RURAL RECORD: Matthew Walton

RURAL RECORD

from FOLK Slow Living 2020

Matthew Walton has set out to document the rural landscapes of the midsouth with @theruralrecord. His images tell timely stories of the past and future of America’s heartland.

I GREW UP IN POCAHONTAS, ARKANSAS, a town of about 7,000. It sits on the Black River in the Northeast region of the state. It’s an interesting location, as it shows an immediate transition from flat, farm land to the birth of the Ozark foothills. Twelve years ago, I moved to Jonesboro, AR, the most populated town in the region (just under 70,000), and work with an advertising production company. Many of the communities that surround both of these places have populations around a few hundred, if that. Needless to say, I’ve lived my life in a rural environment.

The Rural Record project started by accident, organically, or whatever you want to call it. I’ve worked with many agricultural companies throughout the years and, through that experience, I’ve visited many farms that dot the rural landscape throughout the state, especially in the delta. Early in 2019,

I started to go through hard drives of personal images and began to see a pattern. Because of the experiences I’ve had, I was naturally drawn to the personality of these smaller towns. Looking to focus my personal photography a bit more, I decided to start being more purposeful in documenting these rural communities that surround me, sharing a realistic, yet maybe romanticized, view of these places.

There are certain traits to every town that are unique, and some that share the same fabric of life. Some buildings I photograph are landmarks while others are overlooked structures that blend into the everyday lives of the people who live and work around them. All of these have a story, whether apparent or even imagined. I’m drawn to the structures and scenes that seem to sit, stuck between eras. Many of them have had their heyday, but now stand empty or with their last inhabitants. Even so, they are still part of the local landscape and deserve to be recorded in this state of existence. And that’s the essence of The Rural Record and rural life in general. 50 years ago, almost half of the population was involved in agriculture in some form or fashion. Today only 2% of the population works in this field. That is evident in these small towns.

Towns that used to be epicenters of life in the otherwise middle of nowhere are now almost empty and being overtaken by the elements that surround them. It’s a life that is quickly being forgotten, but still hanging on. It’s a generational thing. Family farms that have a rich history are still functioning, using the latest technology while still residing in towns (and places between towns) that are barely inhabited. That’s one of the special attributes of the rural landscape. You can be somewhere and nowhere at the same time. Wide, open landscapes roll out in front of you with no one in sight for miles.

The Rural Way of Life—though what we see out our back doors is different, I would assume people in rural and urban environments share much in common. We have our shared technology, educational resources, and individual goals that we’re trying to obtain. In this age, we’re connected like no other time in history. That being said, the environment does play a large part in differentiating our lives.

Those that work in the fields or with cattle and other livestock may be a bit more in-tune with the land around them. The weather is something that makes or breaks an entire crop and potentially an entire livelihood. Faith is also a big part of life around here. When you realize you can’t control nature, but see the brilliance of the way life grows from seed to harvest and calf to maturity, you have a good sense that it’s not all up to chance.

People in these parts are often hilariously depicted as a bit slow, especially in the way they talk. And while, there are some folks who do tend to draw out their conversations,

I know many whose minds are racing a hundred miles an hour and are some of the most brilliant people I’ve ever encountered. Of course, there are also people who will spit out a conversation faster than a podcast on double speed.

So, just like everywhere else in the world, there’s a mixture of personalities and quirks that make people special. We may not have access to every form of art and entertainment, business, restaurant experience, etc., but we have our own special blend of hospitality and hard work.

The Rural Record is made for local people to see their towns and everyday life in a special light. When I post certain images, I get comments from people loving that their grandfather’s store or an old, local hangout was featured. It’s also made for people who don’t get to see this part of the world. One of the best things about online platforms like Instagram, is that it’s a global service. I can share what’s unique in my area so that others can enjoy it. It’s a dichotomy. For some, it’s a record of memories, while for others, it’s a glimpse into a different way of life.

No matter where you live, it’s important to document the world around you. That’s precisely what history is. I may not photograph everything or even every town, but what I do has a chance to live on for years to come. Several spots that I’ve shared already have either been torn down, burned, or have otherwise faded into history. But they still live through that split second my shutter moved. This is a celebration of a time-that-was and still is, beauty stuck between eras.

This is the Rural Record.

GONE COUNTRY: Urban Exodus

GONE COUNTRY

Alissa Hessler, the creator of Urban Exodus, a website featuring ex-urbanites who left the city and moved to rural areas, as well as current city dwellers who have urban farms and homesteads within cities, takes us inside her rural Camden, Maine garden.

MY HARBINGER OF SPRING IS THE BLOODY GUTS OF RHUBARB POKING THROUGH THE DIRT. Gruesome when it breaks the surface, it quickly blossoms into beautiful ruby stalks. In Maine, we have few perennials, and rhubarb is the first to make its return to the garden. I love celebrating spring with a batch
of rhubarb syrup and combining the sieved remains with some strawberries to make homemade fruit leather.

I’ve lived in a historic farmhouse in the mountains of Midcoast Maine since 2012 when I moved from Seattle with my husband (then boyfriend). Living in a rural area was familiar, but it took a few years to make the transition to the different rhythms of country life, and it took me growing my own food to awaken the cook in me.

I grew up in northern California near the redwood forests, one of five siblings, with a menagerie of misfit animals. I had a pretty idyllic childhood, and while there was tons of music in our house, there was not much good food! My mother, bless her, tried her best in the kitchen. But, she was born during ration times in England after WWII. Food was limited, and she was raised on canned food and the obscure entrails of animals cooked into pies.

Once I was old enough to safely use the stove I started to cook for my two younger sisters...just the basics. When I left home, I survived on Trader Joe’s pre-made meals and salad. I ate to survive;I took no pleasure in the process or procurement of ingredients. Looking back, I can’t believe I lived for so long without really thinking about what I was eating!

Meeting my husband and moving to Maine altered my relationship with food and cooking. My husband grew up in Maine, and his mother is an incredible cook. (I consider it a great accomplishment if she compliments one of my meals!) Her cookbook collection spans six large bookshelves; cooking is her therapy, and she’s joyful when she feeds people. My husband’s step-dad was a “Back-to-the-Lander” who moved to Maine from New Jersey in the late 60s. He keeps an enormous kitchen garden in growing season, and from this, they construct most of their meals.

When we moved to our farmhouse, there were a bunch of stone-lined garden beds, all horribly overgrown. Inspired by my in-laws, I made it my mission to grow food during my first year in Maine. It took the better part of a month to dig them out and restore the soil. I had no clue what I was doing, but I bought some seedlings, added some compost, weeded, and watered diligently.

That first year’s bounty was beyond my wildest dreams. I couldn’t let any of it go to waste—they were my babies—everything had to go to good use. I scoured the web and found recipes for making sauces and meals from scratch using fresh produce.

So at 30, I first tasted a homemade pasta sauce made entirely from things I’d grown...and I nearly fell over. It tasted like heaven. It tasted how I wanted everything to taste. Right then, my passion was born, and its been growing ever since that first delicious spoonful of sauce!

I’ve taught myself to cook. Cooking—like jazz music—requires improvisation and intuition. Baking— like classical music—requires precision and following what is written. I love that cooking rewards experimentation. I find it boring to follow recipes. I typically look at what ingredients I have available, research some recipes online, and choose a few to roughly follow along with.

Even though I discovered cooking later than some, and my cooking passion was fueled merely by necessity to use what I had grown, it’s truly become an everyday joy. I feel so lucky that I get to grow and cook food for my family. I just wish I had done this in the city where I even had a green space in my apartment complex. I just didn’t understand that growing food would be a life-changing event— how simple cooking can be—and how much cooking your own food impacts your life.

I think we are living in a time where convenience outweighs quality for many, and this isn’t good. I know that anything of quality is better, lastingand more fulfilling. And I think while we are in an uncertain time in society, it’s even more important for people to connect with their environment and learn basic self- sufficiency skills. We are just a fewgenerations removed from a time when nearly everyone played a major role in their own survival—growing their own food, sourcing their own water, making their own clothes, etc.

I’d like to become savvier with these “old-fashioned” skills because they are so useful.

I’m drawn to simple, healthy recipes that pack a flavor punch, and I love simple ingredient combinations that work perfectly...like torn, fresh basil sautéed with green beans, salt/pepper, and olive oil.

So, we embrace a slow lifestyle...we make a lot of household things, we grow our own food, we can, and store food to get us through the bleak winter months, we try to fix things before throwing them out, and—most of all—we welcome whatever the harvest brings us... . Every year some things thrive while others wither. A new pest arrives, there’s a drought or a downpour. Living slow and living close to the land...it always leaves you guessing, learning and growing.

— UrbanExodus.com

THE LITTLE THINGS:

Maine is one of just two states where the median age of the farmer is decreasing. Maine celebrates farmers and their fresh produce with many farm-to-table restaurants. I really appreciate the ingenuity of chefs like Sam Richman of “Sammy’s Deluxe” and my dear friend Annemarie Ahearn who started “Salt Water Farm Cooking School” they’re great at using local ingredients to make delicious food year-round!

WELL ROOTED: Wyse Guide

WELL ROOTED: Wyse Guide

SLOW LIVING THROUGH FOUR  GENERATIONS OF FARMING

from FOLK Autumn 2020

Kaleb Wyse hosts the lifestyle blog and YouTube channel “The Wyse Guide” about his life on Knollgate Farm, where he farms, bakes, cooks, gardens and decorates in Iowa and hopefully inspires others to do the same.

FARMING HAS BEEN A PART OF MY LIFE FROM THE VERY BEGINNING. I grew up on a working farm in southeast Iowa and was able to be outside most days. Mom always had a large vegetable garden and flower gardens and would preserve all throughout the summer. I never thought of these skills as uncommon, or realized that other kids weren’t learning how to garden and put up preserves, but I learned how to do them just by watching and helping. 

For a while, I didn’t think I’d become a farmer too. When I graduated with degrees in business and accounting, however, I realized something wasn’t right. I hated sitting at a desk. That wasn’t the life I found fulfilling. 

At that point I had moved into my grandparents’ farmstead, and after work, I would slowly rip out all the gardens and start them over. In the evening, I would preserve from my garden. I started doing what I inherently knew to do when you have a farmstead. 

A friend and I started Wyse Guide as a way for me to help others learn what I knew from my family. Not everyone is so lucky to grow up and learn how to garden or preserve. Wyse Guide allows me to give others a chance to learn.

As uncharacteristic as it sounds, I grew up a quarter-mile from where I currently live. My years in college made me realize that I am someone who needs to feel a sense of home and deep roots, in a place with meaning. My family has been rooted on these farms for four generations and I can’t knock that feeling. Every time I travel, explore, or leave, the moment I arrive back in Iowa, I know I am home.

Of course, living here does have its setbacks. In a rural area, nothing is just a walk away. Groceries, shops, and conveniences all take a drive to reach. Rural living forces me to be content with not having everything at my fingertips. This is why gardening and preserving have become so important, and really are a way of life. During the summer months, all the vegetables I need are in my backyard. During the winter, I am able to still enjoy the garden with whatever I preserved.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned about farming, it’s that Mother Nature always wins. I have a large yard and gardens full of vegetables. Whenever I think I am mastering one of them, a crop will fail, an insect will take over, or a drought will come. At first I want to get angry, but as the years go on, I realize nothing I do will win over nature. She was here first and will be here last.

Autumn, with its harvest and promise of abundance, is like no other time of year in a rural area. I love hearing the rustling of corn in the fields ready to be harvested. During the fall, the corn dries in the fields until it is time to pick. The breezes blow the leaves and create the sound of my autumn. As they are picked, I love the distinct aroma of corn. There is no way to explain it other than to experience it.

When it comes to autumn decorating, a pumpkin makes all the difference. Even one small pumpkin instantly transforms a room into a cozy autumn picture. I pile, stack, and fill every bowl with all the pumpkins and squash I can grow. There is nothing better than coming home to pumpkins placed by the doors. 

I also make an effort to enjoy this time of year by planning a trip to a local orchard or visiting a pumpkin patch. Going and doing is a fulfilling way to feel autumn. 

It’s funny, every year when pumpkin spice lattes become available, I always think I have to get one. I do and then I’m done. It’s ok, but I’d much rather have a good cup of coffee on my porch at home on a crisp autumn morning. I think I finally realized you cannot commercialize autumn; you need to experience it. And isn’t that exactly what makes it so great?

— wyseguide.com

— @wyseguide

A HOMESTEAD: Windy Peak Vintage

A HOMESTEAD

A Conversation with Windy Peak Vintage

from FOLK Slow Living 2020

Kristi Reed of Windy Peaks Vintage (@windypeakvintage) lives in the countryside of Montana 30 miles north of Yellowstone National Park with her husband and two children where they stay busy tending to their four acres of land, 20 chickens, rabbit, dog and cat.

FOOD HAS ALWAYS BEEN A PART OF MY LIFE WHEREVER I LIVED...I was born in Southern California, but I spent the majority of my childhood in Idaho Falls, Idaho where I met my husband. After college in Portland, Oregon we traveled and eventually moved to Philadelphia. Food and exploring through cooking were a part of those journeys and places.

When we decided to move to Montana, get married and start a family, we weren’t looking to buy a home, but we stumbled upon an old farmhouse on a little bit of land—for a good price—we just couldn’t pass it up! Buying our home has changed everything about how we are able to live. Now, it’s our two children and our little homestead that fill our days...and preparing local foods and sharing our meals is an important part of that.

Cooking was always at the center of my family’s traditions when I was growing up and it’s food that’s at
the core of my fondest childhood memories. Every Christmas we’d eat tamales to honor my grandmother’s California roots, and every summer we’d eat Dutch oven potatoes cooked over the fire at my grandparents’ cabin in Idaho. My mom had a few staple recipes she’d cook for special occasions and she taught me how to make them—they’re still my go- to’s!

Food was also as much a part of the everyday of my childhood as it was holidays and celebrations. When
I was young, my dad fell ill and my mom started working full-time while my dad stayed home with us kids. Even when he was feeling his worst, he would always have dinner on the table for us. Sitting down to a meal everyday with my family as a child really influenced how I view the importance of togetherness at mealtimes. I want to show my children that it’s time for more than just a meal...it’s time to slow down and be together.

I didn’t realize I had a passion for cooking until I started experimenting with being a vegetarian and vegan
in college. It allowed me to explore ingredients, recipes and a whole new range of flavors. I bonded with friends over cooking and eating meals together.

I truly love food and the entire culture of cooking a meal. Preparing a meal opens a window for creativity, while also forcing us to slow down at the same time. I treasure afternoons spent slowly chopping, stirring, prepping ingredients and allowing a pot to simmer. I feel strongly about the importance of resourceful and seasonal cooking and I feel that embracing this is so important and a part of who I am.

Living rural on our small homestead has forced us to expand our cooking abilities. We don’t have the great varieties of cultural foods or restaurants that you have in any city. This isn’t frustrating; instead, we see it as challenge to learn how to do things ourselves. The idea that cooking is a learning process is fulfilling. There’s always something more to learn, always something new to try.

I find inspiration for cooking from the seasons and base much of my meal preparations on what is ready
in the garden, how many eggs we’re getting from the chickens, or what was preserved for the winter.

I am drawn to the ‘slow living’ movement because I truly believe that there is more to life than working a 9–5 just to make money for retirement. There is a lot of magic in living frugally, growing your own food, hunting your own meat, getting your hands dirty. We’ve made sacrifices to be present in our children’s lives and to offer them a special connection to nature.

We have taken conscious steps to embrace slow living by moving to the country where the cost of living is cheaper. We rarely go out to eat, we make everything from scratch, we buy and sell vintage, and we get our kicks filling our wardrobe at the local quarter sale! It’s each of these small things that add up in ways that are meaningful, it’s each of these decisions and choices that allow us to live the way that we do.

There are so many things that I work to embrace everyday, things that define my outlook...hanging laundry on
the clotheslines in the summertime, fetching eggs from the nests every morning, listening to the radio in the morning while sipping coffee with my family, eating jam made with currants my toddler picked from the front yard. With much the same gratitude and pride in being resourceful, I love using what is around me to make a meal— this is one of my very favorite things!

My very favorite time of year is when the grass starts to green and there’s still snow on the mountaintops. After surviving months of harsh and freezing weather, I’m always convinced that there is no prettier place than Montana in the springtime. I look forward to planting seeds inside and watching the plants slowly grow until they are ready to be planted in the garden to flourish during our short little growing season.

I love knowing that there’s another season coming toward us, and I greet it with thoughts of produce to gather and meals to prepare and share with my family. I want us to work together for quality over quantity; I want us to embrace living slow and keep nature close.

RHUBARB SHRUB WITH OUR GARDEN GROWN RHUBARB

4 cups chopped rhubarb

2 cups sugar

2 cups apple cider vinegar

1. Toss chopped rhubarb in bowl with sugar, cover tightly with towel. Let mixture sit (covered) 2 days, stirring 1x/ day.

NOTE: After 2 days mixture should be pretty soupy.
2. Strain liquid into measuring cup, discard fruit chunks.

3. Combine strained syrup with equal amount of vinegar (less if you want
it on the sweeter, less vinegary side). Taste as you slowly add vinegar to get your desired flavor.

4. Pour the shrub in a covered container or jar; store in the fridge.

Well Rooted {an Autumn Issue Preview}

WELL ROOTED

SLOW LIVING THROUGH FOUR GENERATIONS OF FARMING

Kaleb Wyse hosts the lifestyle blog and YouTube channel “The Wyse Guide” about his life on Knollgate Farm, where he farms, bakes, cooks, gardens and decorates in Iowa and hopefully inspires others to do the same.

FARMING HAS BEEN A PART OF MY LIFE FROM THE VERY BEGINNING. I grew up on a working farm in southeast Iowa and was able to be outside most days. Mom always had a large vegetable garden and flower gardens and would preserve all throughout the summer. I never thought of these skills as uncommon, or realized that other kids weren’t learning how to garden and put up preserves, but I learned how to do them just by watching and helping. 

For a while, I didn’t think I’d become a farmer too. When I graduated with degrees in business and accounting, however, I realized something wasn’t right. I hated sitting at a desk. That wasn’t the life I found fulfilling. 

At that point I had moved into my grandparents’ farmstead, and after work, I would slowly rip out all the gardens and start them over. In the evening, I would preserve from my garden. I started doing what I inherently knew to do when you have a farmstead. 

A friend and I started Wyse Guide as a way for me to help others learn what I knew from my family. Not everyone is so lucky to grow up and learn how to garden or preserve. Wyse Guide allows me to give others a chance to learn.

FULL STORY IN THE AUTUMN ISSUE

Slow Living Issue Preview: Under a Tin Roof

The following is a preview from our story with Under a Tin Roof in FOLK’s Slow Living issue. To order the issue CLICK HERE

Under a Tin Roof (@underatinroof) has created a quintessential  farmstand and country store along the endless farmland of Iowa.

IT WAS ALWAYS OUR DREAM TO HAVE A BRICK AND MORTAR SHOP TO SELL OUR GOODS. When we moved onto the farm, it seemed like the perfect opportunity to convert the old garage into our store so that our farm work and little shop could go hand-in-hand. At first, we thought our store would be the home for selling our excess vegetables and be a place for other small farms to sell their produce. While this was a fun dream, we decided to change directions and primarily sell flowers. Now we are an “Occasional Shop” where you can stop by on specific dates to purchase our fresh cut flowers or request an appointment! 

What advice would you give to people wanting to shop from roadside market? Always be sure to check our social media channels or website for our next open dates! Since we are not open throughout the week, the best way to know what is available is by seeing what we have shared online. For the freshest flowers, it’s always best to stop by in the morning when we’ve just cut them. 

What is your most popular item? We tend to sell lots of our little Mason jar floral arrangements! They’re the perfect vessel for our customers to bring fresh flowers home without fearing that they’ll wilt before they get home. 

FOR THE FULL STORY ORDER THE ISSUE BY CLICKING HERE

Slow Living Issue Preview: A Conversation with Archie Frink

The following is a preview of our story with Archie Frink from FOLK’s Slow Living issue. To order the issue CLICK HERE

With roots in Appalachia and a spirit fueled by Muir, Kerouac, and the open road Archie Frink (@archiefrink) has created a scenic and well travelled life on the road.

Why do you adventure

Out of necessity to live passionately. I have always had the adventure bug, and as I got older, consciously and subconsciously I created ways to bring adventure more closely to core. Growing up in the valleys of the Great Smoky Mountains without means to have experiences like family vacations, books from the library opened my mind to worlds imaginary and real, the adventurous spirit, empowerment to question the world and seek your own answers, and the dangers and the ecstasy of the path to the unknown.

I spent three years traveling the world in my early twenties and felt more empowered and excited for every day than ever before. When I returned to America and graduated from college, I spent four years working in offices, and I was essentially miserable. The office-in-the-city lifestyle undermined my belief in the work I was doing, even though it was impactful humanitarian aid. I was losing myself. I quit and moved my life to the Pacific Northwest to be close to family in Oregon and Montana and mesmerizing nature in all directions.

My life changed when I left office life and went fully remote with colleagues in Portland and Philadelphia, which coincided with my professional development as a visual creator. It enabled me at first to dip my toes into road life and dirt bagging throughout the Northwest and Northern Rockies, and eventually as I became more comfortable with the lifestyle, commit more fully to a handcrafted adventure lifestyle fueled by creativity. I’ve never looked back.

CLICK HERE TO ORDER THE ISSUE

Slow Living Issue Preview: The Rural Record

The following is a preview of our story with Matthew Walton of The Rural Record from FOLK’s Slow Living issue. For the full story order the issue HERE.

The Rural Way of Life

Though what we see out our back doors is different, I would assume people in rural and urban environments share much in common. We have our shared technology, educational resources, and individual goals that we’re trying to obtain. In this age, we’re connected like no other time in history. That being said, the environment does play a large part in differentiating our lives.

Those that work in the fields or with cattle and other livestock may be a bit more in-tune with the land around them. The weather is something that makes or breaks an entire crop and potentially an entire livelihood. Faith is also a big part of life around here. When you realize you can’t control nature, but see the brilliance of the way life grows from seed to harvest and calf to maturity, you have a good sense that it’s not all up to chance.

People in these parts are often hilariously depicted as a bit slow, especially in the way they talk. And while, there are some folks who do tend to draw out their conversations, I know many whose minds are racing a hundred miles an hour and are some of the most brilliant people I’ve ever encountered. Of course, there are also people who will spit out a conversation faster than a podcast on double speed. So, just like everywhere else in the world, there’s a mixture of personalities and quirks that make people special. We may not have access to every form of art and entertainment, business, restaurant experience, etc., but we have our own special blend of hospitality and hard work.

ORDER THE ISSUE HERE

Life Begins Outside Your Comfort Zone — Mike Kelley

Below is a preview of my conversation with Boston based photographer Mike Kelley.

READ THE FULL CONVERSATION IN FOLK’S SUMMER ISSUE | ORDER HERE

Mike Kelley is a Maine native, Boston resident, and wanderlust at heart that stole our hearts with his calm landscapes, cloudy skies, and images of coastal New England culture.

Why do you explore? I explore for one simple reason, fear of missing out. There are so many places in this world, without exploring and putting myself out there I am scared that I will miss out on truly incredible experiences. 

Why take risks in life? Life begins outside your comfort zone.

 Where are you from? Manchester, Maine.

When you were growing up what or who did you want to be? Growing up...well as a kid...I wanted more than anything to be a paleontologist. I was very much obsessed with dinosaurs and fossils so it was my dream to search for them as a career. Coincidentally I also loved managing money...this is what lead me to the finance field.

Give us a story: 17,000 ft. That’s how high I was in the Bolivian Andes when I blacked out. No memory of the last 1,300 ft of hiking. If you know anything about me, I sometimes make spontaneous, questionable decisions, this was one of those…I arrived in La Paz Bolivia the night before, a city that sits at 11,000ft above sea level. Most people have a hard time breathing the first couple days in the city and many get sick from the lack of oxygen. For some reason, I was fine. I noticed some pressure in my lungs, but nothing I wasn’t already used to. I arrived to my hostel at 10pm on a Monday night, knowing full well that I had Tuesday free (I had planned to do the death road on Wednesday) I called up a local travel agency that was still open and booked a hike for the following morning. 7am I met up with my guide, Choco who didn’t speak a lick of English and we headed into the mountains. A two hour drive and we arrived at the mountain base. A hike with just over 4,000 ft of elevation gain. I can do this easy peasy I thought. We headed up. Within an hour my head ache was becoming unbearable, my vision began to blur, my stomach felt like it was being stabbed constantly by a knife. I had NEVER in my life felt so unbelievably uncomfortable. Symptoms I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. As stubborn as I was, I pushed forward, higher and higher. The symptoms got worse. Little did I know I was entering the early stages of a very serious condition, HAPE, High Altitude Pulmonary Edema. I pushed onward, until I couldn’t anymore. Choco braced me as I lay on the rocks and forced our trip back down the mountain. 17,113ft…I made it just 100 ft. from the summit he later told me in his broken English. This day changed my life, I realized the overwhelming power of nature, something I will never, ever doubt again. So let it be known, take risks in life, but make sure they are calculated or else you may never have the opportunity again.

READ THE FULL CONVERSATION IN FOLK’S SUMMER ISSUE | ORDER HERE

Romance Your Wild — Jay McDonald

A PREVIEW FROM FOLK’S SUMMER 2019 ISSUE. CLICH HERE TO READ THE FULL STORY.

Jay McDonald brings a quality to adventure and photography that is met with equal amounts of humble humor and top notch skills. Known for his portraits in nature and his crystal clear landscapes he has stolen our hearts with his love of the wild.

---

Why do you adventure? Well, to be honest I have severe ADHD and I can’t stand being in one place for a long period of time. I wish I had a more poetic and whimsical answer for you but that’s the real life truth right there haha.

Why do you explore? I think deep down inside of every one of us there is always  that little curious spark. We were built to get up, go further, run faster, etc.. And simply because it’s 2018, a lot of people have settled. I just can’t be one of those people. The nomadic life is long gone, but there’s still a little bit of nomad left in each one of us.

Why take risks in life? Life is too short not to. My older brother Kylan killed himself when I was 16 years old. That same summer, my life long very best friend’s Dad did the same. Prior to that, my Uncle (and more.. the list goes on but I think you get the point). It feels like I have been surrounded by sudden death from mental health and other things my whole life. I value fulfillment, happiness, joy, adventure and love over anything else. The statistics that you and I should both not be alive right now are too high not to do something crazy and live a little. As cliche as it is for me to say this, you have to “Romance Your Wild”, because today might be your last chance. 

What is your 9-5? I am a full time commercial photographer (yes not everything I shoot looks like my Instagram)... I had pursued a promising career in exotic dancing but apparently “Chip and Whales” wasn’t very marketable and I wasn’t willing decrease my carbs or fat load. If I am going to bring home the bacon, I am gonna eat it too.

READ THE FULL STORY IN OUR SUMMER 2019 ISSUE. CLICK HERE TO ORDER.