WHO WE WERE, ARE … BECOMING
Ashley Kent Carrithers
Founder and chief executive officer of WARP Place, Ashley Carrithers has led a somewhat astounding life filled with adventure, experience, happiness and love. In fact he created WARP Place after reflecting that he was living the Best Life Ever Lived, and wondered what the competition might look like. Among other things, he has written 5 books (available in Bookstore), and founded an environmental foundation and press. He lives in the Argentine Patagonia, and allows that this site was developed to both sell his writings and have some entrepreneurial fun, but also to raise money for Earth Care – hopes you will get involved and enjoy. Stay tuned for Ashley’s Adventures, coming soon.
A Word From Ashley About WARP Place
Having founded a school in the ’70s on a remote mountain ranch in northern California, we sometimes refer to ourselves as old hippies who, in addition to educating, building, gardening, river-tripping, and playing lots of volleyball, became environmental activists after witnessing up close the attack on our native and beloved forests—once-mighty trees bleeding off the indifferent backs of logging trucks.
Now, many miles and years down the road, we offer the promise of WARP Place to bring in grassroots, communal, and international energy along with the funds to support hard-fighting organizations committed to Earth Care. We hope the evolving WARP Place will host conversations and stimulate action on global environmental fronts. In these oft-dark times that seem to present extreme challenges at every turn, we go forward with positive feelings. We go lightheartedly, building this place from scratch and hoping from first light that many within our growing community will truly enjoy the creation.
Thanks for getting involved.
Russell Fuller
Pictured here with his younger daughter, Sierra, Russell was born in Boston, schooled in Massachusetts, Ohio, North Carolina, and northern California before he realized he could quit.
With a couple of other teachers willing to work dirt-cheap and a group of parents deeply disaffected from the public schools, he co-founded a school for 4 through 10-year-olds and taught until he realized he could quit. Sorry, kids.
After moving to deep mountain country, he began working with animals of all sorts, teaching goats, for example, such civilities as drinking wine from a ceramic bowl while reading the day-old newspaper delivered by the mailman. The critters took right to the drinking but ate the newspaper.
Later he had a short career as a photographer and a longer one on the front lines of writing repair, turning the butchered prose of professors, nuclear engineers, and computer programmers into something readable before everyone quit and went home, online, or both. Certain familial hurricanes drove him back East again, and while his heart (like T. Bennett’s) remains out West, the rest of him now resides in a glorious 19th-century hovel that slants awkwardly in multiple directions in its slow slide into the war memorial in his front yard, honoring those who made and kept his hovel free. Having now been found and dragged into the Book of Face, he remains in hiding from the Twittersphere.