Listen up, you beautiful bitches. If you're an artist, you damn well know how important it is to have a kick-ass bio.
Think of your bio, not as a bunch of words strung together; but rather a piece of art you're creating for the world to see. This is your chance to tell people who you are, what you do, and why they should give a shit about your art.
So, let's get down to the gritty. Why the hell is an artist's bio so important? It's your chance to connect to your audience on a deeper level. It gives people a sneak peek at the wizard behind the canvas and reveals why you continue to pour your heart out with each brushstroke.
Artists are storytellers, after all, and this is a chance to tell everyone why your art is worth their time and money.
But here's the thing: don’t let your bio become a generic snooze-fest. It needs to be interesting, authentic, and reflect your unique voice. That means no corporate or stuffy bullshit. No Jargon. If you try too hard to appeal to everyone, you will end up appealing to no one - that's the goddamned honest truth. Instead, Write like you're talking to your best friend, your dog, or that tatted-up barista who always gives you extra foam on your cappuccino.
You need to use third-person language. That's just the way it is, so just do it. Remove the word “‘I” and replace with your favourite pronouns. You'll make yourself sound more like a badass. I always think of The Rock, a.k .a. Dwayne Johnson, back when he was still a wrestler and not yet a movie star. He used to say crap like, "Do you smell what the Rock is cooking?" Do wrestlers cook? I dunno. Let's imagine him shouting to the crowd, "The Rock paints abstract psychological landscapes and plays on the intensity of moods using light and shadow. " Get ready to sound like a freakin' superstar.
Now, let's talk about keeping it simple. We don't need your life story, folks. Unless your pets and long walks on the beach are relevant to your art, which I doubt if you're reading this (not judging!), leave that shit out. Stick to only fascinating tidbits. Where you're based, any art-related education or qualifications, the mediums and techniques you use in your work, key themes or subjects, what inspires or influences your style, and your biggest, raddest achievements. Oh, and if there are any common questions people ask about your work, make sure to answer those, too.
And hey, while we're at it, write multiple versions of your bio. Start with a longer one for your website and portfolio and a short one for online marketplaces or when you're in the elevator with that cute barista with the extra foam. You want to be able to tell people who you are confidently and what you do without stumbling over your words like a damn fool. It’s called an elevator pitch. Look it up. Practice in the mirror.
But wait, there's more! Editing tips, folks. First and foremost, 'kill your darlings' (it’s a writer's phrase, but I love the moodiness of it). It means that sometimes you must cut out sentences or entire paragraphs, even ‘nice’ ones if they don't pull their weight. We need to be cutthroat here. Every word counts, especially with the shorter versions. Second, get a fresh pair of eyes to look over your writing. Find someone you trust who will give you honest feedback. Try not to get butt-hurt about it either- they’re doing you a favour, so remember to be gracious with constructive criticism.
It’s a good idea to update your bio(s) once a year as you and your work develop, evolve and change.
So, there you have it. I hope this inspires you to keep your voice distinctive, memorable and delicious. Chances are you’ll remember this advice more than you would some boring-ass blog post that Google dredged up from the murky bottom of the interwebs simply because it sounds a bit off the wall.
Just remember to keep it real, keep it interesting, and keep your artist bio reflective of who you are as a creator and as a human.
I’ve had the privilege lately of working on some sentimental projects. I cast a rose, given to my friend the night her husband proposed, some special feathers and a memento of a son, lost to childhood illness.
Now I’m getting to work on an exciting new project for a musician. He’s saved ticket stubs throughout the years, rather than letting them gather dust in a box, I’m going to make them into a colourful artwork for his family home.
Words cannot express how much I love creating meaningful art and how honoured I feel that people trust me with their most special possessions and memories.
If you have a meaningful keepsake, let’s talk. Feel free to DM or email me dawn@roospotting.com
That's me, enjoying every drop of an exorbitant Marg on my 40th birthday (it's been so long since I've been out that the price of my fave beachside beverage quadrupled). But back to my point...
Website Copy.
Place into your customers’ hands the moment they feel thirst.
Salud!
But what about branding?
Images, branding, typography, they’re all important. But without words, you cannot inspire and call your customer to action.
Without words, you’ll melt into the crowd and water down that perfect cocktail.
Create brand evangelists with original copy.
Because you shouldn’t ask for the sale before having at least one margarita together.
So how can MY words help YOU?
I write copy exclusively for websites. Delegate this task to me and free up that time and space to do your best work.
I'm switching up my business model in 2021- expert web content for; Entrepreneurs, Bosses, Manifestors, Chiefs, CEO’s, Shamans, Matriarchs, Coaches, and Gang leaders.
If you are curious about how my words can help YOU or your biz, email me here.
It's 5 o'clock Somewhere,
Dawn
Running my fingers along the twisted scar on my abdomen I wince at the tissue’s thickness and what it represents.
The baby cries impatiently as I fumble for my glasses. I haven’t slept more than a three-hour clip in four months. For a moment I flopped back down in bed and pulled the blanket over my head. What if I just refused to get up?
Less than six months ago. I felt that close to giving up. Every. Single. Day.
I tried to prepare for my second child. Took all the preventative measures to avoid or minimise a second round of postnatal depression. The emergency caesarian was not part of my plan. Nor the reflux issues and sleeplessness that followed.
I retreated from my social networks. I couldn't taste food. I felt equal parts overwhelmingly busy and bored. My interests faded. The negative self-talk had a freaking field day on my self-esteem.
{There were several exceptional humans who helped with my responsibilities, allowed me to nap, brought me coffee, let me cry, DM'ed me the best midwife advice. Thank you, my village.}
My husband was also sleep-deprived and stressed beyond recognition. His usual positivity gave way to worry due to uncertainty at work. Lucky guy, he bounced from one stressful environment to another. It took every last breath in his tank to make sure I wasn't going to completely lose my marbles. We barely saw one another, he barely saw the girls.
This too shall pass, they say. But when you’re in the middle of it, the end alludes you.
When my Grandmother passed away in New York and I couldn’t get home for the funeral, it was the closest to a nervous breakdown I’ve ever felt.
It was time for the BIG question. What’s it all for?
That’s when we flipped the Goddamn table on our life.
Matt got his Commercial and Residential builders licenses. With this massive goal achieved, it was like someone flung open a window in our house full of closed doors. As a family, all four of us managed to squeeze out of that little escape hatch and bust into the sunlight.
1. By Being a Good Person
Matt worked his ass off for fifteen years in the construction industry. He made great relationships with subcontractors and built a reputation for himself as a fair, respectful and honest person. Don't burn bridges unless they're toxic, stand up for what's right, people will remember you for it. Protect your reputation.
2. Making Time
There's never enough 'time.' Never for anyone, ever. Throw out that excuse. Matt pursued a life-long dream of getting his builders license even though the timing was downright shitty after having our second baby. I supported him and complained every step of the way. Two days a week I only saw him during night feeds. We got through it and I wouldn't change a thing.
3. Sacrificing Something Big
We sold our dream home. At the end of the day, it’s sticks and bricks. Better that we have more autonomy, more time as a family. It was an emotional rollercoaster selling in today's market. But we've done it! Cashed-up, and cashed-in, ready to start our business. Something had to give and I’m glad it was the house and not one of our brains.
4. Creating The Scariest Thing We Could Think Of
We started our own construction company. Everyone Matt speaks to about starting a business says the same thing, “Starting my own business is the best thing I’ve ever done, my only regret is not doing it sooner.” It takes gonads. It takes teamwork. It takes trust. Our chips are in and we are high-fiving all the way to the starting line.
Matt has been home with the kids and I for the last few months. We’ve been tested with two deaths in the family, my depression, the four of us getting sick for a month, a baby who didn’t sleep through the night, selling our home in a declining market….I’m not sure how much more pressure you can place on a partnership.
The experience has absolutely galvanised us.
We made all the difficult decisions as a team. We trusted one another. We supported each other. We snuggled our babies and took turns sleeping-in (he only had a few turns).
My mental health is the best it’s been in years if not decades. THIS is what it's all about.
I know if all goes to plan, life will get busy again. Matt will be working long hours and the pressure will ramp up. The difference is that this time it's on our own terms. The risks are greater but so are the potential rewards.
Life is too short to stay on a socially constructed path. There are other ways to do things. Take a risk, get off the grid, travel, love, create. It’s probably going to involve a trade or a sacrifice but what’s more important, being safe or living?
“Life is all about not knowing, and then doing something anyway.” Mark Manson (from Screw Finding your Passion).
Please take care of your family, heads, and hearts, my friends.
What’s the biggest risk you ever took? What did you learn from it?
A while back I wrote this post about sleep training. Some people liked it, others compared my home to a Russian Orphanage. The reasoning; I allowed my daughter to try for 4-8 minutes at a clip to teach her to self-settle. Show me a Mum who can settle a baby in under 8 minutes and I’ll show you the next bazillionaire.
For the record: I’m not Svetlana. My child didn’t stop crying because she thought no one would come tend to her. She learned to stop fighting bedtime. My first born is now four-years-old and still sleeps like a champ.
Allow me one more defensive comment and I’ll get to my point, promise. There are many ways to teach a baby to self-settle, some involve crying and others don’t. It all depends on how much patience you have.
To make an omelet, you need to break a few eggs. I prefer my breakfast after a full night’s sleep. (Our method did not involve controlled crying even though some robust commenters accused such.) If you want to know exactly what we did to teach our baby to sleep you can read the full article here.
It used to really annoy me when people told me I got lucky with our methods. They said I was gifted with a good sleeper.
I never argued for fear of seeming smug. My husband and I worked our buns off to teach our daughter into good sleep habits. We would slip up from time to time, and we always paid the price. After every illness or vacation, we had to 're-set' the sleep schedule. It was hard WORK I tell you! Not luck!
I see that now. We were lucky enough to crack our daughter's code with a mixture of methods. She’s a regimented child by personality who responded well to our regimented sleep routine and settling.
Each child is different, everyone says it over and over when you’re pregnant with your second. I tried to go into this with a clean slate but obviously, with plans to try the same approach as last time. It worked once, so if it ain't broke...
Then we got silent reflux. And no sleep. For four months. The same approach would not work for a child with different needs (and a health condition).
I pick the baby up all the time because it could be trapped wind (or she's messing with me). Silent reflux babies comfort-eat so she fed every two-to-three hours in the first four months. That stretched to every three-to-four hours once she started medication.
Fed up and exhausted, I tried weaning her. She’s slept eight hours exactly twice since (but I didn’t because my body anticipated a wake-up like a puppy waiting for a walk).
Thank goodness for medication because it’s made a tremendous difference to her wind and pain (and our sleep). But it’s not a 100% perfect solution.
We had bub settling beautifully, and waking up once (for about a month), but for the last two weeks, she’s demanding to be wiggled or rocked to sleep- not something I plan to live with.
To be honest I feel slightly sheepish about my (former) confidence. I still stand by my initial article with the intent that sharing our first approach could help other children. It's understandable that parents who deal with serious sleep-issues (I take my hat off to you, you warriors) might have been skeptical.
I still believe there are solutions, it's just a matter of finding the right one for each individual child. I have to believe it! We humans are meant to sleep, not fight it. Right?
Perhaps it’s time to call in reinforcements. I do truly believe every kid has a sleep code, it’s just finding a way to crack it. Sometimes, if we can't figure it out ourselves, we need to call in the experts.
Have you tried sleep school or a sleep-nanny?
These hacks were passed down on my Italian-American side of the family (it's no surprise that many of them have to do with food- mangia!) These low-tech tidbits ended up in our family cookbook and I thought it only fair to share the wisdom with the wider world.
Before they became meme’s or pins, life hacks were advice passed down from generation to generation.
I came across a section in our family cookbook called “Did you know tidbits,” a section jammed with tips, tricks and life hacks many of which I never knew. Goes to show how important the written word is for passing down information.
These hacks were too good not to share, so here’s a list of my favourites. From the ‘Barres Family Cookbook’ (lovingly put together by my Mother’s side of the family including my Grandmother and my beloved Great Aunties, Aunts, and Cousins).
Reducing Static: Pin a small safety pin to the seam of your slip when wearing a dress or to the seam of your slacks if you're wearing stockings to prevent static cling. (Does anyone wear slips anymore? How adorably retro).
Extra Hair Conditioner: (There's always extra) Use it to shave your legs.
Broken Glass: Clean it up with a wet cotton ball (cotton wool)
Reopen a Sealed Envelope: If you forget to put something inside, place inside your freezer for an hour or two and reopen easily
Foggy Windscreen: Keep a chalkboard eraser in your car to wipe away fog, works better than a cloth.
Garlic Taste: If you want a light garlic taste in a recipe add it early in the cooking, if you want a stronger garlic flavour, add it later
Get Rid of the Grease: Add a teaspoon of water when frying beef mince, it will help pull the grease away from the meat while cooking
Eggs still fresh? Place eggs in a bowl of water, if they float throw them out. Good eggs will stay submerged. For easy deviled eggs, add filling to a zip loc bag, cut off one corner and pipe into the hard boiled egg halves.
Revive Veggies: Soak in ice water with a dash of vinegar to crisp them up. If they are past their peak, use them to make stock (roast them first for a deeper flavour). If you overcook them, serve as a puree with olive oil or a little butter.
Use Overripe fruit: 1. Cut off the parts that are still edible and freeze them to use in smoothies. 2. Cook down with a little water and sugar or juice to make a fruit syrup. 3. Cook down, add a little sugar for a quick fruit puree/ sauce to use on yoghurt, dessert, pancakes or ice cream.
Bananas: 1. Peel bananas from the bottom to avoid picking off the stringy bits. That’s how primates eat them! 2. When you get bananas home from the store, seperate them at the stems. Individual bananas last longer than if you keep them in a bunch.
Double Frosting: When you buy frosting from a can in the supermarket, whip it with your mixer and it will double in size. You can frost more cupcakes or cake and you’ll reduce the amount of sugar in each serving.
Measuring Cups: Before you measure sticky substances like peanut butter, syrup or honey, rinse the measuring cup with hot water (don’t dry) and watch how easily the sticky ingredient slides out.
Weeds: After you plant, add a layer of wet newspapers about 4cm thick around the plants, this will prevent weeds getting through and add a layer of compost to your soil as it breaks down.
Get rid of fruit flies: Fill a small glass halfway with apple cider vinegar, 2 drops of washing liquid and mix well. Fruit flies will be drawn to the cup and drown in the liquid.
Get Rid of Ants: Put small piles of polenta where you see them, they will take it home and since they cannot digest it which kills them. It will take a week or so but it works without having to worry about poison around pets or children.
I attempted to board my flight to Sydney yesterday and the attendant stopped me, asked how many weeks pregnant I was, snatched my doctor’s certificate, and studied it suspiciously. “Wait here,” she said, while passengers politely sidestepped me and disappeared down the jetway.
Every airline has different regulations for flying while pregnant so even if you think you know, double check. Then check again.
At 31 weeks, it’s my last trip for the foreseeable future. Travel bag packed (so light when you’re kid free!), itineraries printed, vitamins bagged, routes planned, I even requested extra pillows for my hotel room. At the airport I had time for a cappuccino, a bit of reading, and some emails.
Of course, I also had my Doctor’s certificate. Told you I’m organised! Granted, it looked a little dodgy since it spent the last few weeks in my purse next to a leaking, liquid vitamin wrapper- The important fact being it gave me permission to fly for another three weeks.
The flight attendant scoured her computer, presumably looking for a loophole that would deny me access to that flight. I saw her shaking her head so I got ready to argue.
“Your certificate needs to be written within ten days of your flight,” she told me stonily and went on to speak to me about the safety of my unborn baby and that all airlines have different rules and regulations.
Even though I’m a low-risk pregnancy, and my certificate says I’m safe to fly for another three weeks, it’s all she needed to draw a line in the sand. Once she finally told me I could call my OB’s office and get a new one, the passenger line dissipated.
As luck would have it, a midwife answered my call and after breathlessly explaining myself (and supportive comments of disbelief from her) I had a new certificate in minutes...but it was too late.
“Can’t you let me on?” I pleaded, “the plane is still here.”
“Nope, we’ve completed our paperwork.”
“Paperwork? What does that even mean? Can't you just open the door?”
“It means we took you off the manifest, we're removing your bag, and we can’t delay the flight any longer.”
Finally, I lost my composure, “You said you wanted to ensure the safety of my baby but you’re causing me more stress now than if you would have just let me on the plane.” And finally the undignified “This is so unfair.”
They booked me another flight, at no charge, and I cried.
It’s not that I’m angry they stuck to the rules, I understand that regulations are in place to keep people safe, I’m upset at the way they treated me. If they told me mere minutes earlier to call my Doctor’s office, I would have had time to board the flight. I felt powerless, silly, and desperate.
Luckily my husband didn’t answer when I called him or I don’t think I would have been able to get the words out. I sent him a shaky text, shuffled into the bathroom to finish my tears, bought a chocolate bar, and wrote a strongly worded email to Virgin. By the time Matt called me back I could speak without the wobbles.
“At least now you have a story to tell,” he said. Bless the man, he gets me.
Note: One reader pointed out that if flying while pregnant is a 'health risk' than the guidelines should be regulated by a health organisation, not left up to individual airlines. Makes sense!
Don’t let this happen to you. Be aware of airline rules and regulations- they do differ slightly. Here’s a directory of popular Australian airlines with links to their policies about Flying while Pregnant see below.
UPDATE:
Earlier this week Virgin responded with some standard messaging-type email where they claimed I was responsible for not having the correct paperwork (true, but my complaint was about poor service, not their flight regulations) in the email they stated:
"However as a goodwill gesture, our Ground Crew offloaded you from the original flight and rebooked you onto the next available flight as the flight cannot be held or delayed."
Incredibly unhappy with that response, I wrote back to them, again, pointing out my issue with their customer service, the stress they caused me, and pointed out that my little post about the incident went viral and was picked up by Babyology and exposed to even more readers.
Today I got an email telling me that they will credit my frequent flyer account by 5,000 points. This is a generous gesture but it's unfortunate that it took me standing up on my soapbox, in front of an audience of tens of thousands of readers to get their attention.
I wrote them back telling them that I am grateful for the points but disappointed that another Mother might experience the same callous treatment but that she might not have a platform like I do.
I can only hope that a. the particular staff member is re-trained for sensitivity and b. that someday a governing health body, not individual airlines, can come up with a standard guideline for all to follow for flying during pregnancy.
For now, it's time to move forward. The only luggage I'll pack in the near future is my hospital bag. Thanks for reading everyone!
When asked; "Have you filed for divorce yet?" at a kids birthday party I was rendered speechless. My husband and I were in the middle of explaining our home extension to someone.
Luckily when my jaw is on the floor my chatty hubby is a champ at scooping up the conversation. Call me naive but just because our project has been smooth-as-double-glazed-glass, it's not the same for all couples. Pro Tip: It helps if one half of the partnership is a project manager in construction for a living. Yup.
Advantages aside, this was a massive undertaking for a young family. We built an extension twice the size of our home and managed the build and trades ourselves (when I say 'we' I mean 'Matt').
Take our (barely) 3 bedroom, 1 bathroom 1950's style home and add an open plan kitchen/ living area and a parent's retreat with walk-in robe and studio/ office space. Without demolishing anything (due to our previous renovation on the original house). Plus, stick to a skinny budget yet make it look awesome.
Good thing my beloved adores his career because doing his own personal build seemed to give him extra enthusiasm. Something to be grateful for when upon his return from a 12 hour workday he would bounce into the backyard measuring, locating mistakes, figuring out how to fix them and lining up the next round of tradesmen.
Even though the Husband knows everything about building, he still included me in every single decision (even when it needed to be explained five times.) Dude has the patience of a Saint.
What really made our reno a success is teamwork. I trusted his experience with construction and he trusted mine with finishes. We worked harmoniously on design with our wickedly talented architect. The result is a completely unique home which is an amalgamation of both of our tastes. (He is drawn to modern minimalist where I lean toward vintage classic.) We settled on modern industrial with a classic twist, something we both love. Now after just a few months in our new space I would not change a single thing. What a great feeling.
But back to the initial comment which rendered me mute, I thought back to the survey I took on Houzz.com.au about couples and renovations. From the questions in the quiz I should have guessed that building and renovating is highly stressful for a lot of peeps. You know the whole; “rate the difficulty of the renovation on your relationship” type of Q and A.
Matt and I related more to this quote in the Houzz article:
“While renovating is challenging, it can strengthen relationships. Many people reported that after completing a renovation project, they now spend more time at home together, eat and cook more at home, and have more company over. A large majority of people in many countries also said they feel more comfortable, happier and more organised at home.”
Our home is finally finished. It means so much more to us than just more space for more stuff. It means our daughter will have room to play, I have a dedicated place for my business, and we will be able to host family holidays and overseas guests.
The new part of our home is warmer and brighter. I cannot say enough how much this has positively affected my mood. The renovation has completely changed our day to day lives.
I’m looking forward to being able to relax with a glass of wine in our new living room and talk about anything other than construction and design. Who am I kidding? We’ve already started talking about our next project.
Have you survived a home renovation? What was the most difficult part? What was the easiest?
It’s easy to think non-Americans are not emotionally (or financially) invested in the US election but I would argue that’s not the case.
An American expat of seven consecutive years, I can only watch in horror as my fellow countrymen and women tear one another to shreds over the most controversial election in history. And guess what? The world is watching too.
For the record I moved to Australia to escape myself, not my country. I didn’t plan on marrying the love of my life and settling here (for now.)
Something feels rotten in America. During my latest visit to the homeland in June, tension was palpable. Mention the campaign or election and people would bristle, take to their corners and prepare their arsenals.
The Orlando shooting occurred while I was sleeping in my Mother’s spare bedroom. It happened at 2:30am and we didn’t hear about it on the news until about 10:30am the next day. Were we becoming so desensitised that we were blasé about ‘yet another’ mass murder? The gun debate ramped up. Again. Campaigns and supporters had more fuel.
I felt something I had never previously felt in my home country. Unsafe. I wanted to get my daughter and myself back to Australia right quick. I can’t even describe the guilt and shame associated with that thought. Shouldn’t I be in my birthplace, protesting and not running away back to my safety bubble? Perhaps that’s the ‘American’ in me- every man for himself. #imout
Back in Australia and a few months later, I’m witnessing the two most unpopular presidential candidates in history duke it out. I don’t know about you, but to me that screams SYSTEM BROKEN.
There are no civil discussions. Only judgement. Hate. Name-calling. Just look at my personal Facebook wall. You’ll see cruel memes and words anytime I post something remotely political: ‘Bitch, liar, pig, Hit-lary, Nazi,” I deleted some words that were even worse.
I don’t believe in washing my friendship group to include only people who think the way I do, I can handle a civil debate, but like the campaign, these inter-friendship discussions degrade into school-yard intimidation and bullying. I’ve been accused of being ignorant, disrespectful, and alienating potential customers because of my beliefs (which include standing up for women and other vulnerable people) and have been told not to comment because I don’t even live in the US. THESE PEOPLE ARE MY FRIENDS AND FAMILY. Yeah, I can’t believe it either.
The divide is deep and painful. Is it a political tactic? Maybe. But the whole thing has completely devolved into a spiteful mess. People are tearing one another down instead of focusing on the issues.
My hometown friend was visiting us in Australia a few weeks ago and she said that she thinks Trump actually has a chance at winning because enough people want to see the system burn down. Really America? Has it come to that? What else will burn down with us? Because in my experience fires are uncontrollable. And I have other news: This burning America will most certainly affect the world, it’s stability and it’s safety.
My Australian and UK friends are as concerned as I am. I poled some them, bloggers aka a thoughtful, balanced and intelligent bunch, to get their opinions which made me realize just how worried and sickened they have become.
Note: Not one of them got defensive, attacked me personally, name-called (well, okay a few called Trump names), or tore one another down. Maybe it’s because none of them support Trump. I can’t think of one non-American who does. Distance makes it easier to see the forest for the trees, apparently.
Robyna “It doesn't make any sense at all looking from the outside in. All we see and hear about is a man who appears completely offensive at every level and inappropriate for office. However, we don't live with American problems.”
Samara “When I think about it I guess I'm not really that surprised by the situation. I wonder if, for some, Hillary represents the status quo - i.e. Politics as usual, game playing, double talk and seemingly no real change for ordinary people, and Trump represents the possibility of disruption to the continual disenchantment many people have with 'the system’?”
Carolyn “I really don't understand it. Even if someone hates Hillary, how can you possibly listen to Donald and think he is a viable option? “
Amy “The thing I really don't get, is why anyone who is poor would ever think (Trump) was on their side. He is the very essence of someone who would trample on people to win. Who would say, well you aren't rich because you don't work as hard or as smart as me. Why would anyone ever think he would help them?”
Shani “I have no words.I have no idea. It scares me that so many people would take him seriously enough to vote for him.”
Collette “I fear for the future, not just for America but all of us, when someone of (Trump’s) ilk can actually be voted in to power.”
There were many more fantastic quotes and thoughts from these ladies but I had to whittle it down.
From what I can tell, the initial shock about Trump running at all is wearing off and now they are getting concerned. You can see them grappling, trying to understand, admitting they have a different point of view. Other Americans would do well to try and give each other the same courtesy.
I kind of wish the United Nations could weigh in on the vote- obviously that is not how independent countries are governed. Maybe what I mean is that I wish America and Americans would take their heads out of the scuffle long enough to see their role and responsibility to the International community. There is carnage in this campaign’s wake and we’ll be looking at a future filled with more unless we change our strategy. Get it together America. Earth is hoping that you do.
If you haven’t been privy to me shouting about the Bupa Blog Awards from the hilltops all you have to do is scroll down and read your eyes out.
It’s conservative to say that I’ve been a little bit excited about being a finalist. I found myself in the company of some incredible bloggers, women who I already followed and looked up to. When I found out about the nomination my brain shouted at me “IMPOSTER” and then a funny thing happened. That foghorn of a voice slowly faded and confidence sprouted in it’s place.
Confidence is an issue I’ve had for years, I’m sure I’m not alone in this. When you meet me I am outgoing, loud and friendly but deep down I could never shake the feeling of ‘not good enough.’
Some of the big-deal judges of this competition noticed me. They acknowledged my most genuine body of work to date. I’m not great, or even very good but I freakin’ love what I do and it’s me.
What happened next was magic.
Pushing though the self-doubt I wanted to get my ‘house in order’ so to speak so I started pouring hours into learning about the back end of blog world. The technical things. These are not my strengths but I started learning a few things I had been scared to try.
I had to look over every single (cringe-worthy) old post (part of the tech stuff I was doing) and I can see how much my writing and photography has improved since I started. Neither of these skills are where I would like them to be (and nowhere near as good as the people I admire) but goshdarnit! I improved! I improved while relishing the work I was doing. I’d call that a win.
I started wondering more, thinking more, writing more. I slowed down on the compulsive editing. Suddenly there was a flow. No writers block in sight (let’s keep it that way).
When awards night came I was under no illusion that I would win but I told myself it was okay to be disappointed. I mean, I’m human. When the (well-deserved) winner of my category was announced I heard that voice again, “You don’t deserve to be here,” but you know what? I snapped back this time, “but I AM here.”
No, I am not the best, and that’s okay. Gives me lots of room to improve.
When I listened to the winners speeches I could not help but feel even more inspired. These women were so grateful, excited and proud of their audiences. They were articulate, passionate and considerate. In the room there was an air of support, recognition and women fist-pumping for one another. Not a (sad) tear in the whole joint. Nothing but support. I am honoured to be among them.
I said it before and I’ll say it again, this time with feeling, I’ve already won.
Check out the list of fabulous winners here.
