ashliewhite

Author: admin

  • Writing for Blanko

    When I married Joe, I knew I was marrying a man who had already found his first love. That we can share an experience in the creative process that consumes so much space in his world is one of the most enjoyable aspects of our relationship. (Note: this is the least naïve statement in this entire post.)

    I was not gifted with a musical talent, but my love for music has been a central part of my life for a long time. I believe that creatives build their communities in ways that are both translucent and panchromatic. This isn’t a contradiction, but rather a description of the complexity I see underlining the essence of art.

    I believe artists are naturally drawn to one another. No matter my city of residence, I’ve always found a group of people who inspired me to create. Long before Joe and I dated, a community of musicians in the Triangle took me in and encouraged me to be my most creative self. Whether through photography, curating projects, or lyric-writing, I’ve always found a canvas for my inspiration.

    My attachments to this stimulus and productive energy increased my desire to be around people that challenge my own way of looking at the world. Many of the incredible humans responsible for expanding my creative mind are now my closest friends. I choose to surround myself with people who choose to contribute beauty to our world; and, on occasion, I am inspired to make my own offering. My contributions have been acute, miniature really, but the efforts continue to feed my soul.

    No purely creative endeavor has ever been more rewarding than writing lyrics with Joe. Stories and sentiments form meaning, inspired by vocal melodies and chord progressions. Our process is simple and collaborative. We started writing together five years ago on the first Blanko record, but Ocean Meets the Animal offered an entirely different opportunity. While I contributed to a spattering of lines across the album, two songs feel like part of me.

    Berry represents a deeply personal story for me; and though I know no one will ever hear what I hear when the song is played, I hope the sentiment will seep out and inform the listener’s impression. The foundation of the song, the instrumentation, existed long before the words were written. It was on a hike that Joe and I finished them together. It was the mood and form that created the canvas for the story, which was inspired by a complicated love, the inability to rely on truth, and the desperation for respite in a relationship burdened by loss.

    While the lyrics for Berry are written about a specific experience, All We Are was written from a place of reaction to a movement, and the desperate need to be better. We were sitting in a window seat on Main St. eating sandwiches. It was after the election and our hearts were heavy. We discussed the importance of the role of lifting up those who have less access to a platform and amplifying voices not as easily heard, that we both felt we should be embracing as allies. We talked about Black Lives Matter and our privilege, and how we wanted/needed to do better.

    It is with a humble and honest hope for reprieve 
    Deserving not a moment in this serenity
    You were looking for higher ground
    We lead you to the sea
    In hand with humanity
    A gesture incomplete

    Break free from our founded form deny immunity
    Keep peace in an open forum a silent form of speech
    We are looking for higher ground
    And there in thought we meet
    In hand with humanity
    A gesture incomplete

    I will continue to write. Even when it’s not very good, I can’t help but put words on a page; most will never make it out of my journals. More than anything, I hope to continue writing with Joe. It is one of my favorite exercises in creative expression.

  • Stumble, recover

    There are moments when I lose focus. This is less often than it used to be, as I’ve found strong purpose in almost all my present endeavors. This purpose works like a current beneath me, carrying me in a certain direction. And though I believe it is the right direction, it is not always easy to swim to the side. I’m not the best at resetting or stepping back as a form of self-preservation.

    I stumbled last week. On stage, in front of a room full of colleagues I respect and admire, I stumbled. It was not the best seven minutes of my career. No matter the situational attributes of the moment, the fact is this, I lost focus because I ignored my purpose.

    Here’s why. It was personal. In the moment, I made it about me, about what was happening to me, and not about the importance of delivering the message I was up there to deliver. I was on stage to educate the people in that room about a topic I know, a topic I talk about every single day.

    Instead of looking at my colleagues and thinking about the importance of their assessment of the information I was providing, I focused on their assessment of me. I stumbled.

    There were so many in that room who wanted me to succeed, and still, I could not catch my breath. A few of those people offered advice, teaching moments to influence the process of growth this will become. They are my champions, and are responsible for the current under me in more ways than they know.

    Big picture, this is not that big of a deal, but it has allowed me to realign directly with that strong sense of purpose that has been guiding me so successfully. My dedication to our profession and the patients we serve is real and substantial. It is not a talking point or starting line, it is everything.

  • Flower and Fruit

    For most of my adult life, I’ve sought more than superficial acquaintance. That I may truly know a friend (woman or man), with all her vulnerability, is a gift; but it is a gift I seek with intention. Grant me the pleasure of knowing you with such depth, and I promise to protect it, to hold it dear to my heart. If you so desire, I will return the favor.

    I am purposeful in my approach to relationships, as I need not bother another with the noise of my existence, and I care not indulge in less than all of someone. For some, this is exhausting; I am exhausting.

    I recognize my tendency to collect those around me. I make space for love, in any moment. I feed on sentiment and praise, but only in the hope that I may return the favor in some near future.

    In recent months, I’ve noticed that I find myself pondering my existence, my purpose, more often. Perhaps it is because I am not at capacity and need the wonderings and philosophizing to fill the void.

    I am writing this post both as a reflection on recent experiences, and as a hope that I might further explore my own understanding of the appropriateness of my desire for the “flower and fruit.”

    At the same time, I have noticed an unsettling trend in the judgement of good, or good enough. While the cloak of good ideas, thought alignment, and at times, vocal outcry, may serve well enough as good deed, (one that might mask the worst of our sins), I am not interested in the false equivalencies and unfounded narratives that underline much of our moral expectations. I am still shocked to see the level of hypocrisy that has become commonplace in our ideologies.

    I’ve noticed a pattern in our social discourse, one of prescription and forced placement. While we are all screaming about standing up and fighting for fundamental changes, changes in the root and stem of our society, I also see a lashing out at individual thought.

    We are caught in a wave of marketed truth, which feels shallow. There is often a lack of nuance and depth in our discourse. We forget that the problems are complicated, and the solutions, more so.

    This is all to say that it is becoming harder to both offer and receive the fruit.

    _______________________________________

    “I want the flower and fruit of a man; that some fragrance be wafted over from him to me, and some ripeness flavor our intercourse. His goodness must not be a partial and transitory act, but a constant superfluity, which cost him nothing and of which he is unconscious.” -HDT

  • My Dedum

    Over the past week, I’ve been reminded of the beauty and depth of my family. I have not always been the best niece, or cousin. I’ve wandered a bit, and haven’t stayed in touch the way I should. I haven’t always been around for birthdays or even births. But one thing remains the same, I feel loved in the arms of any member of my family. Though this is a sad time, my heart is big with love right now.

    My Aunt Lyndell (my Dedum), was an extraordinary woman with a love-laced superpower. I never knew a child that wouldn’t go to her or a crying baby she couldn’t soothe. She spoiled me all my life. She helped raise me, and she didn’t hesitate to remind me of that fact. She wasn’t feeling well on my wedding day, but just before I walked down the aisle, which was in her backyard in Emerald Isle, Uncle Phillip and I facetimed her together. She answered and said, “What in the world?!” We laughed and I told her I loved her and showed her my dress. Uncle Phillip and I shared a moment together, and then I was ready to go. It wasn’t planned, but she answered. She always answered.

    There’s a lot about her and my Aunt Starlette, Aunt Nancy, Momma and all the amazing women in that generation of my family, that I want to emulate. These women, who work tirelessly and give so much, are a strong lot. Just today Aunt Nancy’s in the kitchen putting the food out, making sure everyone is fed, and then afterwards, she’s in there doing the dishes. Starlette’s running around taking care of ALL the children and picking up after everyone. This is their normal mode. These women do everything so others don’t have to.

    I could stand to be a little more like them; a little more like my Dedum.

  • What a wonderful journey!

    Looking back at my last post, I recognize a natural pause, a page break. I took time away from self-presentation to focus more on self-exploration, self-improvement, and self-reflection. I went back to UNC for graduate school, joined and sold my family’s business, went corporate, married my favorite human, quit corporate, joined AOPA, traveled, loved and lived.

    I have more to be grateful for than I could possibly list. With every hand shake and every hug, I gather more love for my fellow humans. Words I use to describe the different groups of friends and family I find myself surrounded by include; my hive, my tribe, my village, my framily, my crew, the loves of my life, and my meaning. I still find the Walter Rosenblum quote to be the most accurate representation of my own perspective, “In my philosophy the meaning of one’s life derives from the people one has known and loved who have made life inexhaustible in its richness.”

    Over a year ago, I joined the American Orthotic and Prosthetic Association as the manager of projects, a position that had not previously existed. Though I was ready to leave the clinical environment, I wanted to continue serving the limb loss/difference community and the healthcare professionals dedicated to orthotic and prosthetic care. I learned so much in my role as the director of operations at Beacon P&O, and this new role at AOPA felt like the perfect opportunity to apply all my education, experience and talent.

    This new(ish) career is proving to be incredibly rewarding, full of diversity and challenge. I remain excited and enthused, day in and day out. In many ways, it feels like a dream job.

    What a wonderful journey!