Listening to Vinyl and Shooting a Roll of 10 Frames with Kate Berry
[Series] On Slow Living #9
January 19, 2025
Something’s happening, something’s too beautiful for words, something must be shared, something changed, and pictures are a way to name things.
There is something wild yet utterly fulfilling where you experience the gritty reality of humanity behind that which will ultimately become a polished and published picture-filled cookbook. The time and energy it takes to cook, plate, set a table then take photographs is significant.
Food: a play in seven acts. Eating at times can be the shortest act (unless you really slow down, linger, chew). There’s the planning, the grocery shopping, the schlepping, the hours of prepping and cooking, washing up, eating and washing up again. This is the case even when a cookbook isn’t the project at hand. This is the reality of family home cooking. If the finished cookbook could only talk. There would be an animated cacophony of smells, stories, late nights and early mornings, excel sheets, hair pulling, music and mood boards. Sit and enjoy! The food is exquisite. It’s divine. Foodieschmoodie—we all know, desire, and need to eat good food.
Kate and I finally met last November while working on this project. I briefly alluded to it here. For two weeks we ate well. I cooked, adding little notes here and there. I supported with the plating and styling. Kate took gorgeous photos. Kelsey rocked it. Claire led us all. We washed up and did it all over again. It solidified just how much I love the physicality of hands-on work. All my senses firing. In the days when I cooked at a Jewish deli and bakery making soups, casseroles, salads, and deserts our cookbook library was nothing like its soon to be modern cousin. They were practically biblical, hardback, and void of any pictures—maybe one or two. I recall having to thoroughly read every last word, ask questions, and play around, eventually learning the nuances of food and the recipes in which they appeared. Times have changed. My expertise builds.
Writing can be quite insular and lonely work. I think a lot of the creative arts are. Blocks of time pass where one exists in a world of solitary imagination. Therefore a project like this was a breath of fresh air. I was inspired. I think this is why, in order to maintain any level of sanity, I dig in the dirt, plant, and water things. It keeps my vibrations high and my appreciation of life itself even higher.
So here’s to the folks behind the pictures, behind the words, behind the meal. Kate, you are one of them. I see how you translate a point of connection through the people and places you capture. It’s something real where people are or want to be. I’m excited for all that is in store for you, the life you’re choosing to live, and the cool projects you have in the wings—may they soar. Thank you for all the music, the books, and stories you shared. May our paths most definitely cross again soon.
Thank you so much Kate!
photo© Kate Berry
photo© Kate Berry overlooking Hanakāpīʻai Beach
What does slow living mean to you?
The more I think about it, the more this concept of slow living actually underpins so much of how I want to live my life. Less about time itself, or the speed at which things move, and more about intentionality, quality and maybe an element of patience and trust too.
Unpacking what ‘success’ actually means really led me to really understand ‘slow living’, or ‘living well’. Many people thrive in the fast life: work hard, play hard, big cities, abundance of choice, living for the weekend, long hours, fat paychecks, planning for retirement. And that’s totally fine, but I think I realised very early on it wasn’t for me. It’s not about the end goal, but about the process, our daily life and the quality of that existence. It’s how we consume. What we place value on. How we create and build something of deeper meaning.
The Japanese call what I’m talking about Ikigai—our purpose for living and finding joyful moments. If you’re lucky enough to do something you love, or be able to make money from your art and help people along the way then there isn’t an urge to retire. Our need for purpose instead of financial gain drives us and for me that purpose will remain until I die. Sometimes I feel this external pressure, that I’m not on set every day, hustling, buying the house, the car, etc. and don’t get me wrong, I love working and when it’s flowing, like having money and all it affords me. But I also value time and space.
Quality is born out of slowness, taking time, mastering one’s craft. I like the idea of ‘practice’—meditation, yoga… where there is no end goal. Money shouldn’t necessarily drive our craft. Material wealth is a temporary high whereas true joy for me comes from something much more simple. I am at my happiest when I’m in nature, exercising, cooking, reading, getting good quality sleep and making time for the people I love. Music brings me joy. Gathering stories and forging deep connections bring me joy.
I love slow mornings and I cherish my rituals. Making a hot drink, nourishing myself, exercising, meditating, writing and reading. Everything in life, if done with intention: our words, actions, relationships, how we love, how we create, what we put into our bodies, what we buy (better quality, but less of it), even how we listen to music or experience art (compare listening to full albums on vinyl to streaming songs, seeing an exhibition in real life as opposed to scrolling on instagram, shooting a roll of 10 frames instead of unlimited digital images) can all be considered slow living.
At the time of writing this I’m in Hawaii, which is the perfect place to reflect on this, and the Hawaiian Kahunas, or shaman/priests, talk about ‘mana’ or energy/ life force and how we cultivate ‘mana’ through some of these things I talk about (diet, exercise, rest, connection, music), in order to live our most authentic, balanced and healthy lives.
What's one thing (action, mindset, ritual, habit, etc.) that's essential to maintaining it in your day to day life?
Meditation has been my one main constant for the past 8 years. There are of course numerous benefits to this practice but just taking 20 minutes before you do anything else that day, to declutter the mind, be still and centre is truly a gift. We don’t make enough time to simply pause and listen.
How do you ensure that a little bit of wildness and or nature remains close?
10 years ago whilst living in London I swapped houses with a friend in LA and lived in Topanga Canyon for 6 weeks. This was probably my first experience of slowing down and being immersed in nature. Everything changed for me and I discovered that living in sunshine and in close proximity to nature was what I needed in order to live a fulfilled life.
Living by the ocean has become imperative for me and although my next home (since leaving Venice Beach) is yet to be decided upon, making time to hike and swim in a body of water wherever I find myself is key to my sanity and inner peace.