I found this slate grey mohair sweater in Northern Ireland and photographed it on the Cliffs of Moher.
A find so beautiful and meant not for a special occasion, but to make an everyday kind of day special.
It’s ethereally dreamy, soft to the touch and has a timeless style that defies trends and will keep you warm for years to come.
You can shop this sweater here.
A tiny collection of special tomes from my adventure to Ireland are now listed in the shop ✨
As a writer and photojournalist, literature is one of my favorite things to hunt for in shops on back country roads and down funky city side streets.
For years, no matter how little money I had, or where I was in the world, books were always the exception to any budget or any packing restriction. I have been known to carry armfuls of books onto various forms of transportation all over this world because they wouldn’t fit in my suitcase... I have long held the belief that there is an appetite in each of us that nothing like a good book can fill.
You can shop these special books from Ireland here.
I am home from Ireland and I brought this sweet little collection of vintage vessels home with me just for you guys!
Packed away all tight and snug in my carry on bag…. they’ve definitely come a long way to be here.
I believe the tiniest touches can make all the difference in making your space feel special and uniquely yours.
You can shop these pieces in my online shop here.
You all know that I am always juggling a myriad of passions, and while I’ve been at home in Virginia for the holidays and some down time to work on some writing and photo projects, I have been curating more vintage and sharing my finds from The Road this past year (and for that matter, previous years as well as I go through all of the things I had in storage while I was gone…)
Head to the shop to see what’s new and find something special for your space or your body or maybe the space or body of someone you love.
Many of these were found on a Virginia back country road on the best kind of meandering day.
Here’s to having more of those and to remembering the true and good things that make up the places we call home.
The Road in Washington — 35mm Film
I think this film photo from Washington a few months ago is just about the most accurate and perfect portrait representation of my year.
The Road.
One of the foremost loves of my life.
I have been home for two weeks now.
333 days before that were spent largely in my car all across this country.
But now I am back in Virginia, I won’t say for how long, mostly because I don’t know. And though it makes others uncomfortable I’m usually okay with not knowing. It puts me in a place of trust in something (someone) other than myself and I know that’s the best place to be.
I am happy.
To be amongst my people and the other strips of pavement that don’t represent the proverbial “Road” to me, but are open and inviting nonetheless. Familiar in their curves and bumps, they illicit a different type of pleasure. One of anchored contentment, knowing and recognition.
Of home.
Consistency too.
Which has always been one of the two dualities in my makeup.
My love for nesting, being in a space of my own and near my people who I’ve spent a decade or two or (nearly) three doing life with.
But also my addiction to newness—it is the thing in me that tugs at my center when I’ve been stationary and stagnant too long.
Which I recognize not only as a physical state but a mental one as well.
Most people think this is a thing I will outgrow.
A characteristic of indecision and lack of maturity. Of youthful “wanderlust” and do-it-now-while-you-can.
I used to believe them.
Used to be ashamed of my insatiable appetite and voracious curiosity. “You’re just restless” people would say.
“Oh, you’re finding yourself…”
But actually, I’ve known for quite some time who I am.
I have for most of my life.
As a child I remember being quite sure of things. Sure of myself. Sure of what I wanted to do. It is only with age that I somehow reverted and lost this confidence.
Perhaps because there is more at risk. But I don’t even know if I really believe that.
I think we get tricked into thinking there’s more to lose, but really, it’s the same always. We are just more trusting when we are new and resilient to the voices trying to tell us otherwise.
I’m fortunate to have a few people in my life who encouraged and watered the garden of my abnormalities but there is only so much you can do in the way of becoming grounded in yourself with others trying to do all of the work for you. At some point you need to take root in the knowing yourself and do some pruning of your own.
I encountered a great many people this year who thought what I was doing, traveling alone as a woman, quite insane and unsafe.
But I also encountered those who encouraged it.
But neither should matter. Whichever way the scale tips in its outward affirmation of who we are: we know.
We know because if you pause long enough to listen, you will hear that rhythm inside of you that was created and placed in exactly you and made to push you towards your place of purpose.
Read More
I am super excited to announce that my little vintage venture is expanding from Instagram to a full fledged online shop right here on the website!
Mark your calendars for
and keep your eyes peeled on the Folkling instagram for sneak peeks!
There will be some sheepskins, denim, cool mens jackets, special books, pieces from the 1970s (of course), homewares for your space and all kinds of other unique finds from my life on The Road this year!
Check back here on www.agirlnamedleney.com this weekend to get a head start on your Christmas shopping and maybe treat yourself to something special too.
xo
Want to know one of the things I’ve been up to since I’ve been in Portland?
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I’ve been working with Anna of @experimentalvintage and photographing this months curated vintage rug collection!
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Can we talk about a dream job?
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Hanging out in the beautiful space of @homebodyportland, taking photos of pretty old things, surrounded by plants and inspiring bad-ass women who run their own businesses?
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Yea. I’m in my element.
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It’s such an honor to work for and with people I admire so wholeheartedly.
Siobhan is someone who you might recognize my having talked about before here on the journal. I visited her in England last fall and took these portraits but she and I have been virtual friends for nearly eight years through our blogs and social media. She is quite definitely my favorite virtual-turned-real-life-friend and though my practice of doing that throughout my life baffles some people (you mean you’re going to somewhere you’ve never been to meet someone in person that you met online… that you don’t even know…) I have to say that it is that very openness that has invited what I would deem some of the dearest friends I have in this world.
She has taught me many things in the way of bringing artistry and beauty to all that you do (we share love and vocations with photography and knitting for one thing, though she has many other talents besides).
But one of the primary ways I’ve witnessed this is through her relationship with her daughter, Rory.
Being a mother is a thing that in most societies, defines a woman once she becomes it. All-at-once she loses her identity as anything other than Mother.
Motherhood is an incredible roll to have and embody. One I hope to have myself one day. Indeed, it is through my own spectacular Mother raising me in just the way she did that I have the view and independence I do in the world. If it weren’t for the way she helped shape my view of myself and others and the world around me, I wouldn’t view it as the miraculous and beautiful place that I do.
This is somewhat of a belated follow up post to my post last month on Rhythm and Routine.
I mentioned that my life long struggle has been to find the balance between contentment and dreaming.
How to hold both.
How to be present and enjoy what you have and where you currently are, while still striving to better yourself and achieve more.
This topic of thought has been even further at the forefront of my mind after reading this passage in A Journal of A Solitude by May Sarton :
On The Coast of California
It’s been a stationary week and a half.
I’ve been spending some time in a little coastal town in Oregon working on some projects.
Something I’ve really relished after the rush and spiritual high of driving up the Pacific Coast Highway earlier this month.
Driving up Highway 1 was a venture I embarked on for the first time last year when my brother and I drove across the country and back over the course of a couple months. It was a highlight of that year in a way that I have been unable to put into words in person, or virtually, since.
So of course being back on this side of the country I knew I needed to do it again this year.
My left shoulder is a bit darker than my right from the sun ushering me up the highway, but my heart is lighter for having done it.
Anywhere on the water is a place I call home.
Finding balance in stillness amidst the motion I am so drawn to, has been a reoccurring theme in this season.
The ever constant duality in my life of holding both contentment and far reaching dreams.
I am unsure if it is the heightened self awareness I have at this point in my life, or the constant information overload that plagues my generation especially, that keeps the search for this balance at the forefront of my mind more often than not.
But I am finding that, wherever I am, it is in the tiny in-between things that I choose to make time for and often the things that have little to do with work or “making a living”, that bring that balance.
And to be sure it is a choice… It’s rare that the things that sustain us in life are easily earned or just so happen to fall into our laps.
We have to choose the important things.
We all know this. We do. But we so easily let them slide by and time unrolls behind us and all-of-a-sudden we look back and think… Did I even enjoy that? When I was there, in that place, did I appreciate it for what it was?
I am trying to do that more. Enjoy the now. Especially on this journey of being on The Road this year. To not look ahead to the next place quite so much and just be present in the morning I have here.
Such has been the gradual accumulation of tiny motions of thought towards the goodness of searching for symmetry.
