Inspired Photography

A friend's dad always said, "Don't ever let schoolin' get in the way of your education."  I'm glad I never did.  

At age 10, I embarked on my first trip abroad to Austria for a family ski trip.  Foreign travel opened my eyes to a larger world of new sights, sounds, smells, and tastes - experiences that cannot be taught in a classroom. The trip to Austria would be the first of many.  At fourteen, I spent the summer abroad in Germany, and have since traveled to 27 other countries, including a few island countries, and summers in France and Mexico.  My love for travel and other cultures even led me to a Master's degree in International Relations.

I am inspired most by foreign travel.  When I need to recharge, I love to hop on a plane and get lost in a sea of new faces, places, and stimuli.  I find that I appreciate my life and surroundings even more when I come back home to Kentucky.

Ansel Adams said, “You don't make a photograph just with a camera. You bring to the act of photography all the pictures you have seen, the books you have read, the music you have heard, the people you have loved.” I would add, "the places you have traveled." 

I see Gertrude Stein, F. Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald in Paris,

Hemingway at a bull fight,



Washington Irving in the shadows of the Alhambra,

my ancestors in Scotland,

and my heart in Kentucky.

Follow us on Instagram to see more of our inspired Kentucky photography: http://instagram.com/herkentucky.

Kentucky Inspires Me

A few weeks ago, I was reading a fun fashion blog -- Glitter and Gingham -- that's run by a Lexington expat. She'd built an outfit around a fun Kentucky t-shirt, and she started the post out by saying "I have a theory that every Kentuckian is obsessed with Kentucky." Now, Shelby's outfit was adorable, but her idea is what really stuck with me.

Gratz Park, Lexington

Most Kentuckians I know are really into being from Kentucky. We spend a lot of time quoting little factoids about the Commonwealth. And why shouldn't we? We're only home to the prettiest land, the best college basketball teams, the greatest horse race, and bourbon. Any one of these are enough to make us cocky. No wonder most of us are, to borrow the phrase, obsessed. 

Rupp Arena

Here at HerKentucky, we've been focusing on inspiration lately. The people and places and sights and sounds that inspire us. As we each have posted essays and photos about our sources of inspiration, I've realized how much Kentucky inspires me every day -- from its rich traditions and history to its unique and beautiful scenery.

Downtown Louisville

Whether my love for The Bluegrass State stems from obsession or inspiration, I find that my Kentucky experience colors my writing, my political viewpoint, my approach to cooking and hospitality, and so many other aspects of my daily life. In so many ways, Kentucky inspires me every day.

Haupt Humanities Building, Transylvania

How does Kentucky inspire you?

The Belle of Louisville

{all photos are my own.}

Everything I Really Needed to Know About Ministry, I Learned as a Sorority Rush Chair.

HerKentucky is thrilled to welcome Erin Smallwood Wathen for another brilliant post! I first met Erin when we were sorority sisters at Transylvania; I love this beautiful essay on how our Phi Mu days prepared her for her work in the ministry! -- HCW

I used to want to be a dancer. Preferably on Broadway. I wanted to be an English teacher. I wanted to be the boss of a newspaper or magazine. I wanted to write children’s books. I dabbled in the idea of sociology, and had a brief affair—you know, college experimentation—with what life might be like in the non-profit world.

But never in 800 years would it have occurred to my pre-adulthood self that, “Hey, I’m going to be a preacher!”

Yeah, God’s got a sense of humor like that. This calling sneaked up on me like an April snow in Kentucky—you know it can happen, but you never quite let yourself read the signs, you know? Anyway…I spent my youth, and even my college career, utterly oblivious to the signs that I was headed for a life in ministry.  And yet, I was being shaped for this calling at every moment along the way.

I look around at my life every now and then and say, you know, I really caught a glimpse of this pastor gig when I was teaching dance. Or waiting tables. Or when I found my first real soul friend in 7th grade. Or sitting on the porch with my Mamaw. Or reading the first few books that really blew the top off the world.

Growing up Kentucky, I learned the sacred nature of hospitality, especially where food is involved; I developed a sense of place, and a love of the vernacular; I valued music, art and literature that is engaging, authentic, and unfussy; and really, I just took in the truth that air, soil, and even the moisture in the air smacks of something holy. Every breath of the place—making me ready for this time in my life, whether I knew it or not.

And while it may not sound as spiritual as, say, tobacco hanging in a barn or good bluegrass music or real fried chicken: everything I really needed to know about ministry, I learned as a sorority rush chair.

Like:

1. If it fits on a t-shirt, it’s probably not that important. But

2. matching tshirts are still important, in a philosophical sort of way.

3. Fake it til you make it. The appearance of a growing organization will actually evolve into a growing organization.

4. Sleep deprivation is a bonding experience. (Rush week=mission trip, church camp, leadership retreat, Holy week, etc)

5. A beautiful, welcoming space is not an extravagance; it is hospitality.

6. Singing loudly is more important than singing well.

7. Manners, manners, manners.

8. Put the pretty people in front.

9. We’re all pretty people.

10. As long as there’s food, people are happy.

11. The more important a ritual is supposed to be, the more likely you are to laugh at inappropriate times.

11.5. Laughter=also a sacred ritual.

12. Voting people out will always come back to haunt you.

There are no big moments, small moments, or waiting spaces. There is no downtime, and there is no endgame. It is all the perfect, winding way of grace, and it will always take us somewhere good, eventually…Someplace where the grass is blue, the people are real, and ‘fried’ is not a 4-letter word.

You can read more from Erin on her blog, Irreverin, and her Facebook page.

You Can Take the Girl Out Of Kentucky...

 HerKentucky is thrilled to welcome our newest contributor, my dear friend and college classmate Allie Townsend! Allie, a Henderson native and Transylvania alumna, lives in North Carolina with a houseful of boys -- her husband and college sweetheart Landy, their three amazing boys, and their sweet old dog. Allie gracefully juggles her roles as freelance writer and supermom while making sure her kids are wearing the right (Wildcat) shade of blue deep in the heart of ACC country. --HCW

Here I sit, a solid six years into my second stint in the heart of North Carolina. I am wondering, as I often do, whether I will ever feel that this place is home. I mean, shouldn’t I? I have spent nearly a fifth of my life here; I enjoy the mild weather and the mere glances I give to my heavy winter coat as it remains hanging in the closet; I love our close-knit neighborhood where we have made top-shelf friends; and should we ever move away, my first thought is that I cannot possibly bear to leave my gym. Shoot, y’all, I can arrive either at the beach or in the mountains within two hours. Despite all the benefits, the answer remains and always shall be: no, not really. Home, as they say, is where the heart is. And for us? Home is Kentucky.

Our family’s roots are firmly planted in western Kentucky, although we made our way all around the Commonwealth. I was born and raised in Henderson, my husband in Owensboro. Despite growing up only 30 minutes removed, we never crossed paths until I laid eyes on that sandy haired boy in Dr. Lyon’s Western Civ class at Transylvania University, way the heck back in 1993. There we learned that both my grandfather and Landy’s father were Middlesboro natives. We called Louisville home after graduation, and we bought our first house in St. Matthews when we were married in 1999. Two of our three boys were born at Baptist East in Louisville. Our little caboose baby will always be known as the only North Carolina native in the family, but he will have a heavy dose of Big Blue to help him learn that he is a Kentuckian at heart.

Speaking of Big Blue, we endeavor to raise Kentucky-loving kids right on Tobacco Road. We must contend with NC State, UNC, and Duke, all of which lie within a 45-minute drive from our home. Just kidding about Duke - nobody here likes them, either. I will have much to say about the tumult of living outside SEC country. Never did I think I would find myself commiserating with Gators or the Crimson Tide (The Pachyderms? I don't know.), but sure enough, here we are, acting as if nobody else is allowed to say a word against our sisters and brothers.

I might be the most chronically homesick girl you’ve ever known. Fortunately, there have been many occasions when Kentucky has reached out with a pat on the back and a, “There, there.” Last fall, as I was bustling between school and soccer practice, a truck stopped outside the house and a nice man came out to talk to us about our UK flag. Turns out? Our new friend, Scott Lay, knows half of the Phi Taus from my class at Transylvania. And now there he is, just living right behind us with his beautiful family! Our neighbor across the street? The super-sweet Emily Branscum Belanger, UK alumna from Somerset! A couple of doors down from them lives the family of former UK offensive lineman Kevin Disotelle. Just a few months ago, while attending a spa day to celebrate a friend’s birthday, I sat down with the one girl I didn’t yet know, the absolutely lovely Kari Kirby Shoaf, a proud UK graduate!

Oddly enough, the most comforting bit of home did not come from a Kentuckian at all. One of the first things I discovered about my neighbor and serious Tar Heel, Monica Kinton, was that her grandmother hailed from Hardin County. Of course, she didn’t tell me the county like you fine Kentuckians would, but she did say, “E-town,” so I knew she was legit. I practically swooned when she relayed to me that her grandmother pronounced “eggs” just like my own Hardin County born mother: “aigs.”  At that moment, I knew I would be just fine no matter my zip code.

After living here in beautiful North Carolina for so long, I could go on and on about all the things I really do love here. What I love most of all, though, is that Kentucky is everywhere, and thank goodness for that.

Can I Get a Y'all-alujah?

 HerKentucky is thrilled to welcome our newest contributor -- my friend and sorority sister Erin Smallwood Wathen. Erin is a London, KY native and an alumna of Transylvania University and Lexington Theological Seminary. Erin and her husband live in Arizona with their two small children and their dog named Van Halen. Erin is the Senior Pastor of Foothills Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) in north Phoenix. Erin's  blog, Irreverin (Facebook her here) is featured as part of  the Progressive Christian Network on Patheos; her reflections on faith, family and pop culture always keep me entertained! -- HCW

I live in the midst of an amazing desert landscape. Trails from my backyard lead into the foothills of the Sonoran Mountains. Their silhouette defines the north horizon, and depending on season and time of day, they range in color from blue to brown to green, sometimes even pink. The giant saguaro cacti lift their hands in praise each morning. Most days of the year, the sky shimmers an aching, iridescent blue that your eyes can scarcely take in. It provides a backdrop for the twice daily hot air balloon shows that we enjoy from our patio. Meanwhile, the sacred smell of the scarce rain defies description. And don’t get me started on our rainbows.  Like God got a new set of magic markers and took up the spirit of a 3-year-old for the day. 

And the moon and stars that live over my house? I’m sorry, but they’re better than yours. They really are.

All this is true.  But y’all…some days I need some green grass so badly that I almost wish I played golf. (out here in PGA land, they somehow manage to find water enough for rainforest-like turf, even in the dead-ass middle of summer). Some days, I want to see fall color so badly that my family will pile in the car and drive two hours north. Some days, I want to order a biscuit and know that it did not come from the freezer. Some days, I need to say ‘y’all’ and not have it be a thing. You know?

Of course you know. You are Kentucky women. You know what it is to love a place and have it be a part of you. You might even know what it is to leave such a place. And if you know what it is to leave, then you also know what it means to take it with you.

There is, of course, much that I miss about my old Kentucky home. Beyond the biscuits and the four distinct seasons, I also miss a world in which people know (and care about) their neighbors. And I certainly miss life where people know what’s what about a certain spirit that comes from a barrel. True story: my husband and I were in a nice restaurant and we asked our server for the top shelf bourbon selection. And—I swear to God, ladies—he tried to offer us a ‘wonderful Crown Royal blend…’ (sigh). We had to learn him something about bourbon right then and there. But at least we tip well…

ANYway…I miss the place on the map where such things need not be explained. But what I’ve found in my wilderness wandering years is this: for all that I miss and even mourn about my homescape, most of what really matters is that which I’ve brought with me. And I don’t just mean an old Southern Living cook book and my grandmother’s end tables. I don’t even mean the ‘y’all’ that occasionally comes from my pulpit—unbidden and unplanned as though brought forth by the Holy Spirit. 

While my literal Kentucky accent has certainly rolled with me for this whole journey, what I really brought with me was a certain kind of voice. It is a voice that you can hear in my preaching, in my writing, and in my everyday encounters. It bears a ‘charm and disarm’ quality that allows me to say things preachers can’t always say (like, ‘yes, Jesus loves gay people. And in fact, if the church had more of them, we would have better decorations and better music—choreography, even!). It also tells the world that I’ve got just enough redneck lurking right beneath the surface, so perhaps you don’t want to mess with me.

It’s a voice that speaks the truth even when the truth is not pretty—and while I know many prophetic preachers and powerful parents who can speak the truth in love, my brand of gospel is uniquely Kentucky. It bears the tones of Wendell Berry and Loretta Lynn, echoes of Silas House and my own grandparents. And I’m pretty sure that, like Moses, I had to leave home and head out to the wilderness in order to really hear it. 

On my frequent sojourns in the desert, I take in the stark beauty of this landscape. For all its barrenness, it is a stunning and deeply spiritual place. But in my heart of hearts, I know that I brought that wilderness voice with me. It keeps me rooted for the roaming, and calls me to speak, to preach, to write the world’s truth, as it was and is to come. It is a gospel that both moves and shapes me; it grounds me and keeps me moving, all at the same time. And you’d better believe, that good news is for not just some of us, but for y’all.

Kentucky in One Word: Beautiful

It's hard to reduce our home state to just one word. I really struggled with the idea, but kept coming back to the word "beautiful."

Native Americans discovered and returned to Kentucky again and again for the bounty that the land provided. Later, the Early European settlers must have seen bits of home in the highlands of Appalachia, the verdant meadows of the Bluegrass and the meandering waterways across the region. Today, I often find myself gasping at the beauty my state offers, and I'm in awe of the diversity of that beauty. Mountains, forests, rivers, lakes, and arches are some of the beautiful natural world we call home, but we've also had the (generally) good sense to work to preserve a lot of those places and enhance them.

My words are woefully inadequate to describe the beauty of Kentucky, but if you've ever lived through a Kentucky spring, you know that the green surrounding you is enough to make your heart squeeze with joy. If you've ever hiked a Kentucky forest on a crisp autumn day, you know the sights, sounds and smells of Kentucky.

Kentucky is beautiful beyond words and beyond my amateur photography abilities. I hope you enjoy some of my favorite images and will share links to some of your favorites!

Waterfalls Abound in Kentucky - Cove Spring Nature Preserve, Frankfort

Bright Summer Colors - Washington County

Majestic Waterways - Russell Fork River, Elkhorn City

Spring is Perfection in the Bluegrass - Capitol Lawn, Frankfort

Winter Brings Its Own Beauty - Cove Spring Nature Preserve, Frankfort

Fall in Appalachia - Russell Fork Gorge, Kentucky/Virginia Border

Arches! - Red River Gorge, Slade

Kentucky In One Word: Friendly

I don't know about you, but if I had to describe Kentucky in one word, it would be friendly.  I have been all over the great commonwealth and one thing is consistent: friendliness.  Whether you're west in Paducah, east in Pikeville, north in Louisville (or N'ucky!), or south in Bowling Green, the one common thread is that everyone is nice.   

My Mom always said to treat others as you would want to be treated and I feel like that's a distinctive trait among many Kentuckians.  My Mom told me a story last week about how one of her friends was driving her elderly father to town to wait on someone that was meeting them.  The person was running late and her father was getting antsy.  She saw that an older man that was also sitting at this McDonald's and she went up to him and said, "excuse me sir, but you look like a farmer and my Dad is getting antsy over there waiting for someone to meet him, can you go talk to him?"  My Mom said that the man went over and talked to her friend's father for an hour about farming.  And that my friends is a perfect example of how people in Kentucky are super-friendly (and love to talk as well).  

Celebrities who come to Louisville for the Derby will go on and on about how friendly everyone was and how hospitable people were to them.  

I've lived in Lexington, Florida, and had a short study abroad stint in Paris (and add in traveling around the US for work) and I can personally say that Kentuckians are the friendliest that I've come in contact with.