Sarah Bray launched an effective, fun way to boost your website’s juju, and it’s called Weekly Hot Dates With Your Website.

I really think it’s creatively genius. And smarty-smart. And valuable.

And so I decided to interview Sarah about it. My FIRST interview on caligater.com. Whee! And I actually shipped off these interview questions to Sarah before she brought me onto her team as Master of Ceremonies. Too funny. :)

Sarah does incredible, strategic web design. She doesn’t just make pretty things (though her designs are most certainly gorgeous)—she helps business to be smart about how they craft their online presence. She helps businesses thrive.

Interview with Sarah Bray

Meet Sarah. She's someone you should get to know.

1. Was there a specific event/conversation/image in your toast/tweet that sparked the Weekly Hot Dates? Or was it a gradual build?

Sarah: Haha…you know how I love toast! But no, my toast didn’t whisper sweet nothings in my ear (this time). Going to the 99% conference this year reminded me that genius is only 1% inspiration. The rest is persistent, intelligent work. Not just doing things, but doing the right things.

The reason I decided to do the Hot Dates was really for my clients. We build this amazing thing together…and then what? It’s up to them to make it happen. I wanted to develop something that would support them through the happening. I wanted them to love their website as much as I did (and in return, have their website love them back). And the only way to do that is to spend time with it.

2. It’s fantastic that Weekly Hot Dates shifts the paradigm around having a website: you encourage people to have an ongoing relationship with their website (rather than a hit-publish-and-I-never-look-at-it-again relationship). How do you maintain this steamy relationship with your website?

Sarah: One of the tools that we use on our Hot Dates is a timer. It sounds cheesy, but it really works. Any time that I need to focus creatively on something, I set my timer for half an hour (in fact, my timer’s on right now!). When it goes off, I have permission to finish. The caveat is, there are no interruptions. No Facebook, no Twitter. No emails squandering my attention.

I have four areas that I focus on every single day, each for only 30 minutes. One of those areas is my website. I get more done in that 30 minutes than I do in a lifetime of to-do lists.

3. You want to “create a more meaningful web”— by helping people get clear on what they offer and how to better connect with their audiences. What else does “more meaningful” look like to you?

Sarah: I’ve talked to you personally about this, but it’s really about craftsmanship. About putting the quality back in our work. I think a lot of people take the “just put it out there; at least it’s something” advice, and that’s ruining the web. We feel better about ourselves and our world when we are giving our all to our work.

4. Your company, S.Joy Studios, is a team of 4 people. You’ve talked about how you maintain your momentum. What are some ways you cultivate the momentum of your team?

Sarah: This is really funny, because you wrote these interview questions before I ended up hiring you — actually, before I even realized I was hiring for that position (and for the record, this interview had nothing to do with it…lol). So now we are a team of four, including myself.

January was really a turning point for me in my role as a leader. When I first started building the team, I thought, “Oh my gosh, I can’t do this alone anymore. This is too much.” And so I treated it that way — getting anything and everything I could off of my plate.

I realize now that I was completely burned out. It took me six months to figure that out, and to get energized about leadership. Since then, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about the future of our company; who we are and what that culture looks like. Without vision, momentum can’t exist – there is no driving force behind it.

So really, I’m still figuring that out. Right now, it’s about meeting up regularly and being present with everyone (that’s more of a challenge than it seems, since there are always more “urgent” things happening). I’m just sharing my excitement with them; when something is truly worth doing, you don’t have to make people get it. You just have to share it; it develops a momentum of its own.

5. Speaking of momentum, you recently attended the 99% Conference in New York City. What’s one make-ideas-happen nugget you took away from the conference?

Sarah: One hour less sleep does not mean one hour more of productivity! It sounds silly, but I really believe in filling the well now…before, I thought I believed it, but I regularly pushed myself to work harder, faster, smarter. Now I know that breaks are an essential piece of productivity. I can’t give myself more hours. I can learn to protect and invest in my creative energy.

6. Did you draw Mo? Because he’s perfectly, nerdily charming.

Sarah: Haha…no, I didn’t! I bought him. It was one of those things where I wasn’t actively looking for anything — he just appeared in my life, and I knew he was the one. I was actually planning on hiring an illustrator for the project before he dropped in my lap. Glad you like him!

Thank you, Sarah, for droppin’ your knowledge!

(Say “Hi!” to Sarah on Twitter: @sarahjbray)

Since I’m often long-winded, I’ll give you the skivvy about Weekly Hot Dates in short order:

What: Weekly “dates” in the form of emails with a workbook-style download. In that “date,” Sarah prompts you to think critically about your website: how to make it better tell your story, how to increase conversions or make more profit, how to be strategic about your online presence.

How: You sign up and immediately receive your first date. You can complete your dates on your own timeline, but you’ll get a new date each week. It’s an investment of $32/month—pretty cheap for weekly dates, huh? (Psst – yep, I’m an affiliate. First time I’ve ever done the affiliate thing. Because I hadn’t found something I was willing to share until now!)

Bonus: Every time you complete a date, you can email a super-secret email address and receive a reward. Yay rewards!

Community: You know how I love community. And I was thrilled when Sarah created a Facebook group and a Twitter hashtag. There are tons of really creative, fun people who are also dating their websites. So cool.

When: The community has grown so much that Sarah will be closing registration for Weekly Hot Dates this Friday, June 17th. So…time is of the essence.

Your website wants to take you on a hot date. Read its letter to you (it’s really sweet).

How to Fall in Love: A Beginner’s Guide – Jen Lemen

Falling in love with ideas, with places, with people. “At first falling in love will exhaust you, but it’s only because you’re new and paying attention takes concentration and there’s always the horrific chance that the other person will shame you or be terrified because you were so incredibly present, but that’s the chance you have to take.”

The Value of Following Passion in a Jobless World – The Atlantic

This landed in the absolute favorite essays/writings bookmark pile. “Passion” is lobbed around quite a bit in my orbit (on Twitter, in the start-up scene, amongst friends and family)—sometimes used as a loose, feel-good term, sometimes used in a dictionary-definition way. This essay defines passion in a contextual way. Powerful writing.

“…passion is one of the most important elements in any effort to improve a community, build something of value in the world, and even survive tough times or a daunting economy. The fact that it also tends to lead to a sense of fulfillment within an individual is certainly one of its benefits—but it’s not the driving force that compels someone down the passion road.”

Defining Community Building – Derek Shanahan

Community-building: a topic very near to my heart. Derek is pioneer in his talents of building community. As I’ve watched him do his thang with 20SB and Foodtree over the past couple of years, I’m impressed by his humility, grace and, well, just plain smarts in setting a container for community. Go, read.

Reverb – June Prompt & Resources to Light Your Creative Fire

This month’s creative prompt came from HQ Heart (that would be Gwen and I)—a question that I believe we all must ask ourselves every day. And the creative resources? Well, there was so much good stuff to share this month. Use the prompt + resources to find inspiration to blog, to reflect, to manifest.

Follow the Rabbit Holes – Havi

I keep returning to this post, reminding myself that my fluid and spontaneous path into, atop and through creativity is okay.

{Sounds} – J.Period

J.Period is, in my not-very-humble-opinion, one of the most underrated producers in hip hop today. I lurve the Wake Up! Radio album (I’ve had it on repeat for the past month). And in the last few days, I’ve been digging this tribute to Michael Jackson—the remixing and sampling is subtle—but tells a story. I dig. {Psst – J.Period posts up these albums as free downloads. Go git ‘em!}

{Image} – via

I don’t know what’s happening here, but I like it.

I’m so SQUEE today: I’m joining S.Joy Studios — Sarah J Bray’s glowing, brilliant company — as Master of Ceremonies (is that not the most ridiculously fantastic title?!).

Sarah gave me an incredibly warm welcome (where she talks about how we met, what I’ll be doing with the agency, and pancakes. Mmm…!)  —->

I have been dancing on clouds since finding out that I was joining their team!

Know what else is neat? I’m still going to maintain Swaggering Vernacular, taking on really awesome client copywriting projects…but on a much more pared-down basis.

So, I still get to write—which is something I love doing. But what I love doing ever more-er than writing? Cultivating relationships. And working with a brilliant team. And I get to do both of those things as part of S.Joy Studios. I get to work with brainstorming genius @juliannecherie and coding genius @leahcreates! (I’m quickly adopting Sarah’s penchant for calling people “geniuses” — you know, that Thing we ALL have…the Thing we both love to do and are also skilled at in the most craftsman-like way possible).

I’m growing into my genius.

(I really feel that way…I’m realizing that the golden thread in all of my incredible jobs—from being a sales manager for a national brewery-restaurant group to being a project manager at a marketing agency to starting my own consulting business—has been relationship: connecting with people and dancing into communication with them to accomplish a goal. Neat.)

I’ve answered that question three and a half dozen different ways since returning from a conference that brought together 600 passionate people to talk innovation, startups, entrepreneurship and life. But the word I’ve used in all of my answers to that question? Transformative.

I can confidently say Big Omaha transformed me. And I will swagger out onto a limb and venture that the conference was transformative in one way or another for its attendees, organizers and speakers, too.

It sounds audacious, right? That this conference actually transformed me. But it did. Because it pushed a lot of my personal+professional boundaries. It connected me with heart-embiggening people. It challenged me to step into my skin. It made me think—lots—about my life-work.

Eenie, Meenie, Miney Moe — What Do I Do, Again?

Oy. When people ask me what I do, I often laugh and respond tartly: “I do awesome things.” “I’m a gater!”

Which doesn’t actually help people understand what I do.

At Big Omaha, I thought about dancing when people asked me what I do. I thought about fluidity. And so depending on the tone of our conversation, or what I knew about the other person, or who it was that introduced us, I chose from a variety of answers: I’m a copywriter. I’m a community builder. I’m working on a thesis in social entrepreneurship. I cofounded Reverb.

And it felt good to be flexible in my answers. Rather than shirking the question with a tart response, I answered genuinely. Instead of only talking about what I do that earns me money (copywriting & community management), I let the context inspire my response.

So all those people I met? They each have very different ideas about who I am and what I do. That’s kindoftotally awesome.

Owning “what I do”? Transformative.

Hey! People Think My Thesis is COOL!

WOWZERS. In Boulder, I catch flack about being in grad school (i.e., it’s a waste of time, waste of money, you should be out there shipping!).

At Big Omaha, someone asked, “Um, can I pay you to have a copy of your thesis when you’re done? I need that.” And they weren’t just being funny.

I now have someone who’s offered to pay to read my research (of course they’re getting a copy of my thesis priority-mailed to them when I’m done…I’m looking at you, Andy). Another amazing person offered to read drafts (thanks, Greg!). Someone else suggested (and then suggested several more times) that I publish (thank you, Jen!). I’m humbled.

Dust-covered masters’ theses on bookshelves across the country high-fived each other each time someone showed excitement about my work (I just know it).

Being reminded that my academic work is parallel to and as important as my non-academic work? Transformative.

About as Comfortable as a Cheap Wool Sweater on Bare Skin: My Comfort Zones

Know what I really found out? That I prefer one-on-one or small group connections. The happy hours and parties were so well-done and a blast, but I tended to shrink in those environments. No matter how many people describe me as bubbly, outgoing or uber-social—well, it doesn’t always stick. At Big Omaha I often chose to have an intense, super-connected conversation with one person versus a light conversation in a big group.

If this lands me in the “too serious” or “too intense” pile, that’s cool. I’ve discovered that the one-on-one connections are where I thrive. It’s an awesome discovery.

Acknowledging my areas of insecurity? Transformative.

+++
I wouldn’t have had this transformative experience without Zaarly. I won their Twitter contest for a ticket to the sold-out conference. The resulting “SQUEEEE!” defied all squees.

No one from Zaarly asked for anything in return—they didn’t ask for a mention on Twitter, nor a blog post highlighting the start-up—nothin’. I connected with founder & CEO Bo Fishback after Big Omaha, and he simply said: “We couldn’t have ended up with a better person to have there with us.” The people behind Zaarly are the real deal.

I think Zaarly has a fantastic launch story (really, how did they create such an amazing national grassroots support base?!). Check out zaarly.com or the iPhone app.

Hey Zaarly — THANK YOU. <3

One thousand tears from my implacable fingers
One thousand drops of slow blue blood
One thousand prayers for guidance and direction

I have pried open
then sewn up
this verging, fertile heartland
dug up stunted growths
planted expectant seeds

Tonight I’ve gathered
qualms
long pangs
and small scruples

Tonight I’ve scattered
desires
gentle words
and prudent truths

I have unearthed
my emotional withholdings
restored the capacity to trust [you]
allotted terrain in my heartland

I’ve written one thousand words tonight
One thousand forward movements
One thousand exhalations of hope
One thousand whisperings of gratitude

Fellow Reverb-er (and a bright, sweet person) Bahieh saw this tweet and suggested that we write a tandem post about these tough kinds of conversations. I’m thrilled to be collaborating with her. Her tandem post, “We Need to Talk,” is here. And I’m really glad she suggested exploring this topic.

Rather than crafting a new post, I’ve decided to share my stream-of-thought journal entry, written the same night I sent the tweet. I’ve lightly edited it only to remove names and provide teensy transitions. But for the most part, it’s raw. It may not make a lick of sense. And I’m okay with that.

+++

“The tough, heart-piercing/opening conversations? Trying to dance into those with grace. It’s difficult work.”

This tweet is—for the most part—in response to an email that ripped me wide open. An email from someone that was a once-important part of my life. And the ripping isn’t so much a bad thing insofar as it’s a thing. The heart-ripping is…an experience.

Heart-ripped.

And the email begged a response—a response that I was terrified and resistant to write…but I knew I had to respond. So I wrote. Showed my ripped heart. The words melted off of my fingers in tenderness, but didn’t bow or break. I was compassionate, but firm.

Sharing conversation (even if that conversation is over email) with someone that rips my heart wide open is a deeply freeing experience.

It’s not freeing in a trite, cheesy way. It’s freeing because it means I’m no longer holding on to ideas that I’m scared to share. I’m no longer filtering. I’m no longer telling someone what I think they want to hear. No. Instead, it means complete openness. It means saying what’s on my heart-mind.

And this openness doesn’t always mean brutal, blunt words. Not at all. I’m learning that this kind of Open Truth-Telling is a practice. It’s a practice that requires compassion toward myself and compassion toward the person with whom I’m conversing.

Open Truth-Telling is about giving.

I can give nothing more than my honesty. I have nothing more than the truth I know. And I grow into and simultaneously out of some truths; like a tree, my roots curl through the Earth and my leaves and branches stretch out and up. I move in all directions. I truth-tell in three dimensions. I truth tell in Virtual Reality and in Actual Reality and in night-vision. I truth tell with substance and with the texture of skin.

I want grace in my truth-telling. Like the way that I dance. As I had the heart-piercing conversation, I imagined myself on a dance floor, dancing to one of the heart-wrenching salsa romantica songs that La Candela often croons. The kind of salsa song that makes your heart ache a little, whether or not you understand the words.

I thought about the way I’d move my body, just as the lead female vocal’s vibrato stretched past even the horn section of the band at the end of a particularly long, lingering verse. My slow stride toward my dance partner, before he’d lead me into a right turn, across his body, and then out into a one-handed grip that allows me to sink into my hips. That kind of grace.

Grace is: compassion in the trenches of heartache. Grace is: compassion in the wake of heartache. Grace is: compassion when the heartache reappears after you thought it’d been smoothed out.

Graceful, open truth-telling. Leaning into the edge…and then beyond.

——-

If you haven’t already, I encourage you to read Bahieh’s post rightthisveryminute. She beautifully dances into the grounded part of these heart-piercing conversations. What she says resonates deeply for me. Go. Read.

<< Meet Bahieh. I love her Twitter bio (@bahiehk) for its simplicity—and depth. Plus, she quotes Kahlil Gibran…one of my favorite writers/philosophers:

‘It is when you give of yourself that you truly give.’ – Khalil Gibran. based in Latin America + persian background + currently spending time in Europe.

One sales person immediately grabbed black, pointy-toe, 3-inch stiletto pumps. I’m not sure how she knew my shoe size.

The other sales person cocked his head, squinted his eyes, pondered. He wasn’t so much sizing me up as he was crafting an art piece of an outfit in his imagination. Then he opened the jewelry case and picked out a chunky, over-the-top, key-and-locket chain necklace.

I fidgeted a bit, tugging at the hemline…but I knew it: the dress was a hit.

+++

Curitiba, Brazil. 

I could barely say more than “tem desconto?” in Portuguese to ask for a discount.

Camilla, Rebecca, Mike and I were in a punk designer store.* Lots of asymmetrical black clothing, gaudy rhinestones set in sterling silver chunky rings, and too-high heels. Electronic music—not pulsing—but just enough to make you want to groove a little. No other customers.

When I spotted the dress, I laughed at its absurdity. And then promptly snuck into a dressing room to try it on. Fuschia and black zebra pattern. Crazy, colorful patches hand-sewn onto one side of the hemline: “Gabba Gabba Hey!” and “Motor City Baby” and a patch with a woman’s face outlined on it and the name “Joey.” Short, but with a sweet and fluttery hemline.

+++

Once I donned the stilettos and necklace, the clothing designer himself came downstairs (from what I only presumed to be his très chic design room in the upstairs loft), apparently called down by one of the salespeople.

He looked at me, then nodded his head in approval.

He knew I didn’t speak Portuguese…and really, there was no need for dialogue. It was merely an act of him approving the frame & canvas for his art. I was a frame for his masterpiece outfit. And I felt like a work of art.

I bought the dress, shoes and necklace.

+++

The dress hangs in my closet. It still fits; it’s still stylish. But I’m not comfortable wearing it right now.

+++

My pale skin may as well be hanging right next to The Brazil Dress.

The last many weeks have been full of growth—emotionally, professionally, heartfully. And perhaps more than anything, I’ve recognized the responsibility and leadership I’m coming into. And it terrifies me. So I step out of my skin.

My skin hangs next to the dress. I look at it longingly, knowing it has the power to transform me if only I’d slip it on.

Like the Brazilian clothing designer giving me the nod of approval, so has Zachariah. And Gwen. And Dad. They’ve given me the nods of approval, knowing that if I can wear my skin with a bit of swagger, I’ll be a walking piece of art.

I need to give myself the nod of approval. And then put my skin back on.

*this designer

Over the last month I’ve put on my big-girl pants and I’ve gotten legit. An LLC, an employee identification number, a business bank account—oh my! I’m really doin’ this thang.

Oh yeah—and that little ol’ thing called a WEBSITE.

Fuzzies to those who’ve been instrumental in making this happen: Shelly (my amazing sister who designed the logo!), Brent, Mark & Tim.

Okay, I know you aren’t really reading this. Just click the logo, already!

www.swaggeringvernacular.com

{Listening to The Roots’ “Sacrifice” as my anthem for launching my new business.}

Hi! Howdy. ‘Sup. HOLLER! It’s crazy-snowy in Boulder. I’ve been spending a lot of time with family and with my nearest & dearest. I’ve been working on projects, working on business, working on my thesis. I’ve been working on myself. I’ve had challenging, vulnerable conversations. I’ve had life-giving conversations. (Those two types of conversations usually come hand-in-hand.) I’ve been writing and drawing and dancing. For the first time in many years, I am really, really loving winter. And! AND. I will be launching my spanky-new business site on Friday. YAYZORGZ!

Reverb is a Verb

I’m missing the intensity of story-telling and community of December’s #reverb10. But, reverb is not gone! We’ll be sending out a monthly email that will include a prompt, yummy resources and other reflecting/manifesting things we come across. View the February email & prompt. Let me know if you respond to it, okay? I’d love to see your response.

Digital Evolution / #blogevol

Gwen has been leaning into edges: the big, easy-not-to-think-about-if-you-don’t-want-to-(but-you-really-should-consider) questions about how the internet and the technology we consume is affecting our lives. And, how it can evolve. She shares how she is deepening her digital practice.

Alongside thinking about my digital practice, I saw this round-up of EDGE editions—including the most recent edition of EDGE, that poses the question, “Is the Internet Changing the Way You Think?” For me, it changes the way I think insomuch as it has helped inform how I think of solving problems, how I think of story-telling, how I think of connecting.

Interview with Pablo Neruda

This interview with Pablo Neruda on The Paris Review is just…beautiful. Neruda is one of my favorite poets.

A verse from Neruda’s poem, “Poetry”:

I did not know what to say, my mouth
had no way
with names,
my eyes were blind,
and something started in my soul,
fever or forgotten wings,
and I made my own way,
deciphering
that fire,
and I wrote the first faint line,
faint, without substance, pure
nonsense,
pure wisdom
of someone who knows nothing,
and suddenly I saw
the heavens
unfastened
and open,
planets,
palpitating plantations,
shadow perforated,
riddled
with arrows, fire and flowers,
the winding night, the universe.

And this, because it cracks me up:

via

#reverb10 – Beyond Avoidance.
What should you have done this year but didn’t because you were too scared, worried, unsure, busy or otherwise deterred from doing? (Bonus: Will you do it?)
(Author: Jake Nickell — @skaw)

I’m a social scientist.

A rare 2010 moment in which I work on my thesis. Photo cred: @CohereLLC

Or, I’m becoming one.

See, I’m a total dork. I absolutely LOVE higher ed. I love being around people who are actively working on exercising their brains, who love to grapple with ideas, who seek to honor and create their life-work and life-learning. And while I’ve found such people in all parts of my life, the environment of academia sweeps me off my feet (despite its bureaucracy and ivory tower-ness).

I’m currently working on my third degree—a master of social sciences degree. I powered through and completed all of my coursework in two years, taking a full-time graduate load and spending many, many hours in the stacks and in cafes.

I quit my job a year ago so I could focus exclusively on school. But “exclusively on school” became “inclusively of everything but school.” I finished up my last graduate course in May, and then my intention was to jump fully into researching and writing my thesis (the thesis being my last project in order to earn my master’s). I thought I’d have all the time in the world to read & write—no courses to take, no traditional work hours…just me, some books & journal articles, and my laptop.

But ya know what happened instead?

• I focused on working for myself (both trying to figure out what I wanted to do work-wise, and doing work just so I could pay my bills).
• I was VERY social—I spent time with loved ones and attended & helped plan tons of local events.
• I was in a relationship.
• And, I basically let my thesis hover in the Doesn’t This Thing Write Itself? part of my brain.

As it turns out, my thesis didn’t write itself.

As summer came to a close and I had piddly work to show for my thesis, I began avoiding my thesis full-out. I should have had so much done. I should have sought out professors for my thesis committee. I should have the calluses on my fingers to prove how much I’d written. But because I hadn’t satisfied any of these shoulds, I buried my head in the academic sand.

Totally avoided something that I’ve always been so passionate about. Weird.

2011 puts me back on the road to becoming a social scientist.

A  huge part of my grad school inspiration comes from the brilliant, insanely hard-working, reach-for-the-stars Alex. She writes at The Tao of Grad School, and through knowing her as a friend AND the grad life she writes about, I’m motivated to keep knucklin’ and brawlin’.

So. I’m devoting 25-30hrs/week to my thesis. I’m going to gather a fantastic thesis committee. I’m seeking funding to do a bit of research in Toronto. And I really hope to defend in May of 2011. It may be a crazy timeline, but I believe I can do it.

So here’s to gettin’ my dork on. Again.