Today’s newsletter included some fun updates that I’ve peppered throughout this feed (like the Airstream move and ModCloth collaboration 😛) ...and how we have an awesome new fulfillment center (Woodard Bros). They’re a blended community and they employ people with special needs. I wanted to work with them because I think we need to support the kinds of companies we want to see more of in the world. It’s fun to have a biz that generates money because then I can turn around and support other cool businesses (good thing this works for personal dollars too). On that note: We have some new environmentally responsible packaging coming in a few weeks! WOO! #CTcaptainslog
Not my picture*
I’ve spent some time gone.. mostly because I’ve been dealing with some personal issues and a big downfall that I’m openly trying to discuss here.. Instagram has a funny way of showing you what you might like.. But it doesn’t disappoint my explore page. Anyways, I am no artist. Shit, I can barely draw a straight line. That doesn’t stop me.. I need to at least try. So a couple things, I consider my stories a type of expression. I believe that’s fair and we can agree on that. Although it’s not a pretty picture with different mediums, it’s still an image that I’m trying to construe in your mind. Another thing is, in order for me to tell interesting stories, is if I experience anything worthy of a story on my page. I want to give the best to you. I apologize for being absent although, I’m sure it was unnoticed. #art#writersofinstagram#freewrite#youneedart#story#storytime#writing#selfexpression#idk
When I was 11 years old I lived with my brother, my Dad and his sister - my Aunt. One hot night when we were playing scrabble and I was wearing a tank top (exposing my growing underarm hairs) my Dad decided to take it upon himself and say aloud "Brigitte, please teach my daughter to shave" . And thus it began. My obsession with being hairless. Oh I shaved, diligently. I began to question other hairs too.. of course my legs..my arms.. my belly.. my ..you know... even the embarrassing few hairs around the nipple. The thought of hair bothered me. I battled this obsession for a long while. I fought my nature. By the time I gave up shaving my armpits I was growing three hairs per follicle all as thick as wire and diligently adhering to my curls and growing in every which direction. My life went thusly. Shave, moisturize, experience 4 days of razor burn/bumps regardless of what I did... then 2 to 3 days of stubble before the skin was healed to shave again. What a nightmare! So .. about a year and a half ago I gave in. I gave in to nature. To end my suffering. I said NO to my childhood story. I let myself be free. I reimagined myself as perfect just the way I came and I am so grateful I did. So many stigmas have been released and so many conformist fears have been dropped.
The painting in the background is particularly apt to me. My dear, dear friend painted this semi portrait of me years ago and in it I am breathing life into my dreams, creating and experiencing myself.
All those years I cried over spilt milk
That would be cleaned up anyway
Though for some reason it felt good to replay the doom and gloom of the day
Then there were the years where I'd spend my time worrying over spilling the milk
Before I'd even opened the fridge
Despite having previously poured the milk without spillage, nine times out of ten
But still I'd repeat the process over and over again
Like a big vat of life giving nutrients imprisoned in a milk churner
Never really understanding why the farmer kept on pulling at my nipples
Creating confusion amongst the herd
we just stood there, frozen in a ground-hog-day, deja-vu-type, cowpat whizz
Farm animal matrix-style caged-elephant circus tent, carnival shiz
Til one day the brown cow of the pack gave us all a bit of a friendly whack
It's all he could do really, because even though he was clearly beyond the electric fence that had given a couple of us, a nasty shock whenever we'd dared step beyond the threshold of our vision
It was sometimes a bit of a chore to listen
But like I say - he was where we wanted to be, regardless
Those fields beyond look good
Problem is, our feet were stuck in the genetic mud
And excuses, afterall, had been injected in to our blood
And so instead of freedom
the black and white cows of Dependency Farm, keep on chewing the grass like there's no need to be alarmed
Even though they continue to be warned.
#milkinglivestock 🐄 #creatingmindblock
Jeans can be versatile and sturdy but oh so very ordinary at times!
I remember sitting in my car at the lights near Melbourne Central and seeing 95% of the pedestrians crossing the road wearing a variation of blue jeans.
I thought to myself, when did individuality die? Where is everyone's personal self expression?! I am not a fan of fitting in most of the time. I want people to be in touch with their uniqueness and self expression. When we are in touch with that, we shine!!! That is all I want for you!
When I was younger, I prayed to God asking that when the world ended. If he could create another world based on the Pokémon series. So I could be like Ash Ketchum and travel the world with my best friends in order to become the world’s greatest Pokémon Master.
Whenever I see roses, they remind me that no matter what you stem from, there is beauty that results for everything you go through... thorns and all your experiences make you who you are if we can transform the pain, struggle & energy around how we feel about it all. #empoweredmotherhood
***HELLO BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE!*** I'm happy to announce my patreon page is up and running! You are now able to support my creative vision, and have access to more of my process. Right now the benefits are basic, but as I grow my patronage I'll be able to start some of my bigger projects as well as provide more goodies for those that follow me. Anything you can do is the greatest help as I work to become fully supported through my creations. Thank you all for your love and support, and I promise to make it worth your while!