Tag: photography

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

the fear of leaving the book of face

First, I am a delight. Second, we are all just walking each other home…

image of a bald faced hornet getting a drink with feral bees

“I suppose the other thing too many forget is that we were all stories once, each and every one of us. And we remain stories. But too often we allow those stories to grow banal, or cruel or unconnected to each other. We allow the stories to continue, but they no longer have a heart. They no longer sustain us.”
― Charles de Lint, The Onion Girl

While this could start with all the platitudes about how doing hard things make us stronger, or that we only “grow” when life pushes us from our comfort zones, no one needs that kind of rhetoric on a beautiful Saturday morning. Thing is, I’m currently doing it with a daily meditation on if I need this or that thing, releasing all that I allowed to hold me back – except for the biggest shift…the one that seems to draw opinions from the voices in the Greek chorus.

I want to leave Facebook, along with the other platforms in the Metaverse.

You can barely turn around without finding an article about the dangers of social media – particularly Facebook – and how we would all be better without it invading our lives. As someone with a background in providing support for others, I agree with that sentiment fully but am having trouble with applying it to my life.

This issue has nothing to do with seeking attention, worrying about missing out, or that people won’t be able to find my work. It’s that I’ve given myself too much time in a world that goes against my personal set of ethics. Being there gives me this creepy feeling of not being authentic – of wanting to write/create/post something that gives an accurate depiction of how I live my life that also gets to the top of a timeline.

Like, y’all, I’ve sat in front of the “delete your account” option in some kind of weird meditative state until deciding that one more day will be okay. I literally threw out 20-some-odd years of journals, gave away all my old art supplies, filled my car 3 times with things to donate, but I can’t bring myself to get rid of the one thing that causes me the most problems.

Today there’s a full Moon in Aquarius, and as it was rising during the night, dreams came to me on the beams of light shining through my window. These were not my usual symbolic brain shows, but more like pictorial manifestos on letting go of what holds me back. When I woke it felt as if I’d just finished the iron man version of talk therapy — and with every fiber of my being I knew it was time to walk away from the Metaverse for a little while. It’s a wee bit scary, but also exciting. There are some really good things on the horizon that need my full attention, so it will be good to be free of that particular distraction.

Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

If you’ve left Facebook/the Metaverse, I would love to hear your story. What I’ve heard from others so far is that their lives became infinitely better. Or, if you have thoughts about social media in general, please feel free to share those, too.

Much love,
~ KEU

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

take a shower and shine your shoes

Everything I’m about to tell you is true…
First of all, I am a delight. Second, I’m on season 8 of Supernatural - which makes for some interesting background noise.

lawn goose with a crocheted outfit on.

“Often, moreover, it is…that aspect of our being that society finds eccentric, ridiculous, or disagreeable, that holds our sweet waters, our secret well of happiness, the key to our equanimity in malevolent climes.”
― Tom Robbins, Still Life with Woodpecker

Yesterday I began the process of untangling myself from the Meta-verse. After a year of waffling, it was time to take for taking steps toward the exit.

While I thought rainbows would cover the sky while winged kittens brought me magic jelly beans on golden trays, it was just kind of sad. Because my brain likes to do these things, I did a rough estimation of how much time I devoted to Haus of Zuck.

First, I did take some time off of FB/IG for about a year. There were life shenanigans, and time was precious. According to the stats from my phone, on a usual day I average about 1.5 hours of scrolling. In 2006 I started using FB – and with one year off, that would be 18 years of using the platform. We all know how many days are in a year, but I’m gonna use 360 due to times of illness/days of not looking at my phone.

What we have now is 1.5 (hours) multiplied by 360 (days), which equals 540 hours per year. Let’s multiply that number by 19, which brings us to 10,260 hours of time…or roughly 427.5 days.

427.5 days.

Uh…what? Like that’s a full year of non-stop scrolling (and all I got was this neck cramp and repetitive motion issues).

This is a sobering number, and it’s going to take me a little bit to process the reality of it. What was I hoping to find, and how did it make my life better? I could have walked to each of the coastlines in the United States, or hiked the Appalachian Trail. Better yet I could have just gone into my community to see if people needed help instead of watching life move along my screen.

In a delightful brain squirrel moment, I gotta say that the amount of times Supernatural subtly breaks the 4th wall brings me a ton of joy. Also, I couldn’t remember how to spell “subtly” for a hot minute. Thank goodness the internet came to my rescue. (I say dryly with my eyes starting to look upward)

Okay, so, after seeing that number – and y’all feel free to check my arithmetic on that – I’m gonna go outside and stare at some trees.

But first, some haiku…

becoming awake
push button enlightenment
some random verses

As a gentle reminder, typo fairies live with me. I promise you that my editing skills are good, but somehow once I hit “publish” everything goes haywire.

Much love,
~ KEU