15 years in and I am grateful to still be learning something new every day.
I came across the European artist and illustrator Agata Wierzbicka years ago and bookmarked her work. Having spent years on legacy wall ideas and creation–for our family and for photography clients–I find portraiture fascinating and am always on the lookout for artists that uniquely capture and preserve people in their natural environment. The portraits that I have of my ancestors are all quite formal, and I will always appreciate their elegance. We have a legacy wall in our living room that spans from oil pastels of great grandmothers to articles of importance featuring old black and whites to current graphite sketches of our children. I love the variation of mediums and feel they all represent time in a textural way. I also love to hear what people think when they are having a portrait done of themselves. What part do they want to preserve, what moment in time do they feel represents them most? And isn't it funny to think the way we want to remember ourselves often doesn't reflect how others see us?
I have actually been in the middle of a shoot before and had someone ask, "do you ever get hired to do an obituary photo?" The question caught me quite off guard at the time, but then I thought–wow. Actually pretty smart question. When one thinks of an obituary photo, that's a tough one. How hard to capture one's entire life with one photo? And from what I have observed, people usually use their last professional head shot unless the family is lucky enough to have that "one" photo that captures the heart and soul of their loved one. Or the deceased chose that photo with intention and left it with instruction? Duly noted.
When I bookmarked Agata's work, I didn't have a photo in mind for her to illustrate at the time but I knew that I wanted her to capture a meaningful piece of motherhood for me. Then 2024 began and I started working on what will be my final Southern Mothers book and the completion of the trilogy. 15 years of experiencing motherhood and 15 years of documenting motherhood seemed like an appropriate time to honor with portraiture. I reached out to her and sent her several photos of me with the children and she chose, without hesitation, one that had the "most movement." If I have learned anything by being a photographer and working with other artists, you give them the freedom to be them and you will be happy with the results.
Met with equal lack of hesitation, I told her to go for it. It was a (phone) photo that Bill took of me with all three walking down a narrow street in Paris. We were looking for a market to buy some lunch to then walk to the Tuileries for a picnic. I am carrying a frisbee because every excursion we take entails the essentials of a deck of cards and some type of ball/frisbee to throw at any given time. William had just bought a silly beret that he felt made him look Parisian, Peter was doing his usual wandering, while Bonnie remained close to Mom. Agata said that she loved the movement of this photo and that stuck with me. It wasn’t formal, we didn’t have on our Sunday’s best…but it most definitely captured the movement of motherhood at a time I very much wanted to crystallize. Is it different than the portrait of my great Aunt Jane on our mantel, absolutely. But like most methods of life and design, there is room for movement between the old and the new.
The movement of motherhood.
It has its ups, downs, everything in between–and they rarely come in linear fashion. When you least expect it you're at a peak, then before you know it you are deep in the valley. It's fluid, it's raw, it's musical, it's heavenly. It will hit you like a crashing wave, but can simultaneously be incredibly calming. When I think of my mother, her spiritual presence is my calm. If ever I worry, I think of her and how she would handle any and everything with movements of grace and never movements of chaos. While we don't get to choose all of our circumstances, we do get to choose the movement of our reaction to those circumstances. Our movement through motherhood will be the way our children move through their lives as they grow into their own movement.
I hope you will save the date for my last Southern Mothers show celebrating The Movement of Motherhood, Then & Now: 15 years of documenting motherhood across the South, the third and final book of the trilogy, and most importantly honoring my mother's 75th birthday.
March 6, 2025 in Charleston.
Happy Mother’s Day to all, in whatever way the movement of motherhood touches you.
xoxo
Ashley
A gracious thanks to Agata for sharing her talent. About the artist here.
