place where a man’s emotional minefield must overshadow my own lived experience.What is to be gained? Eventually, I hope, a loving relationship with my body on a journey bac

(3/3) The irony is that if all of me was loved and

(3/3) The irony is that if all of me was loved and supported, I would have felt safe to fully step into my new life. But my mind kept wandering thousands of kilometres away. I told myself there was a reason I had come to Bellingham. There were too many strange things that led me to this part of the world I had never even visited before. But I didn’t fully believe it. See, I have a tendency to be loved in the same way that people have selective hearing. It’s easy to love the idea of me. To pick and choose from the buffet, but never all of me. Not the parts that don’t fit the agenda, or are inconvenient. Thankfully the voice, “I told you so,” is only a whisper. Because I know that behind everything, there is a reason. There is a path that we can’t see at the time.I left my belongings to come back to at the time that I needed it most. Now I’m cutting the cords and letting go, so I can finally experience Bellingham and the expansiveness of the Pacific Northwest with both feet firmly planted on the ground.——————-And with that, el fin. At least el fin for this mini series. You can dive into the full essay that inspired these three posts over on my Subst4ck, Reclaiming the Wild Woman. Reflecting on the visuals of “then vs. now,” has been a beautiful process to fully celebrate the life I once lived, to let it go, and to step forward with two feet fully planted.Here’s to transitions. The closing of chapters and the writing of new ones. 💓🔍 Bellingham photographer, woolly undies, PNW lifestyle, Goruck, MILRUCK, self love coach

(2/3) Besides the more conventional aspects of my

(2/3) Besides the more conventional aspects of my art and my work, what was also no longer acceptable was my love of independent international travel. Something I’ve done since I was 16. A core of who I am was villainised because I was supposed to want to “settle.” In someone else’s small-minded worldview, the two couldn’t co-exist. I had to choose. Even though, when I left Sweden, I had a big audacious dream to put down roots and “settle down,” while continuing to explore with curiosity. To rekindle inspiration behind my art and my work, to continue to expand. I knew that if anyone was going to love me in the way I needed, they had to support my independence and free spirit. I had to choose, so I shrunk. But I had a tether pulling me back to Sweden, and as fragments of my soul were tucked away out of sight for not fitting the idea of who someone wanted me to be, that tether became my lifeline. At least in Sweden, people had witnessed my unfiltered expansiveness. My big, hairy, audacious life. Sweden was my parachute. I kept one foot firmly planted across the ocean. I couldn’t see or feel how great my life in the Pacific Northwest was becoming, because I was clinging to a part of my identity that others couldn’t erase. And that made it threatening, which gave me power — even if it wasn’t the power that I needed. (And part of the kind of power that I need is coming back by sharing these stories, and by creating these “then vs. us” comparisons. Every chapter of this life is beautiful, and this process is allowing me more space to honour each layer of my life, release what was, and appreciate what I’ve been building. The thing that hasn’t changed? It’s always been life on my terms.Which juxtaposition is your favourite? ❤️)🔍 Bellingham photographer, Woolly undies, MILRUCK, healing relationships

(1/3) Stages and layers of healing. “I told you y

(1/3) Stages and layers of healing.“I told you your life in Bellingham is more epic than your life ever was in Sweden.”The taunt of “I told you so” from a ghost has been echoing in my head.But how you talk to me is important. Words matter. And I don’t care if my life is “epic.” That word is empty to me. I care if it is authentic and on purpose and in alignment.When I got into relationship in Bellingham, parts of me began to be erased. There was a facade of open mindedness that lured me in, until it was too late to see the truth. I was no longer allowed to model. I couldn’t have male friends. What I shared online has to be processed through a filter of what was acceptable and “appropriate.” My work was labeled as a cute hobby and not something to be taken seriously. There is a pattern in my life where it seems that men hold the crushing weight of an unspoken assumption over me that once I get into a partnership, how I show up for online and in the world will change. As if what I shared online is nothing more than bait to lure someone in. But there is no “in-relationship Savannah.” There is no “single Savannah.”There is just: Savannah. Either way, the world is going to see my butt. Sorry. 🤷🏼‍♀️(This mini series has inspired me to collect memories of my past life, juxtaposed to the PNW life… then vs. now. Both are incredible… these are the sweet contrasts of life. Stayed tuned for parts 2 & 3.)🔎 Bellingham photographer, self portrait artist, PNW photographer