©2018 ASHLEY SELLNER. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Hosted by Heather

in
Let me dear friend, Heather Moss, create a beautiful charcuterie platter for next event or intimate gathering.  They are filled with surprising local treats.  She'll even help you plan your next party.

Let me dear friend, Heather Moss, create a beautiful charcuterie platter for next event or intimate gathering.  They are filled with surprising local treats.  She'll even help you plan your next party.

Ruth

in
IMG_0888.jpg

“The problem with the world is that we draw the circle of our family too small.” Mother Teresa

 

The first time I met Ruth Samuelson it was in her home. We were new to Charlotte, visiting churches and ended up after the service at a church-wide pot luck hosted in the Samuelson’s rambling ranch.  The September day was bright and warm and after making connections with folks in line, we spilled out onto the front lawn to eat.  I don’t remember what was on our plate, who we sat with, or much of the conversation from that day; but my heart was firmly imprinted by the hospitality of the host and her family. 

 

We eventually joined the church and for two years while we worshipped on Sunday, I watched the Samuelson family grow.  Their "self-appointed" pew smack dab in the middle of the sanctuary expanded from their family of five (2 teenaged biological sons and an adopted daughter from Chile) to 6 and 7 as foster children and a newly adopted son came into their lives.  Stories about their basement apartment, which hosted families from the nearby seminary and families in need of short term housing, starting filtering through the congregation.  There seemed to be no end to their generous spirit of hospitality.  It trickled into every facet of their lives.

 

After two years, we moved on from Uptown Church to plant a new church in a new part of Charlotte, but we stayed closely “related” to the Samuelson clan.  My two were born in rapid succession and soon, Joy the Samuelson's daughter, now a mother herself, came to spend time in our home bringing along her son, Evan.  With challenges to face in this season of her life, Joy became intricately linked to our family.  She was not just a babysitter to Jack and Mae, she was a surrogate parent.  They were loved honestly and disciplined consistently. The circle of our family began to grow.

 

We longed for more children of our own, more little bodies around our big kitchen table, but God had different plans for us.  In 2011, we began to host post-college graduates in our guest room through the Charlotte Fellows program. Each of these young adults, participated fully in the mess and the joy of our lives.  Each year, I saw our pew grow with men and women who worshipped alongside my two children.  They became family.  And I would not have been nudged into this space of unlimited hospitality if it were not for the quiet testimony of the Samuelson family – a family that knew few boundaries and did not define itself by bloodlines. 

 

Almost three weeks ago, I had the rare privilege to spend the afternoon with Ruth and her family in their home one last time.  In a day of reprieve from the ravages of the cancer which would take her life 10 short days later, I was invited in to record some of her last moments of lucidity.  All of her children sat around her, grandchildren crawling willy-nilly on her lap.  And they shared silly memories and laughed and held hands and smiled.  I didn’t feel like a passive observer hiding behind a camera.  Their circle widened, inviting me in, an honorary Samuelson for an afternoon.  

"Our tree grows, its branches jutting out at odd angles.  If given a thousand tries, I couldn't have come up with something as perfect as us." Falling Free, Shannan Martin

Mary Jo Major

in , , ,
IMG_17a.jpg

I was blessed to spend the morning with a sweet friend.  We both share a love of art and creating, but also have the rare opportunity to explore passions that intersect with this love.  Mary Jo Major combines her love of art with creating a home. As I snapped editorial images and updated headshots for a planned website overhaul, she explained how her business is growing and changing to best use her gifts in interior design coupled with her art business.

When we first moved to Charlotte 16 years ago, I would have called on someone like Mary Jo in a skinny minute.  Our first home was a collection of hand me downs, cast-offs, and flea market finds (eBay was barely getting started and Craigslist was not even on the horizon.) I could have used her uncanny ability to see perfection in a wobbly side table or her enthusiasm and assuredness when picking a paint color, one that would marry all of the disparate pieces together into a happy whole.  Instead, my first home was more of a reflection of both our families.

 Mary Jo brings life into a home.  Her design decisions are youthful, vibrant, and fun just like her charismatic personality. She brings spunk into a room and makes you confident taking a few risks. Likewise, her art exudes this same sense of vibrancy - bold saturated color and confident gestures.  Her collage work is my favorite (and my bartered payment for these fun images.)  

Check out her website now ( maryjomajor.com ) , but keep checking in...there are fun changes just ahead!

IMG_47a.jpg

 

 

A Change of Scenery

I love my studio.  It's behind closed doors.  Materials can linger on the counter, outside their drawers. Paint can splatter on the tile floor.  It's quiet, secluded and unfortunately, dark. 

I live in a mid-century modern ranch built during the height of the Cold War.  Rumor has it, my studio space was built as a bomb shelter - in the basement, snug against the foundation. While the rest of my house is flooded with light, floor to ceiling windows in every living space, a virtual fish bowl; the one space I set aside for work is poorly lit.

So this week, I dragged my easel into the family room and set up shop. 

Bernadette

in ,
“Bernadette, are you done? You can’t honestly believe any of this nonsense. People like you must create. If you don’t create, Bernadette, you will become a menace to society.”
— Paul, "Where’d You Go, Bernadette?"
"Where'd You Go, Bernadette"by Maria Semple

"Where'd You Go, Bernadette"
by Maria Semple

I loved this book, everything about it. The quirkiness of the characters. The laugh out loud dialogue. And the underlying truth – I would be a menace to society (or at least my household) if I couldn’t create. I would be Bernadette, except I might choose a warmer locale to escape to.

I don’t expect much from a day -- a hot cup of coffee in the morning, a run, and a glass of wine at night -- but I would sacrifice all of my creature comforts for the time and space to draw, paint and create. I am so grateful for this season of life!

Failure

in
Watercolor capitalizes on mistakes.

Watercolor capitalizes on mistakes.

“Failure [noun]: A critical action in the process of growth and the acquisition of experience. Synonymous: Create personal growth. To learn. To experiment.”
— from Roadtrip Nation

I have a hard time with the “f” word.  Talking with a friend this weekend, I realized how many decisions I made in the past that minimized risk.  I settled on an art history degree instead of pushing myself in the studio. Certainly, not a poor choice in the grand scheme of things, but a safe choice, nonetheless.

I think that single decision has defined me for years. So here I am, a year into this experiment in my own home studio, no longer uttering “I can’t”, but whispering “I’m willing to try.” And failure will come with the process.  Somehow, my forty year old self accepts that fact better than the scared kid I left in college twenty years ago.

“Consider this: Failure is nothing more than a result. It may not be what you hoped for, but it is an unchangeable fact. You can’t fight or hide from facts. Experiencing failure is like downloading information. It’s a new fact to process. You now know something that you didn’t before. Results — favorable and unfavorable — lead to new actions, more informed actions, more calculated risks…”
— Roadtrip Nation

Compelled to Create

in
Upcycled cardboard decor by my ever-creative daughter, Mae.

Upcycled cardboard decor by my ever-creative daughter, Mae.

This image speaks volumes about my fourth grade daughter.  She is crafty to a fault -- funny, I didn’t recognize my own compulsion to create until I witnessed it in her. On any given Saturday, I find her rummaging around in the recycling bin or pulling up crafty videos on YouTube. Hours pass before she emerges from the craft room, sculpture, painting, or organizational tool in hand.

Her three dimensional “M” is an upcycled Minted box from last Christmas (I can’t believe I held onto it and I have no idea where she found it!)