Creativity – Page 2

what I am is what I am

First of all, I’m a delight.
Second…
“Philosophy is the talk on a cereal box
Religion is the smile on a dog
I’m not aware of too many things
I know what I know, if you know what I mean”
– What I am, Edie Brickell & New Bohemians

This month, August 2025, I set out on a grand adventure – returning to the work I hold dear to my soul. Five contractor’s bags of trash, four carloads of donations, three shelves of books cleared, two stacks of totes, and a partridge in a pear tree later…this is what I have. (see pic below)

photo of a desk in a corner office with knick knacks

By the way, the gentlemen peering over my tripod is Thomas Merton, and he keeps watch over things. After Hildegard of Bingen and Joan of Arc, who are both also represented on my desk, Merton is my go to for finding calm in the world.

While I’m not particularly devoted to one particular faith system, the mystical aspects of my Catholic upbringing is this luminous thread that brings the tapestry of my beliefs together. In fact, I start my day with this prayer. Feel free to change the wording to suit your needs.

“My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road though I may know nothing about it. Therefore I will trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.”
- Thomas Merton, Thoughts in Solitude

Author standing with a statue of Thomas Merton

Why, yes…that is Thomas Merton and I out standing in a field. It appears he’s been standing there a little longer than me, which has given him a nice patina.

So let me get back to my original thought when I say down to write…

Over the past 18 days I’ve learned that none of us are in Kansas anymore. Not that we ever were, but the expression fits. SEO, niche, content management, and other words that sound a lot like Charlie Brown’s teacher. Is everyone literally trying to sell themselves with every post/image/video? I mean, is this fun for you? When you sit down to create something are you thinking, “Oh, yeah, this is gonna boost my stats on (insert platform here)…yeah, this is S(E)O-OOOOO good.”

Maybe it was a little naive of me to think that I could just skip back into the creative world with my Pollyanna mindset, stories about being human, and a real desire for connection.

Oh, gods…does this mean I’m not cool anymore? Are the artificial stats trying to tell me something I don’t want to hear? Should I just go lay down in the yard, right now, and shake my fists at the clouds? Do you think people will know what I’m saying if I don’t keep to my most searched work?

Won’t someone think of the niche?

Okay…okay…that’s a little much, I know – but then again, so am I…and so are you. We – that’s you, me, and all the other humans out there – contain multitudes. And in that beautiful dance within us is a light that connects us to each other.

The everything in me sees the everything in you.

So I’m working on Part 4 of the painting story. I’ve got to write it without putting in any trigger words because the internet will get mad at me – which is proving to be very difficult. Plus, the editing team took the day off. The cats are napping, and the fairies just had some chocolate.

With that…I’m off.

Good day to all y’all,
~ KEU

If you find value in what I write, and want to support the team (aka the cats and fairies), please check out my ko-fi. Thanks!

Currently listening to: The Tales of KE Upton (Spotify playlist that has 22 hours of what I call “brain tunes”)
Currently reading: *taking a reading break for a few days

cult of personality (part 3)

First of all, I am a delight. Second, “I’m every person you need to be…”

watercolor painting with hooves on a hill and part of a tree

“Words do not express thoughts very well. They always become a little different immediately after they are expressed, a little distorted, a little foolish.”
― Hermann Hesse

As you can see in the photo, there are some hooves standing on what appears to be a knoll – or a mound, if you will. The design and colors give the impression that it is covered in grass, or some type of herbaceous goodness enjoyed by ruminates. The next part/installment about this painting will show the whole piece. After a little bit of research I learned that the artist’s name is often picked up by Al’s Gorithms, which solves a few mysteries, but also makes it difficult to share too much info with y’all if I plan to keep my content up and running.

Part 2 stopped with my dear husband mentioning how the artist has a connection to certain historical events in the United States (1960s). For many the answers provided didn’t match up, so groups were formed to study all the particulars. As I’ve mentioned previously, my words are very vague due to past experiences with sharing this story. While no one in my family is particularly dedicated to spending our life going down rabbit holes, talking about them can be tricky these days.

Him: “If you start seeing things in your feed about (the event), you will know why.”
Me: “Okay, but how weird can it get from just a simple painting?”

Here’s your answer – it got kinda weird…but in a good way. I’ll get to all those parts in future writings, but for now let’s travel back in time to the last century – in particular 1996.

Before moving to the area where I met my husband, my life was a little bit eclectic. On the door of my apartment was a sign that said: “If you are not all the way there, then you are halfway here.” Haunting coffee shops, learning from the elders at health food stores, and skulking around used book/music stores was the marrow of my life. At the same time I was trying out a new degree program (English Literature/Secondary Education) – maybe the 3rd or 4th one at this point, while tiptoeing into comparative religions/religious studies.

However, what’s important to know, is that I was enjoying the fruits of learning how to be a Wiccan Shaman Druid (hyperlinked for your enjoyment) with a group of folks who were doing the same. We would read Edgar Cayce like Shakespeare and talk about soul families. Nothing like being in your 20s, ‘eh? My closet had a mix of items similar to Daria and Stevie Nicks, with a jarring lack of color. My shelves were full of tomes on metaphysics, dreams, quantum physics, and grand writers of old. Pretty much I just shined my weird light for other weird people to find. And by “weird,” it was more like wyrd – but also cool, maybe?

Here’s something you should also know…I was also enamored with unicorns.

Imagine my surprise when I saw the painting on his wall the first time visiting his apartment. Like a magical beacon, a most signier sign, was a beautiful unicorn standing on a grassy knoll with a blood red Sun in the sky. It was kismet…and we were married just 3 months later.

Him: “You really need to look up this artist, and give me your feeling on everything.”
Me: “I mean, if it’s going to help sell it, then I’ll dig in. Lemme get some photos of it and see if anything comes back.”

Narrator voice: “In fact, something did come back.”

The internet is a great place to search for things you don’t want to know. AI was just starting to get interesting, so I uploaded the photo with this question: “Could you take a deep look into the symbolism knowing about (artist’s) highly contested connection with (historical figure)?”

My hopes were not very high for a decent reply, but you know…sometimes the Universe conspires to shower you with blessings. Along with that I knew the high error rates of AI at the time, so my expectations were pretty low.

This was one of the replies given:
“The Unattainable Truth and a Quest: The pursuit of the unicorn in traditional folklore often signifies a quest for something rare, elusive, or highly valuable. This resonates with (artist’s name) ongoing efforts to uncover what (this person) believes is the complete truth about the (historical event) and to achieve justice for (person of note), a truth that (this person) perceives as deliberately hidden and suppressed. The unicorn could symbolize this elusive truth, the ultimate prize in (their) lifelong quest.”

Uh….

That just fired my brain up in ways that are hard to explain without doing an interpretive dance, using lots of charts, or both. In a very weird coincidence, I was facing a similar, although far less conspiratorial, quest of my own. While my life was vastly different than the one this artist has, in my heart that desire to find answers was just as strong. And – which is a very big and – this artist faced their fears to share their story. If they could do it, then so could I…

But isn’t that what art does? It’s a testament to the creator’s personal journey, a way to express something that had a profound impact in their life. The symbolism – rising from fear, finding a voice, searching for an unattainable thing – is not just about this artist; it’s a reflection of the human struggle.

Using visual storytelling to find meaning and connection, the painting takes on something bigger than any of us can understand. It’s no longer about the name of the artist, the price tag, or the controversies, but how creativity moves us. It creates a reflection of our own lives, a knowing that we are not alone in world. Sort of like, “Oh, hey, that person understands,” giving you a feeling of being truly seen…validating that your presence here has meaning.

It also shows me that in the age of digital publishing we have an impact even if only a few read what we write, view what we create, or listen to our stories. While we dream of going viral, or getting rich from our work, I think what we truly desire is to be exactly who we are — and to have that inspire others to do the same.

Much love,
~ KEU

This post was written with the help of friendly cats and typo fairies. Please excuse all grammar errors as flights of fancy. If you would like to help appease my editors, you can drop a few coins into my coffee jar. As previously mentioned, quite often, I’m coming back to this creative life after a long period away. If you’ve read this far, know that your time is greatly appreciated.

Currently listening to: The Tales of KE Upton (Spotify playlist)
Currently reading: A Wrinkle in Time by Madeline L’Engle

eff the niche

Everything I’m about to tell you is true.

First, I am a delight.
Second, I am large, I contain multitudes.

A black and white photograph of a woman wearing horns staring over a river at a pair of bridge.

What I’m about to say is not a “hook,” nor is it something to leverage my SEO. Honestly, I know very little about all those things, and find them quite frustrating in my return to the online world. Please note that I also do not want to learn about these things, because adding in a bunch of hidden codewords so the algorithms can find my work is the exact opposite of what I’m doing here.

Also, I’ve niched myself into oblivion before. It sucks, and trying to show people other sides of who you are isn’t easy.

Them: “Oh, so you’re not a square, then…”
Me: “Well, I’m a cube…which could be seen as a square. But in reality there are many dimensions to who I am.”
Them: “So you’re not a square?”
Me: “Yes, I am not a square.”
Them: “Okay, just don’t try to be a cube anymore, as that just confuses everyone.”
Me: “…”

Back in the early 2000s there was this idyllic little spot on the web called LiveJournal. In my eyes it was the early inklings of long-form social media, and a place that welcomed both big and small names. We became invested in the lives we followed, offering support and understanding to folks we hadn’t met in the “real world.”

During my time there I absolutely contained multitudes. No one batted an eye at the fact that there were 20 different hats in the “Who is Kim” part of my personality closet. Being an absent minded Buddhist herbalist tarot reader, living mostly off grid on a small plot of land, while trying to subvert the dominant paradigm was de rigueur. Not only that you could be a zine writing feminist artist that was skeptical of the system while also enjoying Taco Bell on occasion. You could just be real, and other people would be real with you.

Very slowly, then all of a sudden, a ripple went through the site and folks starting drawing lines in the wires – sort of like the scene from Monty Python’s Life Of Brian where the characters are discussing the People’s Front of Judea. You were either with the people, against the people, or one of those horrid fence sitters that could see both sides of the story. Guess where I was?

If you guessed the last group, you win a gold star. While I didn’t sing the let’s all get along song, it was my greatest hope that everyone would see what was going on, life would get back to normal, and we could continue being in this online Utopia. That was not how the route was going until an unlikely pair of enemies appeared – The Facebook and a Russian company buying SixApart/LiveJournal. Finally, we could all go back to love, acceptance, and being multifaceted, right? Right?!?!? Because, you know, we were not united in our displeasure of the road ahead…

That was about two decades ago, and here we are together in the dance of the doom scroll. We want content creators to do one thing and one thing only. As someone that really rocks out to things being the same, I understand that feeling, but also…humans aren’t robots.

For some time I tried to tell my stories on TikTok using the hashtag efftheniche. The comments I received were less than kind, and I often found my posts under review. To keep a system running there cannot be a disruption in the process. If you don’t fit into a category, you get lumped in with all the other misfit toys. This gives you a big penalty online, and in some secret language the platforms talk to each other about how you won’t conform. While they are chatting, they also suggest advertising based on your search history or the search history of anyone near you.

All of that just made me sad…and cranky. The thought of making a repeating post that said, “You niche-heads get off my digital lawn” crossed my mind daily. In some very odd act of rebellion I decided that I would show them…I’d stop giving them my content to use. Not only that, let me just stop doing all the things that I love because the algorithm doesn’t like me or my work. And while I’m at it, let me just kick it up a notch by metaphorically gluing my feet to the floor so that all those big feelings stayed with me every day. Just a full on laugh riot every minute…me and my “you can’t make me” temper tantrum.

The honest truth here is that I’m not back in this part of my work so the bots can turn me into a viral creator. This is for my kids and family. It’s for all the times they’ve told me to write my stories, take my photos, or tell my tales. This is a way to show them that our finite time on this planet should be spent living fully, and with the audacious authenticity of a dandelion growing between the cracks in the sidewalk. It’s also for all the people who have been told to dull their shine, or to stop being too much.

Or, as Walk Whitman says in his poem, “Song of Myself, 51”:

“The past and present wilt - I have fill’d them, emptied them.
And proceed to fill my next fold of the future.
Listener up there! what have you to confide to me?
Look in my face while I snuff the sidle of evening,
(Talk honestly, no one else hears you, and I stay only a minute longer.)
Do I contradict myself?
Very well then I contradict myself,
(I am large, I contain multitudes.)
I concentrate toward them that are nigh, I wait on the door-slab.
Who has done his day’s work? who will soonest be through with his supper?
Who wishes to walk with me?
Will you speak before I am gone? will you prove already too late?”

So, eff the niche. Be notorious. Shine brightly. Life is too short for mediocrity.

Oh, the typo fairies had vanilla bean ice cream, which means this post should be mostly typo free…

Until next time – much love and tons of support to all y’all,
~ KEU

resurrection

Photo displays a statue of a woman with the words "Let there be light" written in English and Hebrew.

“How can you rise, if you have not burned”
― Hiba Fatima Ahmad

First of all, I’m a delight…

Not sure how many times I’ve sat in front of this big empty space sharing the finer details from the inner machinations of my mind, or all the ramblings about how things will be “from now on.” Also, if there was a record for transformational life experiences, I’m pretty sure I’d at least be in the top 3% of people who have walked through fires they never imagined facing.

That’s not a humble brag, nor is it one of those, “Look at me over here doing better at life when it ties my shoes together,” but more like a realization that God must be tired of trying to get my attention.

Over the past two weeks I’ve:
– filled 3 giant trash cans with things that should have been tossed long ago.
– taken two car loads of items to be donated (filling 7 carts)
– shredded old after visit summaries
– tossed genealogy research that wasn’t going anywhere
– taken a fearless moral inventory of my life
– donated 2 boxes of books
– faced my biggest fear(s)
– made a realistic set of goals
– been consistent in my daily routines
– stopped seeking approval
– become notorious
– danced barefoot in wet grass

A not-so-secret thing about is me that I’ve been a huge scaredy-cat for most of my life. Without waxing poetic, let me just say that having that shadow hang over me hasn’t done me one iota of good — especially when many of the things I worried about turned out okay in the end.

Recently the Universe decided it was ready for me to stop waffling, get my life in line, and start shining brightly. While it was just easier for me to say, “Oh, that can happen tomorrow,” thinking that was becoming a 400 ton boulder around my waist. You know, just me and this rock walking around in life trying to make folks think living this way is normal.

Them: “Hey, what’s that huge thing behind you?”
Me: “Oh, this – it’s nothing important. I’m just doing some weight training.”
My brain: “Flee you fool, they will see that it’s actually the crushing weight of things that don’t need to be worried about…ever.”
My soul: “What she’s not telling you is that she’s had big dreams for such a long time, that she’d convinced herself were impossible, so now this rock is an egregore of all the growth she’s overlooked.”
My body: “Girl, I’ve sent you kidney stones, GI problems, falling down, shingles, lower back pain, and I’m about to send you some stress related muscle issues if you don’t untie that thing from your waist.”
God/The Universe/Insert your personal belief system here: “Hold my wine…”

Something changes within you after standing up for those you love. There’s this wild-eyed freedom that you experience after walking away from a meeting with someone trying to be your adversary. Instead of self recriminations or wondering why nothing seems to go your way, while being drenched in a cortisol sweat that would rival Niagara Falls, you just keep calm and carry on. It’s the most weirdly liberating feeling in the whole world.

And then all of a sudden, but very slowly at first, you find yourself standing back in the land of your life’s dreams. Things that seemed out of reach fall into your lap, and you speak even though your voice is shaking.

For the last week of July/first few days of August, my goal was to post my creative pieces for 3 days in a row. Didn’t matter what platform, or if anyone saw it, because it’s for my own dang self. It’s like taking old muscle memories and putting them to better use. The next phase of this whole Phoenix Phase is to write something here every day. It doesn’t have to be perfect, and I won’t be looking at my stats. Because, really, life is too short of worrying what others have to say about who you are.

With that, dear readers, please feel free to hold me accountable. Nobody is above having a little nudge from time to time.

Thank you for being here, and for walking alongside me. I love each and every one of you with all my being.
~ KEU

Hello, it’s me…

First of all, I’m a delight. Second, I don’t do niche content due to my love of both dillying and dallying. Thirdly, all grammar errors/typos are purely intentional due to the myriad typo faeries living in my laptop. Now that you know this, please carry on reading.

Everything I’m about to tell you is true.

It’s my birthday week. This happens every year in my birthday month – shocking, I know, but that’s just how life is sometimes.

One thing you should know about me is that I am a prayerful person. Not the dry and dusty prayers for the big three (money, love, health), but the kind that get down into the marrow of my being in a way that makes me believe that grace still exists in the world. Sometimes when I’m feeling a bit cheeky, or just want to experience a bit of delight, I’ll pose a question to the Universe that sounds a little like this: “Oh for the love of all things, can we please stop walking in circles?!?!?!” Other times my prayers sound like whining, proclaiming the doom, despair, and agony on me (“if it weren’t for bad luck, I’d have no luck at all…”). Then there’s the happy medium that is full of gratitude for all that life has share with me.

So, yeah, now you know one of my biggest life secrets — I talk to something greater than any of us can understand. While scholars and spiritual folks duke it out online over what I’m about to say, their squabbles are not mine to monitor. The beauty of being human is seen in the wisdom of Old Turtle that reminds us that we are all loved (hat tip to Douglas Wood). With that…here goes…brace yourself for the wildness of what I’m about to say. Heck, you might want to warm up your gasping breath before reading the next few words.

Everything I’ve ever prayed for, or about, has been answered.

Let me say that again…all the things that I’ve prayed about have been answered. Not before you come at me with all your ideologies, finger pointing, and what not, just hear me out.

Prayer is not something I do to broadcast my thoughts to the world, or to seek favor for my own benefit – it is a way for me to connect with the world around me as a reminder that not everything is about me. It is how I send love into the world/cosmos, find peace with things I cannot change, and hold space for those in pain. Never once have I asked for a new car, or to win the lottery, or for those who don’t like me to look in the mirror. Mostly it is this stream of consciousness that sounds a bit like when children talk to their imaginary friends about tea parties and unicorns.

You see…in my short time on this planet I’ve had experiences that defy understanding. Stuff that took years of my life, and more stuff that required decades of research. Like the main character in The Alchemist, I’ve done just about everything (except for what was in front of me) to get answers to my soul’s questions. When you allow yourself to get all that clutter from your noggin, you see that the answers have been with you all along.

For longer than I’d like to admit, I’ve been one of my harshest critics. Right alongside that, I’ve allowed others to rain on my parade. Yep, you read that correctly, with my permission I willingly gave my power over to folks who took advantage of the places where I was broken. Think of it this way — many of us will choose a familiar negative over a potential positive. It’s kind of like we Stockholm Syndrome ourselves into thinking we are better off being in the mire over trying to find someplace less mucky. Because, you know, there might be bears, or aliens, or mean people in our comment section.

There are folks in my life that love me more than I can even describe here in this space. In fact I’m lucky enough to have a whole family (spouse and kiddos), as well as mentors and friends, that have supported me no matter what. Through every up, down, and all around these humans have reminded me that one does not need to give all their light away in order to be loved.

So, this prayer stuff – lemme get my story wrapped up here so you can go about your day. Lately my prayers have been about healing the parts of me that keep me from fully loving every one and everything (oh, just so you know, my boundary skills have become powerfully strong), as well as how to navigate living with a wee bit of anxiety. While I don’t ever expect answers, they always show up. This week was no exception with the arrival of a quite hilarious, but very spot on, spam email. Not only did it say I was loved, but that the image of the image is more than the image. The words gave me some very sage advice of: “I will show you how to make a picture of you. If you don’t want to go out, you don’t want to go out. If you want to write a book, write a book, or write a book, or write a book. If you want to be a part of the world, you will be able to do it in a new way.”

** side note here: when I say “wee bit,” in reality that means soul-crushing worries fostered by PTSD (which you will learn more about in the future) and 53 years worth of stories trying to break free all at once. Also, thank goodness that my prayers of not wanting to go out were confirmed, as well as whether or not I should be writing/creating. Or, maybe, write a book…

So, yeah, that’s where I am these days. Kinda done with things that weren’t working in the first place, or trying to fit into places that require you to leave your authenticity back at home. Plus, I think maybe it’s time to stop looking outside…and starting listening to what is within.

That’s all I got for today, y’all. Lots of love, big hugs, and know that I see you shining brightly as the Sun.
~ KEU