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The Idiots

Wednesday evening I spent hanging out with The Idiots. Who are actually not idiots in the least, but rather a brilliant, funny, kind, delightful creative pair that had me nodding furiously in agreement with nearly every point of their 300 slide-laden manifesto. Especially the part about the cats. Our household shall remain feline-free. Thanks for the affirmation, Robbi and Matt!

I’ve been working with the duo on this project since the summer, and was thrilled to bring them to campus to talk with undergrads about the virtues of creative impatience. They really are an inspiring couple, and it doesn’t hurt that they know how to tell a great (and funny) story with pearls of wisdom dropped between slides of Robbi doing lines of cocaine off Julia Robert’s bare ass.

The essence of their talk was about the pursuit of creative careers, using their own life stories as a model. I loved their emphasis on following intuition, not knowing guaranteed outcomes or results and being open to and setting yourself up for new (and often unpredictable) experiences. Experimentation and risk were central. Telling an authentic, true story that represents who you are, whether born at the foot of a dormant volcano or owner of a three-legged dog and alleged greyhound super mutt, were critical. And given that I’ve greeted 2013 with a variety of new and unpredictable projects, I needed that reminder that that kind of cavalier, bold, impatient decision to plow ahead, follow your gut, and try to tackle something new and different was not only okay but essential to building and leading a creative life.

Because while I don’t call myself an artist, I am someone that makes. That creates. That does. And I not only want to have creativity built into the work I do, but the life I lead. When I say that I want to live a creative life, I mean that I want to live a life that exists outside the bounds of the structured, prescribed lifestyle that is often held up as the status quo of success in our society. James and I began that pursuit when we abandoned life in LA, I started this blog, we chose to have him be the primary caregiver of our children, and we moved to this little farm on the end of a dirt road in Vermont. And as The Idiots reminded us, that is not an easy path (and that path looks different for nearly everyone). It is hard work, but ultimately rewarding and freeing (particularly if you stop having money be central to driving your life choices and the work that you do). I’d say James and I jumped on that ship when we made the move back east… and we’ve never looked back.

So thank you, Robbi and Matt. I may have needed to hear your talk more than that room of undergrads. Here’s to the unquestionable merits of doggedness! Also, can I be you when I grow up?

Baby Brothers

Kimmy is killing it today. She’s responsible for this image and analogy of our baby brother:

Meanwhile, to sum up James’ baby brother, I’d share with you this, because he is neither shaggy nor cardigan-clad, but agile and air bound. And if he teaches my daughters how to do any of this madness, I am sending him the hospital bills.

Keep in mind that both of these gentlemen are over 21 years old. Baby is perhaps not the apt descriptor, but they were born in the 90s, so yeah, actually, it is.

Currently Quoting

Dropping a little Thursday wisdom courtesy of Tina Fey (via my lil sis).

If you’re beating yourself up because no matter how strict your diet is, or how much you exercise, or how “good” you are about the food you put into your body, you still aren’t a teeny tiny size 0 version of yourself, maybe it’s time to recognize that you’re not supposed to be. That’s your body telling you that you are exactly who and how you should be. Stop trying to force something that goes against who you are. Embrace the body that you were given, quirks and all. I promise, constant talk about diet and exercise is super unattractive. But women (and men!) who triumphantly and confidently rejoice in who they are and the body that they inhabit… now that is damn sexy.

CAMERA READY

Hold on to your cameras, folks! Kate and I are thrilled to announce a photography class, CAMERA READY, that’s going to take your skills to new heights.

After years of working with Kate on projects like this, she generously started teaching me my way around a camera. In one afternoon, I went from bumbling around in auto-mode to shooting comfortably and knowledgeably in manual mode. It was such a revelation and completely changed my comfort with my camera and the images I produced. I also learned what is the difference between mirrorless camera and common DSLR cameras, this was a huge step towards my career.

With my background in event planning and firsthand experience learning from Kate, and Kate’s years working as a professional photographer, we decided to combine our skill sets and create this day long class for aspiring photographers and their cameras. We introduce CAMERA READY.

CAMERA READY is like bootcamp for you and your camera. Only way more fun. It’s a full day spent learning the basics of your camera, shooting techniques, and editing tricks. Whether you’re looking to improve your family snapshots, populate your own blog with killer photos or are a small business owner looking to shoot your own images, this class will give you the confidence and skill to operate your own digital SLR camera from the comfort of your home.

By the end of the day you’ll be able to comfortably shoot in manual mode and know all about aperture, ISO and shutter speed. You’ll understand how best to shoot in low light, bright sun, and how to maximize and use available light most effectively when shooting. You’ll learn the basic rules of framing shots, how to shoot still objects, people, and how to capture a story. You’ll also learn basic editing tricks in Lightroom to really make your images shine.

You’ll head home with all this and a bag full of goodies and custom portrait images from Kate Drew Miller Photography. (Lunch and snacks included as well!)

We’re offering our inaugural classes in our home state of Massachusetts. The weekend of March 2nd is our Boston class at Kate’s gorgeous studio in Salem, and the following weekend of March 9th will be held in my neck of the woods in the Northern Berkshires. For more details about the classes visit CAMERA READY or sign up here. Our hope is to expand our offerings to other cities once we get a few classes under our collective belt. If you’d like us to come to your town, email me and let us know where we should go next!

I hope that you’ll join us on this exciting and fun journey. Contact me if you have questions or would like to be one of our vendors for goodies, decor or food at either of these classes.

We can’t wait to teach you! Now go go, sign up!

Also, I’ve had to make a return to Facebook (ugh!) thanks to all these new endeavors because it wasn’t appropriate to try to manage each project from one account. So now I’m managing THREE Facebook pages (and that’s the extent to which I plan to engage my personal account, merely as a vehicle for admining all these dang pages). If you’re into everything I’m doing, then please, like all three. If you just want FB updates on one or the other or the other of these ventures, then choose accordingly. The page for the blog is here. The page for Camera Ready is here. And the page for The Beauty of Being Born is here.

Thanks for spreading the love and sharing any or all of these endeavors that you find exciting! xo Ash

Currently Playing

Some food for thought on this lazy sick day in bed courtesy of Sunny’s FGM. I love the way he addresses the need for better female AND male role-modeling. Amen, sir!

Day 2

Another day in bed with the sniffles, and by sniffles I mean, hacking wads of mucus filled scum.

At least I have this cheery face to pop in with the giggles every once and a while.

I have another big announcement slash project reveal tomorrow. If nothing else, I’ve been able to get that ready for launch thanks to this time on my ass. Now if only my cough could be this productive.

For ye folks looking to improve your photography skills, prepare thy cameras and check back in tomorrow.

Sick Day

It’s fortunate that you are reading rather than hearing this post. For if I were to be speaking these words aloud, a raspy, weak, mucus-laden squeak would be the vehicle of delivery. Kimmy called me today, and when I answered the phone with a barely audible rasp, she burst out laughing.

WOW! You really are really sick.

Why, yes, yes I am. I’m just grateful that the worst part of this didn’t hit until I was already in the comfort of my own home, and not mid-flight with an angry toddler.

You see, Friday night I spent with a large group of Miami-dwelling Ephs. As is my nature, I talked, frequently and with much gusto. Here I am in the middle of entertaining James and assorted Williams company, with Mojito numero uno in hand.

When I awoke on Saturday morning with the beginnings of Phone Sex Operator Voice and a slamming headache, I chalked it up to three-too-many mojitos and the late night salsa dancing.

I spent the afternoon napping, and then attended another (highly social) dinner. By evening’s close, my larynx had reached its breaking point. But again, I assumed the sore throat and overwhelming exhaustion was a result of all the meetings and events and my inability to shut my damn mouth.

I felt shitty on the plane, but fortunately, Addison, in typical Addison fashion, curled up in her seat and passed out almost immediately, so James and I were able to jointly share Courtland-wrangling responsibilities. The flight looked a little something like this:

Relatively speaking, we made it home smoothly and quickly.

We pulled into the driveway and James and I leapt out to greet our ebullient, wriggly pups. When I turned to then pull Sunny out of her car seat, I was met with the emotional display of an adolescent female. Sunny sat, weeping dramatically into her hands, blubbering, “I don’t like when vacation is over. I am so sad that we’re in Vermont. I miss Florida. This is haaaaaaard.”

Aaaaand, hello Ashley at thirteen weeping about the onslaught of time! Little did you know you’d one day birth karma.

It took us close to fifteen minutes to ease Sunny’s distress. She was consumed with that empty, lonely feeling one often has coming down from a joyous, fun experience. While ridiculous in some respects, it was simultaneously the most mature display of emotions I’ve ever seen from my daughter.

Queue Ashly at nearly-thirty weeping about the onslaught of time.

We then discovered a rotting mouse in our kitchen cabinet’s mouse trap and a rotting mole in our basement’s. When James headed to the grocery store, the Volvo died in the parking lot and then Courtland spent most of the night screaming (her way of displaying her dismay at vacation’s end and thus no longer sharing a bedroom with her sister). By the time I awoke this morning, I could barely eek out a whisper of discomfort to convey the state of my entire body.

So in bed I stay. Hoping that a day in bed will make the bad man go away. Oh please MAKE THE BAD MAN GO AWAY! Welcome home to me!

Currently Reading

I was able to read this article on the plane flight home. A brief 10 minute respite while Courtland ate a bag of M&Ms. HEY! No judging! I promise that if you were seated anywhere near us on the flight, you’d be grateful for that chocolatey bag of treats and that 600 seconds. Just as I’m grateful that my boss handed me this article to read moments before we tore into the sweets:

To my same-sexing pals, let me say this: I know that my inability to use a set of words without irony is nothing compared to the long history of our society not allowing you to be those things. And I know that my tiny linguistic win is negligible compared with the victory you have gained in marriage equality. I apologize in advance for the accusations we all know will keep flying from the mouths of some: charges that you have somehow unsanctified the marriage institution.

But please know that for this churchgoing heterosexual, with her kids, dog, car pools, and yellow house with picket fence, you resanctified it. Please know that you revived it. Please know that when I hear you pronounce the words “wife” and “husband” so reverently, so lovingly, I remember that I can, too.

Go read the full text here.

3/52

“A portrait of my children, once a week, every week, in 2013.”

Sunny: So eager to immerse herself in the still depths of the pool the moment she awakes, disturbing its waters, bringing them to life as we all swim our way to consciousness. As she explained earlier this week, “I will miss Florida when we have to go home to Vermont. I’m always sad when vacations are over.” Insight and truth well beyond her years.
Kaki: A tangled mess of waves surround that crispy, gazing pair of eyes as she leisurely takes in her surroundings. A lingering moment of calm before she unleashes her fierce and wild personality upon the new day, as though she is readying the world for her grand entrance with each dawn.

More details about The 52 Project here. To view all the portraits in the series with explanations as to why I’ll be capturing the portraits in the early morning, visit here.

Florida, pt 1

If I could make love to this camera, I totally would.

Oh, hey, HI! HELLO FROM FLORIDA! A place that inspires me to declare physical passion for inanimate objects.

Let me begin by telling you that yes, obviously, we survived the plane flight. Courtland could have been far worse. She wasn’t great, but we’re choosing to look on the bright side which is that no passengers threatened to duct tape her mouth shut, with the exception of her parents.

While landing, Sunny gazed out the window and James asked her what she saw and she loudly proclaimed, “POOLS! I SEE LOTS OF POOLS!” She had the whole plane laughing with the truth of that observation. Welcome to Florida, y’all! Home of the swimming pool! She then began chanting, “We’re going down. We’re going down. We’re going down down down DOWN!” which shifted the mood a bit. I suppose “We’re descending, we’re descending, we’re de- de- de- scending!” doesn’t have quite the same ring, but we need to somehow explain to the preschooler that such a chant suggests that the airplane is about to crash and burn. Not something one ought to sing at an elevated volume if they want to keep spirits lifted.

Today I left the Florida Keys, where we’ve been staying with James’ parents, and headed to Miami for work. I’ll spend the next five days in meetings with some inspiring people, at lunches, dinners and various events, and, perhaps most importantly, lounging on the sands of South Beach. Tough job, eh? James will remain with the girls and his parents, and they’ll continue to play and frolic in the pool. At the beach. On the boat. IN THE SUN! YAY SUN!

I couldn’t resist doing a photo dump from our new camera. While I only have a work laptop on hand, and thus no Lightroom slash Photoshop, I surely do not need either. I mean, just look at these images! I. DIE. (Prepare thy hearts, as there are over 50 photos below because a. I’m trying to beat our 9,200 pictures a year record, clearly. And b. I’m a terrible self-editor. But I cut out at least three hundred pictures to showcase this lot. So, that’s something, right? RIGHT?!)

The next two images have got to be turned into an animated GIF as soon as Photoshop is at my finger tips. Ah, sisterly love!

Hey, LOBSTER TAT!

Addison delights in wearing her “babing suits” and “zucchinis” in the pool. She especially likes when objects are “sinkaling” to the bottom. And I will never correct any of these language missteps. Never ever ever. I mean, would you? I thought not.

The fact that the swimming pool is the heart of the living room is a dream-come-true for both kids. A tad nerve-wracking with a stumbling 1.5 year old, but primarily a joy for us parents, too. Sunny spends hours jumping in one end, swimming the length, and then racing around to do it all over again, insisting that we count to three to initiate each new jump. All the while, my in-laws’ two black labs pace and stand at the ready in the off chance that Sunny’s life jacket fail her. We have had so much fun as a family of four around that little pool. And it’s a pretty magical and humbling thing to be able to experience that kind of joy with the people I love most in this world.

Every evening, we climb aboard The Yellow Schoolbus (an over-sized yellow golf cart) and head to the local ice cream shop for sweets. Sunny is going to be devastated to return home to Vermont and find that this nightly ritual is no longer a part of the bedtime routine.

Also? James and Courtland smooching in that picture above? Killing me dead.

Sometimes it’s even a midday ritual. Because, in 80 degree whether, an ice cream cone is a required accessory.

The golf cart has provided much entertainment. For both matchy matchy photo shoots and practical transportation. There wasn’t a little old lady in sight who didn’t fall all over themselves when confronted with the nautical stripping of these two. I have never received so many swoons and compliments about the girls. Thanks, Momar! The outfits were a big success!

One of my favorite things about visiting this part of Florida is the requisite trip to a local Everglades Alligator Farm, complete with baby alligators, (which Sunny and Kaki did NOT want to touch, despite Ranger’s urgings), noisy air boat rides (Sunny hovered in the fetal position on James’ lap the entire ride and then declared with pride that she had SO MUCH FUN when it was over. Kids are weird, eh?), and adult alligator feedings with frozen rats (yum!).

The best part of the trip to the Alligator Farm is always a stop at ROBERT IS HERE, an outstanding local fruit stand with crazy fruit smoothies and milkshakes, and exotic fruits of all shapes and sizes.

We ventured into the club one afternoon for lunch where mama enjoyed an extensive Bloody Mary bar and Courtland squealed and pointed in delight every time a boat road by our table (i.e. every 10 seconds. Our neighboring diners loved us). We played at the beach and the public pool to mix up our aquatic activities.

A beautiful trip indeed. Onward to part 2!