Anthony grew up on Long Island, New York, pointing his mom's iPhone at trees, flowers, anything the afternoon sun made look different. He was ten or eleven.
In 2014 his father's job moved the family to Ohio. Adjusting taught him plenty, but the camera never stopped feeling like his.
He studied finance at Ohio State and found a second home at FinMango.org, a nonprofit building economic resilience in communities here and abroad.
Photography stayed constant through all of it. Putting a frame around a moment is still the clearest way he knows to say something mattered.
The name comes from his family. "A la famiglia" was what they said before sitting down to eat. The spelling drifted from the proper Italian and stuck. That instinct now has a home outside his hard drive.
At eighteen, Bridgette left home and toured the U.S. with the circus. It was an early education in improvisation, in building something out of very little, in trusting instinct over a plan.
She later opened Void, a progressive coffee shop in Elk City, West Virginia. Small towns don't always get spaces built for the unconventional. She built one anyway.
Her art moves the same way. Working through automatic drawing, she lets intuition lead before intention catches up, producing surrealist charcoal drawings and paintings that pull technology's irony and progression into the frame.
She studied at CU Denver's College of Architecture and Planning, adding formal structure to instincts she'd already been running on for years.
That same pull between intuition and discipline shapes ab0614's visual identity today, and it's exactly why she's the one building it.
Anthony sets the course. What gets made, who it's for, and why it matters enough to make.
Bridgette gives it form. How it looks, how it's built, and how it holds together once it's real.
The name the work goes out under, credited to no one alone.