I grew up in a very tiny town in central Florida. There were mostly woods around my house. The interesting, somewhat strange thing, about where we lived was that pretty much all of my extended family on my mother’s side lived on the same 90 plus acres. My grandparents lived in a house across the pond. Then I had three sets of uncles and aunts spread across the property. My grandpa, being quite the visionary that he was, thought that it would be nice to give each of his adult children a piece of property to live on and raise their families. As children, my cousins and I were practically in paradise with all of the trees to climb and plenty of woods to tramp through. We would spend hours building forts out of pine trees and palmettos. Sometimes we would dig giant holes in the ground and cover them up with ply wood. One of my aunts had several horses so we would go on the great horseback rides, taking the horses over the railroad tracks, down long trails. There was always something to do or some great adventure to have. When the ponds were full during the rainy season we would have mud fights and go redneck surfing. Redneck surfing consisted of sitting on a pool boogie board, using a rope to tie it to the back of a four-wheeler, and hanging on for dear life as it raced through the muddy water. Many times we would canoe through the ponds to each other’s houses. The summer time was truly our favorite time of the year!
Hello there I’m about to tell you a love story that starts with a cat named Burt. Burt was my soul cat it’s funny becas I sadly told my self that I’ll never find my soul mate if Burt was still alive.
Sometimes leaving behind your routine and exploring the world is the catharsis you need to heal.
This photo was taken on a beautiful day in the beginning of May, 2015, in Angleton Texas, at the original Rowdy Girl Sanctuary. I had just flown in from Uruguay where my Mother and Brother and I had moved for a fresh start in life, after cancer had claimed the life of my Father and we had brushed with death ourselves in the later stages of neurological Lyme disease. I had recently survived an intensely abusive relationship and had found my voice in the animal rights movement, speaking up for the voiceless. I had seen a photo of this amazing woman who was to me, like a mystical unicorn among normal human mortals. Her name is Renee, and after reading her story, I had to go to her and help her cause as soon as conditions permitted. When I arrived, there were around thirty cows, four horses, and a few other fortunate animals. I spent an hour with this unbelievably beautiful horse, who I called “the Bowie horse” for having one blue eye, and one brown one, who would’ve been slaughtered if not for the heart work of Renee and her husband Tommy. This is one of a few photos I took with my ancient little iPhone 5 of our profoundly meaningful first meeting. He and I stood motionless with our foreheads touching, and I could clearly discern the depth of his wisdom, the beauty of his Soul. He told me of countless things and knew I could hear everything he shared. In the photograph, much later I realized the whole sanctuary lay visible, reflected in his other-worldly eye. There, in his curiosly shaped iris, is visible the now famous red trailer, which was once used to transport baby calves to the sale barn and ultimately, to merciless slaughter. Renee wrote a song about the red trailer, and how it would never be used to steal babies from their grieving Mothers ever again. This photo I chose among many many others for its sublime beauty and for the poignant message it will always serve to carry to all Truth seeking Souls in the history of Animal Liberation. It is by far, the most important one in a time when the Earth is screaming for our stewardship and care through every single one of her inhabitants, every one of our hearts. I fancy myself a skilled “iPhone artist” and believe in creating quality works using whatever tools one has. My trusty little phone has served me well in this endeavor and it continues to be my favorite tool for capturing life’s experiences, lessons, and stunning images.
What grinds my gears, you ask? There's a lot of things that most people do that annoy me, but I'll be talking about the one thing that I've been curious about for so long: some of these school districts who are so concerned about how students, even people of color, choose to wear their hair. Over the last few years, I've seen and read stories about students being suspended for wearing, dying, and having them in cornrows and braids. People being fired from their jobs or not getting a job because of their hair. As a person of color, I take offense to what these schools are doing to children and lowering their self-esteem. Our hairstyles are part of our self-identities. It's part of who we are. Just like what we like to wear: it's part of our own individual personal style. In July 2019, California became the first state to ban discrimination against black students and employees over their natural hairstyles. I believe that more states will follow suit and adopted in all states. Last month, I ran into an article that not only upset me, but was angered. It took place in my home state and I have a lot to say about it.
I used to have a problem when it came to shopping on Sephora.ca and buying a lot much makeup. A few years ago, I became obsessed with “beauty gurus” on Youtube and I began buying lots of makeup. At the time, it brought me a lot of joy and I loved playing with eyeshadow palettes and colours. I spent a lot of time and money buying tons of makeup.