On The Road Again

September 24, 2020 in Travel

I am headed out on The Road.

I don’t know yet how long I’ll be gone but I’m connecting some dots between some photo jobs, vintage picking and most of all—

Answering the pull to be out amidst new and natural wonders of the country I call home in the simple, free and easy way I miss so much.

Although, I’m not sure how free and easy it will be.

I don’t know what I’ll encounter out there as the world has changed quite a bit since I was last out in it ten months ago.

Granted, The Road for me usually encompasses large periods of time alone, away from people, out in nature.

But I always enjoy meeting others wherever I happen to be. Hearing their story, exchanging some communal goodness and good will between passing kindred spirits.

But now, I won’t be able to interact with people and make friends quite in the same way.

The Road has been built up and elusively out of reach in my mind this last almost-a-year.
I have felt grounded and content at home and enjoyed my sweet Virginia more than I have in a good long while.
Made new friends and loves and discovered new corners of home that were before unknown.

All of which I am so grateful for.

So I’ll come back.
(I always come back.)

But I am a woman with a two sided nature—I love to be here and I love to also be there.
Here and away—both are home.
I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to have both in quite this way, or if this will be the end of my wanting it even— but I need to go out and see if The Road, this ever persistent promise, is what I remember it to be.

—————●—————

I am opening my books for @agirlnamedleneyphotography for the next little while, so if you’re somewhere out there and have a photography or documentation proposition for me
(or some of your grandparents clothes/quilts you want me to buy for @folkling)
— shoot me a message.

xo
—————●—————

The Consistency of Place

May 19, 2020 in Thoughts

“The land doesn’t speak to you because you don’t stay in one place long enough to hear it”

It seems a lot of what I’ve written about recently stems from conversations with various friends from all across this country.

I don’t know that I’m talking to people more than I normally would, but perhaps life has slowed down enough to really be able to meditate on the things being said to the extent they deserve.

This is a paraphrased quote by a friend who mentioned this line from the book: The Practice of The Wild and it’s from a conversation with a Crow elder.

It struck a chord with me for several reasons.

While I have the constant pull of The Road on my mind and that’s a huge part of me, I’m also a life long Virginian. A born and raised Richmonder, and someone who grew up routinely going to the Chesapeake Bay and its surrounding tiny towns because I’m the #daughterofasailor.
I have immense pride in being from one consistent place and having the roots that I do.

I lived in #RVA for 25 years before I chose to make the bay my home in between my road dog life, and while it’s always been a part of me and felt like home, taking up residence here has made that more tangible.

When I came home in November from living a year on The Road, I really meant to be back just for a few months to catch up with loved ones, work on some writing projects and then get back out there.

And then the world fell apart.

Yet, in the midst of that I’ve had more ability to enjoy this place. Discover unexplored corners, notice things I’ve always driven past too fast, really get to know my neighbors and those who work in my community and appreciate the consistency of place.

I have been debating what to do in the coming months.
Whether to leave or stay.
What leaving would look like now that photo jobs have been cancelled and I’m unsure if @folkling could be consistent enough while being mobile to make ends meet and still trying to save for a place of my own.

And I’m still debating.

But I’ve been relearning the importance of home. That even in these times, or maybe especially so, pausing long enough to listen to the land and appreciate where you presently are is a narrative worth hearing.

The 900 Kilometers Scarf

February 28, 2020 in Knitting, Travel

I used to have a full time knitwear design job.
I would design and release knitwear collections seasonally and knit all of the pieces myself, by hand, one stitch at a time.

(You can see some past collections here, here and here if you like)

I gave it up a few years ago in pursuit of other ventures, but lately I’ve been missing creating things with my hands so I’ve been knitting a few pieces again here and there.

I had the pleasure of knitting this commissioned one-of-a-kind piece while I was in Ireland. Inspired by the rolling green landscapes and the 900 or so kilometers driven over the course of a week.

Knitting is a thing I’ve done for almost twenty years of my life and you just can’t shake that kind of engrained motion.

Perhaps more knitwear work will be in my future down one of these roads somewhere...

See more posts on Ireland HERE.

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Folkling Shop Update | Books From Ireland

February 25, 2020 in Travel, Folkling

A tiny collection of special tomes from my adventure to Ireland are now listed in the shop ✨

As a writer and photojournalist, literature is one of my favorite things to hunt for in shops on back country roads and down funky city side streets.

For years, no matter how little money I had, or where I was in the world, books were always the exception to any budget or any packing restriction. I have been known to carry armfuls of books onto various forms of transportation all over this world because they wouldn’t fit in my suitcase... I have long held the belief that there is an appetite in each of us that nothing like a good book can fill.

You can shop these special books from Ireland here.

Shop Here

The Road

December 11, 2019 in Travel, Thoughts

I think this film photo from Washington a few months ago is just about the most accurate and perfect portrait representation of my year.

The Road.

One of the foremost loves of my life.

I have been home for two weeks now.

333 days before that were spent largely in my car all across this country.

But now I am back in Virginia, I won’t say for how long, mostly because I don’t know. And though it makes others uncomfortable I’m usually okay with not knowing. It puts me in a place of trust in something (someone) other than myself and I know that’s the best place to be.

I am happy.

To be amongst my people and the other strips of pavement that don’t represent the proverbial “Road” to me, but are open and inviting nonetheless. Familiar in their curves and bumps, they illicit a different type of pleasure. One of anchored contentment, knowing and recognition.

Of home.

Consistency too.

Which has always been one of the two dualities in my makeup.

My love for nesting, being in a space of my own and near my people who I’ve spent a decade or two or (nearly) three doing life with.

But also my addiction to newness—it is the thing in me that tugs at my center when I’ve been stationary and stagnant too long.

Which I recognize not only as a physical state but a mental one as well.

Most people think this is a thing I will outgrow.

A characteristic of indecision and lack of maturity. Of youthful “wanderlust” and do-it-now-while-you-can.

I used to believe them.

Used to be ashamed of my insatiable appetite and voracious curiosity. “You’re just restless” people would say.

“Oh, you’re finding yourself…”

But actually, I’ve known for quite some time who I am.

I have for most of my life.

As a child I remember being quite sure of things. Sure of myself. Sure of what I wanted to do. It is only with age that I somehow reverted and lost this confidence.

Perhaps because there is more at risk. But I don’t even know if I really believe that.

I think we get tricked into thinking there’s more to lose, but really, it’s the same always. We are just more trusting when we are new and resilient to the voices trying to tell us otherwise.

I’m fortunate to have a few people in my life who encouraged and watered the garden of my abnormalities but there is only so much you can do in the way of becoming grounded in yourself with others trying to do all of the work for you. At some point you need to take root in the knowing yourself and do some pruning of your own.

I encountered a great many people this year who thought what I was doing, traveling alone as a woman, quite insane and unsafe.

But I also encountered those who encouraged it.

But neither should matter. Whichever way the scale tips in its outward affirmation of who we are: we know.

We know because if you pause long enough to listen, you will hear that rhythm inside of you that was created and placed in exactly you and made to push you towards your place of purpose.

Rhythm and Routine

August 29, 2019 in Travel, Thoughts

It’s been a stationary week and a half.
I’ve been spending some time in a little coastal town in Oregon working on some projects.
Something I’ve really relished after the rush and spiritual high of driving up the Pacific Coast Highway earlier this month.

Driving up Highway 1 was a venture I embarked on for the first time last year when my brother and I drove across the country and back over the course of a couple months. It was a highlight of that year in a way that I have been unable to put into words in person, or virtually, since.
So of course being back on this side of the country I knew I needed to do it again this year.
My left shoulder is a bit darker than my right from the sun ushering me up the highway, but my heart is lighter for having done it.

Anywhere on the water is a place I call home.

Finding balance in stillness amidst the motion I am so drawn to, has been a reoccurring theme in this season.
The ever constant duality in my life of holding both contentment and far reaching dreams.

I am unsure if it is the heightened self awareness I have at this point in my life, or the constant information overload that plagues my generation especially, that keeps the search for this balance at the forefront of my mind more often than not.

But I am finding that, wherever I am, it is in the tiny in-between things that I choose to make time for and often the things that have little to do with work or “making a living”, that bring that balance.
And to be sure it is a choice… It’s rare that the things that sustain us in life are easily earned or just so happen to fall into our laps.

We have to choose the important things.

We all know this. We do. But we so easily let them slide by and time unrolls behind us and all-of-a-sudden we look back and think… Did I even enjoy that? When I was there, in that place, did I appreciate it for what it was?

I am trying to do that more. Enjoy the now. Especially on this journey of being on The Road this year. To not look ahead to the next place quite so much and just be present in the morning I have here.

Such has been the gradual accumulation of tiny motions of thought towards the goodness of searching for symmetry.

Folkling Vintage | The California Coast

August 27, 2019 in Folkling, Travel

I have been in California for part of August, and while there I picked up a few vintage finds for folkling.

Shooting these pieces while driving up the Pacific Coast Highway was such a fun artistic endeavor for me.

It is combining many of my loves, photography, vintage, travel, all into one.

I appreciate all of you who’ve supported Folkling over the last two years of its existence. It’s a venture that I get so much enjoyment out of and not only something I preach, but practice.
I truly believe in the sustainability and ethical consciousness in buying secondhand first and appreciating that which already exists in the world.
Additionally, you are fueling my life on The Road in more ways than one, and that’s a dream for which I cannot thank you enough.

If you are interested in any of these pieces, shoot me a direct message through the Folkling instagram.
Thank you to everyone who sees value in shopping slow.
xo

Life On The Road

July 12, 2019 in Travel

It’s been a little over six months since I hit the road in my Subaru, Blue Moon, and headed West.
I thought I would make more time for posts here on the journal, have a proper road log if you will, but clearly the last post having a time stamp of ‘March’ proves otherwise. I’m even silent on Instagram most days.

While I do make time to write at least a little almost every day, I am too engaged with the real world it seems to enter into the virtual one to share with you all as much as I would like.
The validation of life lived outside of screens and not shared with others, aside from whoever you’re presently with, is a thing I admit I wrestle with on occasion. Especially in my profession as a photographer. For what are images to be made for if not to share and tell stories with?

I have a pretty solid line when it comes to my personal life in this way, but I am finding the line moving closer and closer the longer I choose to travel and live in the way that I do. Whether that’s a specific feeling that comes with age or with a learned focus in the value of intimacy— I am still in the process of understanding. Perhaps it is a little of both.

It’s been a very busy year though, and I have been working on a myriad of projects that I hope to share more about soon. Most of what I’ve been working on is still in the process and creation and becoming stages, which is a space I’m not sure I’ve ever spent quite this much time in before.
My turnaround time for projects and ideas is usually a bit quicker, or there’s at least some measure of sharing about the journey of it all along the way, but I am finding that the richer and more rewarding projects deserve more space and time to become what they deserve to be. I am learning to sit with things longer than I am used to being comfortable with and not rushing creation for the sake of producing and proving productivity.

Somewhere on the road in California during The Wild + Wonderful American Road Trip. Shot on 35mm film — *Somewhere on the road in California during* *The Wild + Wonderful American Road Trip. Shot on 35mm film*

Your Home Is The Road

January 05, 2019 in Travel

Putting this next season of my life into words feels nearly impossible.

I have been dreaming of this exact moment for so long, and to have it here, happening, and in process is the most incredulous thing to me. It truly leaves me in awe and in somewhat of a state of disbelief.

Such is the feeling, perhaps, of realized dreams.

I have been on the road for 7 days. Which is the average length of most of my travels.
The longest I’ve ever been away from Virginia, my home state, was during The Wild + Wonderful American Road Trip this past Summer, which was an adventure lasting 59 days through 30 states.

I have travelled extensively throughout my lifetime, visiting 44 of the 50 states in America and 9 other countries besides. I am so fortunate in that, I realize. But it is my life’s passion. I give up and do without a lot of things so that I can go as much as I do.
(You can read a little bit more about that here in this post if you like)

I have been wanting to do something like this for a number of years.

*Walden Pond shot in Kodak Gold 35mm film Winter 2017*

On The Move

January 04, 2019 in Travel, Slow Living

It has been a little over a year now since I left and moved away from Richmond.
Granted, only to the bay, which is a second home and place of familiarity in and of itself, but it’s the first time I have ever lived anywhere other than in the city I have called home for my entire life.

This is not something I have ever explicitly shared on the internet, and something that many people still don’t really know about me, though here and there over the course of the year it has been implied and referenced in varying ways or conveyed in person to various individuals.

But to spell it out, a year ago I packed up my apartment in The Fan and (after many many trips because I stubbornly refused to rent some sort of Uhaul which made the whole process way harder than it needed to be…) moved to the bay.

The move was made for a number of reasons, and I wasn’t really sure how long I’d be there, but it was mostly an initial attempt at listening to a voice I have had echoing in me for several years that I hadn’t fully listened to until that point.

A voice telling me I needed to go.

On The Road Again

The Consistency of Place

The 900 Kilometers Scarf

Folkling Shop Update | Books From Ireland

The Road

Rhythm and Routine

Folkling Vintage | The California Coast

Life On The Road

Your Home Is The Road

On The Move

There is a wilderness inside of me.
This space is the documentation of my humble attempt at it's navigation.
Sometimes through words.
Sometimes through images.

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