Connect
To Top

An Inspired Chat with Ashley Gierke of Clearwater/St. Petersburg

Ashley Gierke shared their story and experiences with us recently and you can find our conversation below.

Ashley, we’re thrilled to have you with us today. Before we jump into your intro and the heart of the interview, let’s start with a bit of an ice breaker: What do the first 90 minutes of your day look like?
I typically wake up between 6 and 6:30 a.m. every morning. If my dog, Whiskey (who sleeps right next to me and hogs the bed), is awake, I’ll snuggle him, and if he’s still sleeping, I’ll slide out of bed and try not to disturb him. My boyfriend, Cedric, usually has a cup of coffee ready for me as I settle into my favorite spot on the sofa and begin writing my “morning pages” (from Julia Cameron’s book The Artist’s Way). It’s three pages of journaling I do every morning, and it’s been a life-changing practice. I’m not someone who’s ever kept a diary or journal, but I’m totally hooked on this. I began the practice in January with a hope to do it for twelve weeks, and that has expanded into a goal of twelve months. It’s been a great way to prioritize and build trust with myself by honoring the commitment. Starting the day off by clearing my mind really does wonders for my productivity and mood. Next, I make us juice or smoothies and then hop in the shower before getting into my workday. I love routines, and my morning ritual is something I look forward to every night.

Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
I am a visual artist based in Clearwater, Florida. I work with a range of mediums, including paper-cutting, painting, drawing, and sculpture, often blending techniques to explore form, color, and narrative.

Over the past year, I’ve been working on a special project that’s very near and dear to my heart—creating an illustrated memoir. In 2014, at age thirty, I was diagnosed with breast cancer, and during my recovery, I created more than 300 drawings as a way to process the various emotions I was experiencing. Last year, on my ten-year anniversary, I decided it was time to pull the drawings out from my closet and make something with them. I was awarded a grant from Creative Pinellas and Pinellas County to create a book, and I’ve spent the last nine months weaving together my written story with my drawings. My illustrated memoir, titled Lifectomy, will be published this year. This beautifully crafted book will feature 75 thoughtfully curated drawings from the larger collection.

The story walks readers through my cancer journey, the ending of a significant long-term relationship, my return to dating, my drawing process, and how my art practice ultimately brought me emotional healing. My hope is that this book will help others feel less alone in their struggles with disease or any type of loss, and see how valuable a daily creative practice can be for processing emotions. I hope it’s a reminder that healing is possible, and may be taking place before you can actually see it.

What are you being called to do now, that you may have been afraid of before?
Creating my memoir has felt like a calling. While it would be easier to keep looking forward, and not put my past cancer experience under a microscope, it felt like a shame to not do something with the large collection of drawings I had made. Mainly, I want others to see how impactful and beneficial my art practice was to my healing because if it worked for me, it can work for others. Writing a book is something I never imagined I was capable of, and putting myself out there in this very personal way has been scary, but if it can help others, it’s worth the risk of judgement. The next step in this process is promoting the book and finding ways to get it in front of my audience, and of course selling it. This feels like the most intimidating part, but I am proud of the book, and hopeful that it will find its people and make an impact in their lives.

When did you stop hiding your pain and start using it as power?
In Lifectomy, I talk about the depths of my emotional pain prior to my cancer diagnosis and describe how, in some ways, the cancer felt like a manifestation of that pain. At the time, only a few people I was very close with knew how I was feeling; otherwise, I pretended to be fine. I began sharing more about what I was going through emotionally as I created drawings during my recovery and posted them on social media. The reception was surprising and wonderful. It felt great to see the drawings that were very personal and vulnerable to me, resonate with others. The whole process was more about getting my ideas out of my head and onto paper, than it was about using my pain as power. Feeling more connected, powerful perhaps, was certainly a byproduct, but not the original intent.

So a lot of these questions go deep, but if you are open to it, we’ve got a few more questions that we’d love to get your take on. Is the public version of you the real you?
I think so. I want it to be. Like most, I’m certainly guilty of trying to present the best version of myself and my life on social media. After all, I am operating a business, so I always try to put my best foot forward. I desire to inspire others, and much of my work is about aesthetics, so taking care with how something looks or is presented is a priority. Do my followers on Instagram know that I’m struggling with acne right now? Probably not—but now they do!

I am an open book about my life, and I believe that vulnerability and authenticity are pivotal to forming genuine connections with others, so I try to live that as best I can.

Okay, so before we go, let’s tackle one more area. What is the story you hope people tell about you when you’re gone?
I hope to be remembered as someone who cared about others, who was skilled at seeing the beauty in life, and who shared it generously through art. I hope to have shown people that with curiosity and experimentation, you can unearth new and exciting ideas and find wonder in simple things.

For example, I saw a slime trail from a snail on my kitchen window one morning. It got me thinking about how cool it would be if snails were actually communicating with us through the marks they leave with their slime. This gave me the idea to make a series of pieces featuring snails (plastic toy snails) leaving sweet messages for us. “You are beautiful,” “slow down,” and floral doodles are a few of the recent designs I’ve made. I use holographic paper for the slime trail, so it has an iridescent quality like real mucus, yet is a bit more appealing as it reveals a spectrum of colors as you move around the design.

This project is a small creative gesture that hopefully inspires people to pay a little more attention to non-human living beings, and to see and appreciate the magic that surrounds us.

Contact Info:

Suggest a Story: VoyageTampa is built on recommendations from the community; it’s how we uncover hidden gems, so if you or someone you know deserves recognition please let us know here.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

More in Local Stories