When you visit Angie Wendricks’s Instagram feed, @countyroadliving, you’ll notice a few things right away. First, it’s full of clean lines, soft whites, handmade touches, and vintage finds. Second, it’s shot almost entirely within the bounds of Angie’s under-800-square-foot house. And third, even given those two constraints—somehow, despite them—it’s not...
...I really truly believe that I wanted to create the Kinship—and this place for people who have been a little bit on the outside, or maybe not been supported the way they should have been—because of the lack of having that and feeling like I wanted to create a family of people who are not blood-related but have some thread in common with each other.”
I always ask whether they’re willing and able to take an idea and run with it. This might seem like a simple question. But it’s not. It gets at something lurking in the shadows: fear, excitement, possibility. If someone tells me they need their work carefully defined for them, I know that despite their talents, they’re not right for this team.
It’s 5:15 am and already my Slack channels are full of new messages. Clients are wondering how we’re planning to promote an event; our liaison has questions about scheduling upcoming workshops; our photographer has uploaded a batch of photos from the latest shoot; our copywriter has social media she needs...
Without a driving dream, focus, and inspiration, we were just wandering in the woods. After a while, as I determined more about who we were as an organization, I realized that we weren’t in it to provide services. We were coaches, friends, providers of tough love - partners in finding the right direction.
I fight the urge to run, to close myself indoors, where everything is well-lit and warm and peaceful. Instead, I plant my feet and open my hands. I find what scares me, and close my eyes, and invite it in.
It’s early morning, still dark with the land outside not yet in silhouette. In this moment, things look much the same as they did a year ago..