21 days

First of all, I’m a delight. Second, “This is what you want, this is what you get.” – PIL

“The most difficult thing is the decision to act, the rest is merely tenacity. The fears are paper tigers. You can do anything you decide to do. You can act to change and control your life; and the procedure, the process is its own reward.”
― Amelia Earhart

There’s something very important I need to tell all y’all. Maybe it’s something you wanna read, or not – none of us knows how to feel when someone we barely know wants to share a vulnerable part of themselves.

First you get this feeling of having to decide. Is what this person is about to say gonna mess with your deeply seated beliefs, or will it be a moment of solidarity? Then there’s the training we’ve all received about what “real” “authenticity” looks like online. “Oh, this is just for the likes,” comes way too quickly to our frontal lobes when viewing media on our phones. It’s an emotional commitment to continue engaging after someone decides to share details about their life. After all, we are just human…

I have been terrified for the past 21 days during this time of consistent posting. Honestly, I have no idea what I’m doing…and I don’t really care to know. This is me finding my way back “home” after being really lost for 10 years. The Indigo Girls barely scratch the surface with the lyrics of going up mountains, and talking to “…Doctors of Philosophy.” You see I went to a lot more places, tried a lot more things, and learned way more than imagined about the nature of humanity. Some of these experiences were out of my control, with others being entirely my doing. As the cool kids say… No. Stone. Was. Left. Unturned.

Trust was an issue, as were boundaries. Doubt was a thing with teeth, waiting to remind me how weird I am. Honestly it felt like there were multiple timelines happening at once – this sort of weird quantum dance of uncertainty.

Nevertheless…I persisted. (pretty dramatic, ‘eh?)

It all could have been a mid-life crisis, or the thing that older women deal with that none of us are allowed to talk about. Compound that with the general state of life on Earth and a growing need for a mystical connection to my creativity, which created this sort of overwhelmingly self-absorbed need to finally figure out my path in life.

So, on August 1st of this year (2025), I decided to start posting on different platforms. Some of them I’ve never heard of, but the competing sites I joined had plenty of articles/posts on why my presence on the competitor’s site was a personal affront to all things good in the world. Perfect, sign me up – let me see what’s really going on here.

My report, so far, is that all the sites are driven to make money for themselves. Makes sense because it’s a business, and as a previous business owner, I, too, wanted to make money. At least 20% of the people that follow me are bots making AI, or humans pretending to be bots making AI. Another 20% just repost popular posts to get people to like the reposted post they posted. The 20% after that appear to be scammers. Either that or there really are a lot of doctors from other countries trying to come to a place where the wellness system is in a hot mess. That means around 60% of the people that follow me aren’t exactly who they claim to be.

Mixed in the remaining 40% are folks who are: 1) just trying to make it in this world; 2) a friend from high school that wants you to book a party from them; 3) a content creator; 4) trying to find sanctuary. Oh…but there’s this secret 5th thing…there is this beautiful oasis of actual people. You see their little kitchen, the piles of unfolded laundry on the couch, and hear real emotion in their voice.

Seeing those folks shine brightly like the Sun helped me be less insecure. They helped me see that we are all lost, and that we are all just trying to walk each other home. (hat tip to Ram Dass for that great line). None of us really know what we are doing, which is absolutely okay. The best you can do is just be kind. Love all, serve all. (another hat tip to Ram Dass) But most importantly, just be yourself. You know, shine that weird light so other weirdos can find you.

What started as a complicated journey of self-discovery ended as a revelation in being okay with who I am. This has been a huge lesson in courage. I’ve learned that the most powerful thing we can do in a world of algorithms and facades is to simply be ourselves. It is in our chaos, our doubts, and our quiet moments of humanity that we find a real connection.

But most importantly, our stories are important, and we should tell them. We are more than data, we are living entities taking the biggest trip ever. Our creativity is more than a niche – it contains multitudes.

Much love,
~ KEU

If you find value in my work, please consider dropping a few coins in my ko-fi cup. Thank you!

Currently listening to: The Tales of KE Upton (Spotify – you can click the link to see the songs, but are not required to listen)
Currently reading: Be Here Now by Ram Dass

we are more than drops in the ocean (part 4)

First of all, I’m a delight. Second, “You are not a drop in the ocean. You are the entire ocean in a drop.” ― Rumi

photo of Lake Michigan from the Chicago side.

Not the ocean, but a beautiful image of Lake Michigan from the Chicago side. Further down I’ll post a full image of the painting – please feel free to scroll on down, get a screen capture, and look it up. Interestingly it will somehow loop back to: 1) this post or 2) random archived places where I’ve discussed the painting previously. Welcome to the digital spiral that is the internet.

Today I was chatting with my editing team about how one stays authentic to their creative self while also trying to keep one’s toes in the water of content creation. And, yes, I talk about this quite a bit because I’m really trying to understand this shift to “fast food” artistry that is happening on various platforms. There are a few places that will penalize you for having a post/video that is longer than 7 minutes. However, it’s their server space and rules, so we all must march to the beat of their drum.

Or not.

Just say no to the niche. You are not just a drop in the ocean, as Rumi says, but the entire ocean in one drop. Life contains multitudes. You don’t have to be a “niche” creator. Instead, you can be a hub for all your different interests. Your photography, writing, and videos all come from the same person—you.

This can be a more sustainable and fulfilling path than trying to fit yourself into a box that doesn’t feel right. It allows you to create from a place of genuine passion, and it invites people into a conversation, not just a transaction. And that is what this painting means to me. Not the story of the artist, nor her particular beliefs about parts of history – it’s that she DARED to be herself in a culture that actively pushes us to be otherwise.

Just for the record, this is NOT my artwork. I do not own the rights to this and am only sharing it as part of the story about how it came to be in my family’s possession. Also, I cannot share the name of the artist because the internet has eyes. While some can talk about things that are outlandishly unbelievable and gather millions of followers…talking calmly about how a piece of art inspired me to come back to what I love, sharing my creative self, upsets Al’s Gorithms.

watercolor painting of a unicorn standing on a hill between two trees

Here it is, y’all. Here’s the painting in all its glory. And here’s an image that shows you how it ties to history.

unicorn painting with a magazine called photoplay

Side note, I donated this magazine, and no longer own it. Back copies can be find online.

As I’ve said previously, could my family and I be making this bigger than it is? Yes, absolutely and without question…yes. It’s just, and I’m not sure how to even say this in a different way, there’s just something about all of it that creates intrigues in the brain. Even more after the ruckus it caused online.

In the digital world there’s this push for algorithmic success versus the messiness of human creativity. The prevalence of AI-generated content and bot monitoring is designed to have us churn out work that makes the platform happy. As someone that was in tech years ago (think back in the dinosaur days of dial-up via rotary phones), I fully understand the huge cost of data, servers, and the sheer amount of memory it takes to hold all this. We have to become efficient, but that lacks the unique, sometimes illogical, and deeply personal qualities that make humans and humanity so compelling. The rambling, the detours, and the wild punctuation (as in my case), are all part of our authentic voice, signaling to the reader/viewer that a real, thinking person is at the helm.

And this is the paradox: in a world that craves efficiency, the most valuable creative work might be the messiest. True connection isn’t always instant, but we are pushed to immediately decide if someone is in our camp. Real human interaction isn’t like that, it’s built through vulnerability, shared experiences, and the raw authenticity of trying to get by in the world. To truly connect, we need to slow down and engage with the nuances of what the creative person is sharing with us.

This painting is a reminder that the real treasure isn’t in a viral hashtag, or rising to the top of your niche content, it’s in the shared experience of being human. We make mistakes, and we try hard to understand our environment. Art and creativity, in all forms, gives us a brief moment to connect with something bigger than we can understand. We can tell a story about our world, as I’ve said previously, to help others see that they are not alone.

You might have a ton of thoughts right now, but if I may suggest something, let this be one that sticks with you: just say no to the niche. Be multitudinously notorious. Live in the place where your insecurities dwell. Contradict yourself. If you need someone to stand with you, just let me know — I’ll be there with bells on.

Much love,
~ KEU

Currently listening to: The Tales of KE Upton (Spotify playlist – am working on getting it on YouTube as well)
Currently reading: pondering what to read next…stay tuned

i can make you dance

First of all I’m a delight. Second, “If I be waspish, best beware my sting.”
― William Shakespeare

image of a notice that there is a water main break
Screenshot

“I’m in the mood for a melody
I’m in the mood for a melody
I’m in the mood
I’m in the mood for a melody
I’m in the mood for a melody
I’m in the mood
I’m in the mood for a melody
I’m in the mood for a melody
I’m in the mood”
In the Mood, Robert Plant

wasp on roil of paper towels

Lemme warn y’all – my left hand is feeling some kind of way due to a rather unpleasant wasp sting. While I’d love to run it under some cold water, get it cleaned up, and all that nice stuff, my wee little burg is dealing with a substantial water main break. Thankfully I’m prepared for such things, but none of this was written on my “to do” list for today.

“Survival is the ability to swim in strange water.”
― Frank Herbert, Dune

With that, I’m off to take care of some things, so the continuing saga of the painting will need to wait yet another day.

Bzzz bzzz,
~KEU

no cars go/can’t buy happiness

First of all, I’m a delight. Second, I’m between the click of the light and the start of the dream.

Image of a woman standing among religious icons and craft supplies.

Apparently when you post selfies it raises your engagement. Here’s an old photo of me before getting rid of 90% of the items seen behind me.

“Everything is the way it is because we’ve all agreed that’s the way it is.”
― Charles de Lint, The Onion Girl

I’m no stranger to controversy.

image of a newspaper with an article about an independent magazine called the underground

Picture it - the year was 1992 - we were in a place of geopolitical instability (as it seemingly always has been) and I had a dream. After seeing a few local “alternative” papers in cities near Western Kentucky University, it seemed like a great idea to start my own. I mean…it really was a good idea, but also not well planned. There were only 3 issues of The Underground, but during its time in print there was kick back from a local politician, who was running for some kind of office. Apparently he didn’t appreciate the candid editorial about his platform. This prompted a very strongly worded letter from him with legal words that he seemed pretty confidant using. Sadly he didn’t know that my Dad was a top-notch attorney specializing in various aspects of law, so my letter back had only three sentences: “Thank you for your interest in The Underground. I am sad to say that nothing written in the issue you reference is slander, but would actually be libel. The piece is permissible under the laws of the U.S. Constitution.”

The years came and went; planets rotated in the cosmos. It was 2003 and the world was dealing with geopolitical instability (wait - is this a pattern?), and a rise in populism and/or nationalism (is there nothing new under the Sun?).
* side note - my delicious use of wild punctuation should prove to you that nothing I write is done by AI.

Legit question here - do y’all think any lessons were learned when I decided to start up some zines? As you can see, the title of the one on the right has been blocked out. Why? Well, because the internet has eyes. If you get nothing from what I write/share/etc., please understand this: your digital footprint is everywhere.

Yet again there was pushback from the words and images I shared. You see, I am no stranger to controversy…and everything I write about is true.

As expected, which now that I think about it…maybe my soul manifested it to happen, the posts I wrote about the painting were throttled on specific platforms that shall not be named. Another tidbit of info for you, especially if you are trying to corner the market on your work, is that sites will “censor” your work if you mention any of their competitors. Ask me how I know.


“We are all stories in the end, just make it a good one eh?”
― From the series Doctor Who (Matt Smith)

Honestly, y’all, I’m just out here trying to get my groove back. Things I write aren’t always dished out with a side of crankiness about things that don’t seem to be changing anytime soon. Marketing folks love a good niche, and they pay companies to promote their wares/goods/service that tailor to a specific demographic. Its just…I worry that we are all going to become one-sided automatons allowing the system to homogenize creativity. I’ve been this way since forever, which led me to my first declared major in college - journalism (which I took way too seriously). By the second week of class I was ready to write my first expose, but we were stuck learning how to write obits instead. When the next week rolled around, we got the, “If it bleeds it leads” talk, which made me extremely frustrated at whatever “journalism” this guy was teaching.

College was not living up to my expectations, which at 18 was a very precocious thing to think…I mean…it’s literally just another cog in the wheel of adulthood.

But I digress…

When the time came to work on our first article, the professor gave a lecture on how our writing should sound like PR. WHAT?!?!?! Journalism students needed to know about Public Relations? Why was this person telling me such things? The horror didn’t stop there, as he continued with statements like, “You will be making politicians look good,” and “Your work has to sell the paper.”

So here I am, many years later, realizing how much truth that professor spoke. However, which is a word I’m fond of that also proves, yet again, that a real human is at the helm, I’ve never really been interested in taking the safe road. My life is a testament to those who have brains that ramble, hands that create, and spirits that dance in the liminal spaces. Maybe I’ll never get a 27 figure book deal, or a prestigious award for my writing — but what will happen is that my life will never be boring.

There are just far too many stories to tell; way too many moments to capture.

I’m currently working on the next installment on the painting. Trying to fit several months of time into a few paragraphs is proving to be a little more difficult than anticipated. Plus, the typo fairies are low on cream and chocolate, which means they have sent the cats to help with my editing. Never a dull moment in my life…

Much love,
~ KEU

Currently listening to: The Tales of KB (my ever-changing writing playlist on Spotify
Currently reading: A Wrinkle in Time by Madeline L’Engle

can you afford to be an individual

First of all, I am a delight. Second, “Art enables us to find ourselves and lose ourselves at the same time.” ― Thomas Merton , No Man Is an Island

crow standing in a field with sunbeams

“To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment.”
― Ralph Waldo Emerson

On August 1st of this year (2025) a great removal started. 23 years of journals, art supplies, clothing, books, knick knacks, and the weight of other people’s opinions.

Something happens when you strip away all the things you thought you should be. Or, rather…all the things you thought would help people understand how you navigate the world. You see there’s a high cost to being authentic. Not the sound bite bull caca online, but the wild-eyed dance of knowing you’ve shenan’ed once…and will absolutely shenan again. It’s more like the gift/curse that comes with seeing everything in shades of grey – the neither/nor liminal walk into the unknown that we call being human.

In order to see what’s going on within yourself, you gotta step away from what I call non-conforming conformists. These are the folks that aren’t like anyone else except each other. You see this often in the repetition of viral posts/videos, where if it works for those folks it will work for you, too. Sometimes it does, but mostly it just puts you in a club of cool kids that enjoy the fruits of being popular. Honestly, I get it – there’s safety in numbers. We are hard wired for community, so it makes sense that we look for spaces to fit into with copycat behaviors.

This is what I was going for in yesterday’s post, until one of the cats decided that it needed some more work.

Sociology has been a great love of mine, but I never took it to the academic level – meaning it wasn’t one of my many possible degree programs in college. Where I finally landed was secondary education, English literature, and comparative religions/religious studies. Side note for ya – my credit hours would give me a doctorate level degree, but I decided to get married and have babies. Or, rather, the Universe decided that for me. By age 27 I’d taken my GPA from a 0.4 to a 4.0 – got the Golden Key stuff and even got an invitation to apply for a Rhodes Scholarship – but as we all know…life had other plans. *(Sadly I didn’t meet all the requirements to fill out the application, but it was nice to be considered.) Oh, and I’m short 12 credit hours from having my undergrad. If being a professional student was an actual thing, I’d be applying right now.

car full of items to be donate with a blow mold of mother Mary with child

Bewilderment
There are many guises for intelligence.
One part of you is gliding in a high windstream,
while your more ordinary notions
take little steps and peck at the ground.

Conventional knowledge is death to our souls,
and it is not really ours. It is laid on.
Yet we keep saying we find “rest” in these “beliefs.”

We must become ignorant of what we have been taught
and be instead bewildered.

Run from what is profitable and comfortable.
Distrust anyone who praises you.
Give your investment money, and the interest
on the capital, to those who are actually destitute.

Forget safety. Live where you fear to live.
Destroy your reputation. Be notorious.
I have tried prudent planning long enough.

From now on, I’ll be mad.
Rumi

After years of walking around on social media (specifically the one with the big blue F), I started losing my ability to stand upright in my own skin. It happens to the best and strongest of us – so if you’re going through it just know that you’re not alone. It’s tough out there to be who you are.

Thing is, some folks are just born with a different set of colors in their palette. Sometimes it looks like a genetic health issue, bad parenting, socio-economic conditions, or a secret unknown thing. Heck, it could be all of the above, which is like winning the weirdo lottery where all the niches you could fill don’t have a place for you due to that “unknown” aura circling above your head.

One of the reasons I write, create, and generally engage in living life to the fullest, is to show others that it’s safe to be who they are – or who they want to be. While searching for someone to help me understand all the things, very few stepped up, so I learned how to do it myself. *(side note: this also happens for folks who grew up poor, learning how to survive and fix all the things on their own.)

And not just a few things, but literally all the things. When you do that, guess what you start to acquire? If you said 3 car loads worth of stuff, that would be the correct answer.

This is day 13, the luckiest one, of standing exactly where I want to be. As I’ve written previously, it’s a rebirth of sorts – or maybe something akin to what a Phoenix experiences. It’s a little scary, and it takes a lot of energy to walk the talk. My plan is to document all of this through words, images, and videos (yes, videos, please don’t come at me). The end result (fingers crossed) will be a nicely edited book. Heck, let’s just say the sky is the limit here and go for a movie deal.

Because, dear readers…everything I’m about to tell you is true.

Much love,
~ KEU

Currently listening to: A Perfect Circle (album: Thirteenth Step)
Currently reading: (well re-reading) The Cats of Tanglewood Forest by Charles de Lint

why I don’t watermark

First of all, I am a delight. Second, cats can be the harshest editors…

black and white photo of a gargoyle on a porch rail

So the title has nothing to do with today’s post, but my guess is that it made you look.

“For even the very wise cannot see all ends.”
― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

Also, one of the cats decided to take up editing. She highlighted some text, then sent it into the nebulous digital spaces that hold unseen content by tapping some keys. It seems the Universe had other ideas, so today you just get a “viral” hook, a small story about my cat, and a photo. Maybe tomorrow I’ll have a bit more brain capacity.

Much love,
~ KEU

Currently listening to: Yo La Tengo (album: There’s a Riot Going On)
Currently reading: (well re-reading) The Cats of Tanglewood Forest by Charles de Lint