An Open Invitation for Percolation

 

I have some needs. And I have some skillz. I’m sending an open invitation to the universe, to see what percolates.

 
Here’s a running list of things I desire:

:: Speaking / voice coaching (in-person or virtual).

:: Non-denominational holiday cards (that don’t suck).

:: (More) radical queer friends in my three primary haunts: Twin Cities, LA & NYC.

:: A pen pal. Old-school. Hand-written letters.

:: A Tarot reading or psychic analysis.

:: Someone to ‘splain to me what the heck “astral projection” is.

:: A surprise.

:: A chance to design a workshop for LGBT youth.

:: An apartment or guest house to sublet (or swap) for 3-4 weeks this winter. LA, please. Westside. Preferably Venice Beach.

:: New headshots (eventually-ish).

And here’s what I can offer in return:

:: 1:1 phone time. Digging. Dreaming. Re-wording. Re-vamping.

:: A “gut-reaction” marketing perspective on your website, blog or product gallery.

:: A video-interview via Skype. I ask the questions. You hone your self-presentation spiel. I send you the footage. You scamper off.

:: Some other service that you need, that I haven’t thought of yet (you tell me, bucko).
 

So, no need to comment (unless you wanna). Just releasing this onto the Interwebz. You can ping me on Twitter, or shoot me an e-mail. Gonna see what soars back. Mmm. Can’t wait.

 
XO.
 

 

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Raising Rates. And, My Philosophy on M.O.N.E.Y.

 

As of today, I am officially a little more expensive.

Not Scrooge-McDuck-swimming-pool-full-of-gold-doubloons expensive. Just, deep-breath-half-smile-damn-straight expensive.

As a freelancer, setting rates is a tricky tightrope act.

I thought I’d use this Momentous Occasion to share my philosophy on M.O.N.E.Y. The green stuff. Or, if you live outside the USA, the blue / pink / purple / yellow / silver / gold stuff (so jealous of your rainbow currency, by the way).
 

So, why should you raise your rates?

:: Because you’re worth it.

 
My trajectory, as an example: I sharpened my promotional skillz at a public broadcasting powerhouse — and continue to freelance for them during crunch times. I’m wrangling communications for elite pro-bloggers, like Danielle LaPorte and Gala Darling. I’m on a retainer with an award-winning marketing agency. My 1:1 clients and workshop groupies are full of radiant praise. In short: I’m gooooood. And by compensating myself appropriately, I’ll only get gooder.
 

:: Because your dance card is full.

To paraphrase my career coach & comrade Michelle Ward:

“There should always be a segment of the population who can’t afford you.”

My “whoa, nelly” moment: earlier this summer, there was a 3-week period that almost snuffed my candle. Too many clients on the roster. Too many micro-projects with endless revisions. Every day was deadline after deadline — and I was burning out. At first I berated myself — why couldn’t I keep up the pace? I had gotten my wish, after all. Puh-lenty of work! But then it hit me: like, uh, maybe I’m too cheap. Yeah. Clarity.
 

:: Because you’re socially-conscious.

Higher rates, to solve social problems? Kinda counter-intuitive, right? After all, wouldn’t cheaper be better, so more people can afford to hire me? Nope. By raising my rates, I can “pay myself” for pro bono work. Like speaking at a crisis intervention center for Native American women. Or volunteering at a vocational clinic for homeless ladies + gents. Or taking on the occasional cash-strapped / terror-stricken branding baby. Oh, and mo’ money in my pocket means I can give lavishly to causes that resonate with me — like the Human Rights Campaign and GLAAD.
 

:: Because money is freedom.

Freedom means energy. Energy means momentum. And momentum means digital products that help hundreds, not dozens. Energy to captivate and connect with my growing virtual audience. Freedom to travel, to get inspired, to unplug and juice up. Freedom to do more than tappity-tap-tap at a laptop for 12 hours a day. Electricity to GET EXCITED AND MAKE THINGS.

I hope y’all are charging what you’re worth. Don’t make me come after you with a spikey stick. Yeowch.

Oh, and if you’re curious to scope out my new rate scale, it’s ovah here. At least ’til I decide to get pricier.

XO.
 

 

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“Now. Now! Not Tomorrow!”

 


 
Been back in the Twin Cities for a week and change. Fall is bustin’ out all over. Things are moving fast. Shifting, spinning. I wanna be ready for all the gorgeous stuff flying my way. “Now. Now! Not tomorrow!”
 
Kinda obsessed with Og Mandino. I mean, his name is “Og” … what’s not to love?
 
In other news: bought a pair of just-over-the-knee huntress boots. Pale gray. Buckles. For that Artemis-meets-Beyonce look. Robin Hood, 2K-style. Disco Monk goes apple-picking. Yep.
 
XO.
 

 

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Disco Monk

 

I believe in designating an Aesthetic Concept for each new season.

As we move into autumn, my AC is: “Disco Monk.”

 
Physically, I’m donning: hoods, shrouds, cloaks, capes, move-able / groove-able fabrics and pops of neon (always).

And spiritually, I’m gearing up for: enlightened hermitude, breakfast rituals, hip hop mantras, internal disco balls, private mini-raves. And richness, across the board.

Photo snapped yesterday afternoon at Aamodt’s Apple Farm by the effortlessly talented Anna Torborg.

 
XO.
 

 
P.S. I stole some wine grapes off the vine. Don’t tell Farmer Aamodt.

Read More creativity // inspiration devotion // liberty

AFFIRMATIVE

 

I am a woman.

A lady. A dandy. A girlish dudette.

I am a woman who learned to fly a helicopter, and then decided it wasn’t her thang.

I am a woman who moved 7,087 miles from home, and changed her nickname from “Ali” to “Alex.”

I am woman who knows the power of subtle shifts. And lyrics. And labels.

A woman who escaped the cubicle, but respects those who choose to stay.

A woman whose hair has been blue, green, pink, purple, blonde, black and that unfortunate “skunk tint.”

I am a woman who enjoys surprising you.

A woman who longs to be RuPaul’s protégé.

A woman who recaps, and rocks, and raves.

I am a woman who turns heads and blows minds.

I am a woman who moisturizes.

I am a woman who found her brand-new lover and her gently-used vehicle online.

I am a woman who’s OK with that.

I am a woman who slayed anorexia.

Who broke her parents’ hearts, and lived to tell the tale.

Who dropped out of college and tried to become a massage therapist.

I am a woman who is terrified of hairy backs.

Who owns a house.

Who has been to Russia.

Who wears shiny baubles.

Who quotes Oscar Wilde.

Who fixed her eyes with lasers.

Who cries like a colicky baby.

Who blows her nose like a trombone.

Who would die for an iced Americano right about now.

Who doesn’t want to write a novel.

Who wants the truth. Yours. Mine. The gray stuff, too.

Who already forgives you.

Who. All. Ready. For. Gives. You.

This AFFIRMATIVE statement was dually inspired by Danielle LaPorte’s “Manifesto of Encouragement” and Sam Orchard’s “Affirmation.” And by RuPaul, Mr. Rogers and Thich Nhat Hanh.

It goes without saying, but I’ll say it nonetheless: if you’ve got a mantra, a statement, a mission or a vision — won’t you share it?
 
xo.
 

 

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