FOLK Autumn 2020 Preview

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folk

LIVE AUTHENTIC

Autumn ALL THE COMFORTS OF THE SEASON


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folk

LIVE AUTHENTIC

The world needs more color, more autumns, more cozy comforts of the season. The world needs less black and white, we need a life lived in the full glorious shades and hues of autumn. We set out to create an issue that felt good. In a world where there is endless chaos and noise we sought to create a world that is calm, that is colorful, that is inviting, and a world that feels forever like autumn. To each of you that journeys through the seasons and the roads and highways with us we thank you. This journey continues on.

Cover Photo: Kyle Finn Dempsey

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CONTENTS

ISSUE SIXTEEN— AUTUMN

4 10 14 24 30 36 40 42 46 50 52 56 58 60 66 74 80 84

SPLENDOR OF THE SEASON CAIN CHURCH IN THE WILD BOSTON GENERAL STORE MAKING DO SEASONS A JET PRIMER UNDENIABLE MAGIC WELL ROOTED AUTUMN'S WISDOM COUNTY ROAD LIFE SLOWS DOWN MILK & HONEY THE VIEW DREAMLAND TRAVELING THE WORLD GENUINE LOVE A CERTAIN CURIOSITY

A Special Baking Section 2 8 16

HARVEST A HOMESTEAD A SOUTHERN SWEETNESS

Photo by Elena Trunfio

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Email: folklifestyle@gmail.com


“He found himself wondering at times, especially in the autumn, about the wild lands, and strange visions of mountains that he had never seen came into his dreams.” — J.R.R. Tolkien

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splendor of the season

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WE SHOULD START BY ACKNOWLEDGING THAT YES, “LEAF PEEPING� IS A REAL TERM. It describes the act of intentionally viewing the changing leaves of the autumn season. Autumn in the east begins in early September and truly continues on through mid-November. The first signs will be the drying of the grasses and ground cover, and of course the vibrant colors of the goldenrod. The leaves will begin to change, with subtle hints of yellow appearing. An occasional red tree will appear. Slowly over the next two months the landscapes will morph into a full painterly scene of rich golds, oranges, reds, and yellows. The final phase of fall will be soft yellows and deep burgundies of the last remaining

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trees. In my opinion this final phase is the best time to view Central Park. The other phases are best spent in the wilds of the New England region. It is no secret that autumn is my favorite season. I should preface this piece by saying I love the beauty of each and every season. I love the warmth and the outdoors of summer. I love the rebirth of spring. I even love the calm quiet of winter. Autumn however is my favorite. The spirit of the season, a season of thanksgiving, a season of harvest, and a season of the landscapes being washed in color absolutely captivates me each year. The past two years I have gone to the Pacific Northwest for the autumn season. This year it was decided I will spend it with small trips to Maine, Pennsylvania,


Church in the

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Wild


I suppose a proper introduction is where I should start things off. My name is Joshua Winders, but most people call me J.K. I am an artist of many trades, full-time explorer, and red head with a soul. I’ve been a collector of different hobbies and interests for quite some time now, and I’ve always sought ways to combine then in unique and special ways. For well over a decade, photography has been my primary outlet and where I invest most of my creativity. However, after graduating high school and being freed from the confines of English and Creative Writing prompts and assignments, I began writing about things I actually enjoyed writing about and subsequently develop a deeper admiration for the written word. My latest book, Off The Beaten Path, regales some of my most treasured adventures across the dusty recesses of the high deserts, through the lush forests of the Pacific Northwest, and among the wondrous Canadian Rockies. The book also delves into the ideas of what it means to explore and discover the enlightening parts of the world and in turn within oneself. While I am very proud of all of the experiences documented in this book, I’m extremely excited to share with you a little bit from my own favorite chapter that recounts some of my first experiences among thew Grand Tetons in Western Wyoming.

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AMERICAN MADE

Boston General Store Bringing back connection and things that last April Gabriel is a former architect who owns and operates the Boston General Store. I WAS RAISED IN HOUSTON, TEXAS, BUT MY CHILDHOOD WAS MARKED BY UNFORGETTABLE SUMMERS SPENT IN THE BERKSHIRES WITH MY NANNA. She was a strong, seemingly magical woman who revealed to me the value of life's simple pleasures. The most gratifying days spent with her were when we waded through wild raspberry bushes, wearing the same old tattered chambrays we used every year, with mason jars connected at our waists filled with fruit. We picked until our hands were smudged red and we couldn't carry anymore. Equally lasting are the memories of the pots and pans in her perfectly laid-out kitchen that we would use later in the day to make the jam. These were pots and pans she had my entire life, and some of which live in my mother's kitchen today. Everything changed in my life the day my Nanna had a stroke while I was on the phone with her. I was in Houston, and I felt so helpless being so far away. I decided then and there that I needed to be closer to her. That day really shifted my priorities and made me remember how important family is. I moved to Boston soon after that.

The funny thing is that I never set out to own a shop. I was working as an architect, and in between projects, I was looking for a creative outlet. I had always wanted to design a website, so I created a mockup of the type of e-commerce site I would want to shop. It was purely to keep my design bug sated, but after completing it, my Nanna suggested that I actually buy the products I used and try to make a go of it. She offered to give me 15k to buy them and I couldn’t turn it down. Creating a virtual experience for people really sparked something in me. During my work as an architect, I was so used to creating physical spaces that took months to complete. With the website, I could test ideas and change them hundreds of times till I got things right. I remember, in the beginning, I was so excited about what this little project could morph into. The steps that followed happened organically. I started doing pop-up stands at farmer’s markets so I could test new products and hear what customers thought. After doing that for a year or so, I realized that I loved human interaction too much not to do

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MAKING DO Over two decades ago, on one of Norma and Jennifer’s many trips to the northeast, they found a small fabric bird. Just under three inches long, it was made of calico with embroidered eyes. While just a very simple and primitive bird, it went on to inspire many other folk art birds.

In the plain farmhouses and cabins of the mid-1800’s, women brightened their days with what came to be known as the art of “making-do.” Using bits of cloth, button, and whatever they had on hand, they crafted dolls for their daughters, fabric thread-holders for themselves, and decorations for the special occasions in their lives. Over a century later, Norma Schneeman and daughter, Jennifer Schneeman Boudreaux, of Paducah, Kentucky, continue that spirit of inventiveness. They replicate primitive folk art and make-dos with old-fashioned fabric and techniques. No matter what items they’re making, Norma and Jennifer draw on their shared artistic talent.

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I grew up in Metropolis, Illinois where my father owned the local hardware store in town. I learned the entrepreneur spirit at an early age, but after high school, I wanted to go to art school. My father, however, told me “artists were crazy” and sent me to secretarial school instead. I went on to marry my high school sweetheart and had two children: John and Jennifer. By the time Jennifer was in school, we had moved from Metropolis to the country, where many summer days were spent on the family farm with their cousins. I remember many days of doing crafts, helping the kids collect rocks and paint them. Jennifer went on to college and started a career that ultimately landed her as an accountant in Chicago. She became frustrated


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life along the

COUNTY ROAD

Angie Wendricks lives in Markleville Indiana, a small town just north of Indianapolis. She grew up in Pendleton, Indiana, in a small, tight-knit rural community. She is a photographer, stylist, and designer with a love for lifestyle, nature, interiors and capturing the simple moments in life. WHEN I THINK BACK ON MY HISTORY WITH FOOD, I THINK ABOUT GROWING UP WITH MY MOM’S GARDEN. I seem to have one constant memory from my childhood of my mom snipping green beans. She would sit on this little green stool we had—sit by the garden and snip the beans. Mom always said, “The longer you cook green beans, the better they taste.” We often had what my mom would call “garden dinners” which would consist of something on the grill and everything else from the garden— tomatoes and green beans, fresh green onions in a cup of water, cucumbers and onions in a vinegar dressing, plus cottage cheese. My grandparents and neighbor also had gardens. It seemed like most people did back then. I recall everyone would share their specialties with the neighbors. My grandpa grew the biggest prettiest patch of rhubarb, which my grandma would use to make pies. And our neighbors had a big strawberry patch they would let us pick from. I recall picking the berries with my mom and brother—I think for every berry we picked we ate two. Times were a little slower, and the food was enjoyed and shared. | 53 |

My mom and grandma are both self-taught home cooks, passing down recipes from their mothers and grandmothers. My approach to cooking is straightforward and seasonal. I like to cook and bake things as they are at their peak in the season. Everything tastes better that way! Growing up in Indiana influenced my cooking and how I grew up eating. I was surrounded by agriculture, farms, and of course cornfields, which is what people joke that Indiana is known for! My brother and I were always helping tend to Mom’s and Grandpa’s gardens. I’m grateful for those memories. I learned so much about food and to appreciate the work that goes into growing your own. Whether it was planting, tilling, or picking weeds, we spent our summers in the garden. For a long time, my cooking style was very simple, with mostly family recipes. But then I met my husband Alex, who grew up in France! He ate much differently than I did growing up, and I learned a lot from him and his mom. I recall the first time I had real French butter, I thought, “Where has this stuff been all my life?” Alex’s mom first introduced me to adding


CONVERSATIONS We sat down with five photographers and posed the same set of questions to all. Each brings a unique perspective both in life and in photo.

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THE VIEW A journey to Wanaka, New Zealand takes you to a world that moves a little slower, where life is a little more kind, and where nature, the most majestic nature, is truly all around. An essay by Heath Stiltner LEAVING LAX IN SPRINGTIME AND LANDING 15 HOURS LATER IN AUCKLAND, NEW ZEALAND IN THE THROES OF FALL CAN BE DISCONCERTING. It was a subtle reminder, that 8,299 miles and 18 hours into the future separated me from my hometown. Leaving the cliff-side airport, I hopped into a van with Matt & Mia Glastonbury, two strangers who would quickly become friends as we traveled the winding mountain roads to Wanaka, New Zealand. | 61 |

Between the mountain passes and conversations with Matt, I saw a field full of deer. Noticing them inside a fence, I asked my driver, ‘Are these deer pets? I’m not used to seeing them inside a fence.’ He laughed and responded, “These deer are being raised for their meat and velvet, and this won’t be the first farm you see them on.” He explained to me that when they were introduced by the English as wild game they overpopulated the island without any natural predators hunting them. “They


"FALL FEELS LIKE A DREAM IN NEW ENGLAND. IT'S NOT ABOUT BIG GRAND VIEWS HERE, BUT ABOUT LITTLE NOOKS AND CRANNIES AND A VAST VARIETY OF COLORS." | 66 |


Dreamland AUTUMN IN NEW ENGLAND WITH KYLE FINN DEMPSEY

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A

Certain Curiosity a conversation with S. Cole Kiburz

— photo Rae Michalik

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