Josi Denise is creating at JosiDenise.com
6

patrons

"her new namesake blog is worth reading in full"
- lara o'reilly, business insider

"darkly funny and impassioned"
- james wilkinson, daily mail

"positively the most profound and moving piece i've read in a very long time. exquisite."
-sarah, reader, us

"someone I can relate to. thanks for reminding us that life is rarely picture perfect."
-carmen, reader, nova scotia

"best story of the day"
-jim edwards, founding editor, business insider uk

••• w h o •••

Hey, you.

I'm Josi.
Restless creative,
recovering perfectionist,
mischievous child of
the universe.

For half my life,
I have been spilling myself
all over the internet
in an insatiable attempt to
make some kinda sense.

Because I breathe, I write.
And since you're here,
please know you may take
whatever you need
from my words.


••• w h a t •••

While I have been blogging since I was 15, very little of my work remains published.
One reason is that I am a firm believer in a few small, but significant, facts:

1, everything is temporary
2. we are here for only as long as we are supposed to be
3. our purpose is to create and connect

JosiDenise.com began as Miss Josi Denise in 2013, when I thought I had the world figured out and derailed my director level career in hospitality marketing to become a full-time mother. In 2014, I rebranded my little creative endeavor as The American Mama, and began sprinkling in sponsored posts among my candid, sunshine-filled stories about raising children in Miami Beach. For two years, I grew my following from 10 readers a month to more than 375,000, and before 'influencer' was even a word, I had thousands of people devouring details of my life on social media, and eventually dozens of nationally recognized brands paid me to feature their products and services through my writing and photos.

Then in 2015, I snapped. Three little ones strapped into carseats, I drove 16 hours out of Florida to the safe haven of my hometown, and filed for divorce. My blog dragged along for the ride, growing quieter by the month as the pressures of my reality slowly killed me. You see, my audience at the time was built around a lifestyle. But the truth is, I was only writing half the picture, because I lived in constant fear of emotional abuse. I have often wondered if my cheerful representation of everything was in actuality, a desperate attempt to manifest perfection. If I present this image of myself and my reality, and hide all the pain, will it make it better? If I cover up the chaos, and play along with this game of status and likes, will I have a happy marriage? I never lied, but when you are being paid to share snippets of your days that seem to be filled with endless family activities, luxurious travel, and endless cookie-baking, it's just really hard to flip a switch and admit that I was also popping prescribed anxiety pills and planning an escape.

So I didn't, until I did. One Friday night in the spring of 2016, I was pregnant with my fourth child, living with my best friend that had stolen my heart at 17, and laying on the dirty carpet of our hand-me-down doublewide trailer. I looked up at my love, and just knew -- I couldn't do it anymore. I still had women emailing me very passionately-worded first-world expressions of their dissatisfaction with my chicken recipes or whatever, and I was still battling tooth and nail with the state of Indiana against my ex-husband to grant me freedom and let me keep custody of my children. Since changing my url to JosiDenise.com a few months prior, I had written a few raw posts, including a post about child support that was shared almost a million times, but I felt like I needed to fully write my truths, so the plan was that my 'new' blog would be brave, genuine, and unfiltered creative work. And my first post was going to be a letter to myself, expressing my frustration with the industry at the time and the bubble I was writing in, and essentially - killing off The American Mama. So, I wrote this venting rant in less than an hour, and titled it the way most brands were pitching women with children and blogs at the time:
Dear Mommy Blogger. Then I went to sleep.

When I woke up on Saturday, I had an email from Business Insider. Then, Good Morning America called me, and somehow all of my relatives, until they got me on the air. Over the next two weeks, I was featured in, talked about, or contacted by The New York Post, The Daily Mail, Tech Insider, Post Secret, TIME, The Daily Dot, Nightline, Cosmopolitan, NBC Today Show, US Weekly, The Tomi Lahren Show, Breitbart, AOL news (which is apparently still a thing), The Independent Journal Review, and ....deep breath... and Inkwell Management in NYC, the literary agency of the late and amazing Anthony Bourdain. Later, I was also featured in Forbes, and flown to Los Angeles to film the pilot episode of The Morgan Spurlock Show, which then never aired because he tweeted his guilt in the #metoo and crashed his supersize career. In addition to the shitstorm of virality in national media, there were probably at least 200 blog posts and tabloids written about me, half wanting to burn me at the stake and the other half drowning me in praise.
To say it was overwhelming is an understatement. And unlike Chewbacca Mom, who was making headlines at the same time, I definitely did not get any full-ride scholarships or bendable action figures out of the deal. In fact, I kind of wanted to disappear, and never blog again.

Between then and now, I attempted (and failed) to write a politically fueled memoir about living in the midwest during the election, I started (and never finished) a rather dark photo series capturing the depressing parts of culture in the rust belt, and I erased tens of thousands of photos and posts from my Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and blog in both an exaggerated effort to protect my children and also to avoid the impact of harassment in my personal life. In 2017, I became a minimalist, sold almost all of my material possessions in a yard sale, and roadtripped across the country, eloping in Vegas along the way and traveling up the Pacific Coast Highway with all of our things in a plywood box that we built in the back of our pickup truck. We settled outside of Seattle for a year, where I spent most of my time in psychiatry offices and trying to breathe in MRI machines, but also experimented with poetry, conceptual photography, and even erotica. But Instagram kept removing my pictures no matter how many likes they got, and behind the art, I was struggling to keep my life together.

In the heat of July, I woke up alone and out of breath on a popped air mattress a few miles north of Kentucky — which I'm pretty sure is exactly what people mean when they use the term rock bottom. But during that time, I scribbled a note on a ripped piece of paper that I keep in my journal to this day: Write for Yourself. And on my bathroom mirror, there’s still a ghost of lipstick reminding me to ‘try again’ every morning when the shower fogs up my reflection. I picked myself up off the floor, and put myself back together, and I have been committed to healing since. A large part of that process has been forgiving myself for not being perfect, and for ever trying to be. And another part has been accepting that I need to take care of my creativity as though it is a gift, but also, that it will never be easy, and there must always be balance.

At the end of 2018, I started a local project, planning to host events and help businesses and artists promote their work. But I wasn’t ready and this town was too much for me to handle in all it’s trashy glory at the time. So I went to a bunch of random interviews, turning down a job as a funeral salesperson and then as the boss of a tanning salon, to become a manager in a restaurant at the local casino. I thought maybe the rush of lights and sound and working in hospitality again might be good for me - but I was wrong. So then I spent the next few months buying too many new domains and dreaming up a million different side projects ranging from branding myself as a mindfulness mentor to selling physical products, and eventually, planning to launch an online course with a new blog, which was totally ready to go until a little voice in my head screamed for me to stop.

And when that happens, we all know, you have to listen.
My intuition told me to pay attention to what I really wanted,
to write without fear of repercussions, and to use my own name.
So here we are.


•• w h y •••

I've chosen to become a creator on Patreon for several reasons but the main one is mind-numbingly simple: I want to create.

Far away in a magical land we called MySpace, I began this journey of putting myself out into the world, unfiltered, in the form of a blog. Therefore, it was long ago that I learned to welcome criticism as both an introspective mirror and also, an opportunity to hear the emotional perspective of someone I had power over, if even just for a moment, with my words. That being said, I have definitely received my fair share of it and probably then some. But for every hateful message full of venom or judgement, I have also received just as many love letters, from people who were moved by something I said. They tell me I made them feel less alone, or that I said everything they couldn't, or that they cried their eyes out and had to find me to thank me. But the response that has always stopped me in my tracks though, is one that still seems to carry a warning in it, a foreshadowing almost. So many times people have quite literally begged me to please never stop writing, whether that is their entire message or the beginning or the end, they say it with such urgency that sometimes, it scares me. And admittedly, it's usually been at times when I was very close to doing just that.

It's never the writing, or the creation of art, that I hate. It's the rest of it. The marketing, the way my mind gets ahold of an impulsive idea and just because I 'can' do it, next thing you know I'm running a bakery or changing my brand or deciding to take a totally different path. And I question myself. I have an really bad habit of needing to put my work into boxes, and package it up neat with a little label, and I think entirely too much about how it will be consumed, or whether it will be understood, so I trip over myself trying to explain it and I get so hung up in the details of the overall concept that eventually, I'm either burnt out or I'm sitting on 70,000 photos that have never been shared in any way, shape, or form (true story). And what good are words that never have a chance to be read? How many words is a picture worth if it's never seen?
The pursuit of perfectionism is absolutely a disease, and I am beyond over it.

As a creator, Patreon gives me the freedom to bring to life all my ideas without elaborate presentation, and without as much of the associated risk, which breeds fear and kills creativity. It also offers me stability, and in a strange way maybe, keeps me grounded.
I have looked myself dead in the eyes before in a mirror and asked why the hell I can treat a 9-5 job like it's more important than my talent and the creative work I can produce, and I've got nothing. My best answer is that I have trouble taking myself seriously, as a female artist with children. In today's world, I know I am not alone in that feeling, but I hate it nonetheless.
Patreon allows me to commit myself fully to my creative work, as much as I would and with more passion than I would, as an employee. My presence on this platform is a mixture of me calling my shots and also, I suppose, taking a leap of faith into the arms of my audience.
I want to create, and I want to freefall, and I want to trust the universe to catch me. 

But my favorite part of Patreon as a platform is the exclusive access it gives you as a fan. It lets me build a better relationship with you, sharing behind the scenes content, chatting about the geeky parts of my creative process, even inspiring me to make custom content when all our ideas and your invaluable feedback are thrown into the mix. In the patron-only feed, I can share things that I might not want to put out into such a public space like Twitter or Instagram, and we can also cultivate a positive community here based around the concepts in my writing and photography and creativity in general.

If you are unfamiliar with Patreon, there are currently more than 100,000 creators here, and over 2 MILLION supporters. They explain all the details here, but to simplify here is how it works: You create an account (you can be anonymous), connect your Paypal or credit card to their secure servers and you are charged only $1 (or more, if you are generous) every month, which goes towards supporting me (and any of my collaborators) in my creative efforts. Your membership (you can cancel anytime, but like, psh..) offers you awesome and exclusive access to content not found anywhere else, and occasionally patron-only invites and gifts and discounts and other things to express my undying love and all that. It helps me to pay for everything it takes to create my art, and in general, supports my ability to run my business and grow it.

It's so beautiful to me that I get to offer the world what I have in this way, and I am thankful beyond words for those of you who believe in me more than I sometimes believe in myself. I hope you know just how much I appreciate you, no matter what tier you pledge, or how long you have been in my life. I write for myself, yes, and I share it because it has to flow outward. But it's your reception, and acceptance, and love, that makes it pure magic.
You encourage my heart.
Thank you, thank you, thank you for joining me!

xo,
Josi Denise
Tiers
crush ❤
$1 or more per month

I see you! Thank you so much for supporting what I do and encouraging more content you can crush on.

For a hundred shiny pennies a month, you get:

• Complete access to my patron-only feed, with behind-the-scenes and work-in-progress content updated regularly
• Occasional patron-only invites, gifts, discounts, and giveaways
• Early access to certain projects before they go public, opportunity to provide feedback
• My sincere appreciation and gratitude

partner in crime ❤
$5 or more per month

Whoa. You're the best! Thank you for being such a loyal reader and sticking by my side and believing in me through all my artistic ups and downs and ins and outs. I love being in this with you.

For $5 month, your membership will include:

• Complete access to my patron-only feed, with behind-the-scenes and work-in-progress content updated regularly

• Everything in the previous tier
• Random surprises in your email! Personal notes, extras about whatever project I am working on, funny gifs I find relevant/totally irrelevant.
• Guinea pig status for anything I am not quite sure about yet, new looks, new creative ideas, new types of content - I want your opinion! 

postcard love !Special Offer • 3 days left
For a limited time, if you join this tier, you'll receive a postcard with a handwritten note.
muse ❤
$25 or more per month

I am seriously honored by your generosity, and your willingness to support an artist on this level. The world needs more people like you that are willing to devote themselves to creativity.

For $25 a month, I will do my best to make it worthwhile!

• Complete access to my patron-only feed, with behind-the-scenes and work-in-progress content updated regularly

• Everything in the previous tiers
Handwritten snail mail or a physical piece of art sent out from me to you, every month!

• Random shoutouts on social media, credits in some blog posts, your name in lights on the big flashing marquee out front, darlin' (ok, jk about that last one, but the digital equivalent, you bet)

Q&A sessions, opportunities to give your input on upcoming work


**THIS HAS LIMITED SPOTS**, I AM HUMAN AND HAVE YOU EVER HANDWRITTEN SO MANY CARDS? NO? K THX LOVE YOU BYE**

postcard love !Special Offer • 3 days left
For a limited time, if you join this tier, you'll receive a postcard with a handwritten note.
Goals
6 of 100 patrons
When I make it to 100 patrons, I will set a consistent schedule and promise to create a minimum of 8 new blog posts per month.
1 of 4
"her new namesake blog is worth reading in full"
- lara o'reilly, business insider

"darkly funny and impassioned"
- james wilkinson, daily mail

"positively the most profound and moving piece i've read in a very long time. exquisite."
-sarah, reader, us

"someone I can relate to. thanks for reminding us that life is rarely picture perfect."
-carmen, reader, nova scotia

"best story of the day"
-jim edwards, founding editor, business insider uk

••• w h o •••

Hey, you.

I'm Josi.
Restless creative,
recovering perfectionist,
mischievous child of
the universe.

For half my life,
I have been spilling myself
all over the internet
in an insatiable attempt to
make some kinda sense.

Because I breathe, I write.
And since you're here,
please know you may take
whatever you need
from my words.


••• w h a t •••

While I have been blogging since I was 15, very little of my work remains published.
One reason is that I am a firm believer in a few small, but significant, facts:

1, everything is temporary
2. we are here for only as long as we are supposed to be
3. our purpose is to create and connect

JosiDenise.com began as Miss Josi Denise in 2013, when I thought I had the world figured out and derailed my director level career in hospitality marketing to become a full-time mother. In 2014, I rebranded my little creative endeavor as The American Mama, and began sprinkling in sponsored posts among my candid, sunshine-filled stories about raising children in Miami Beach. For two years, I grew my following from 10 readers a month to more than 375,000, and before 'influencer' was even a word, I had thousands of people devouring details of my life on social media, and eventually dozens of nationally recognized brands paid me to feature their products and services through my writing and photos.

Then in 2015, I snapped. Three little ones strapped into carseats, I drove 16 hours out of Florida to the safe haven of my hometown, and filed for divorce. My blog dragged along for the ride, growing quieter by the month as the pressures of my reality slowly killed me. You see, my audience at the time was built around a lifestyle. But the truth is, I was only writing half the picture, because I lived in constant fear of emotional abuse. I have often wondered if my cheerful representation of everything was in actuality, a desperate attempt to manifest perfection. If I present this image of myself and my reality, and hide all the pain, will it make it better? If I cover up the chaos, and play along with this game of status and likes, will I have a happy marriage? I never lied, but when you are being paid to share snippets of your days that seem to be filled with endless family activities, luxurious travel, and endless cookie-baking, it's just really hard to flip a switch and admit that I was also popping prescribed anxiety pills and planning an escape.

So I didn't, until I did. One Friday night in the spring of 2016, I was pregnant with my fourth child, living with my best friend that had stolen my heart at 17, and laying on the dirty carpet of our hand-me-down doublewide trailer. I looked up at my love, and just knew -- I couldn't do it anymore. I still had women emailing me very passionately-worded first-world expressions of their dissatisfaction with my chicken recipes or whatever, and I was still battling tooth and nail with the state of Indiana against my ex-husband to grant me freedom and let me keep custody of my children. Since changing my url to JosiDenise.com a few months prior, I had written a few raw posts, including a post about child support that was shared almost a million times, but I felt like I needed to fully write my truths, so the plan was that my 'new' blog would be brave, genuine, and unfiltered creative work. And my first post was going to be a letter to myself, expressing my frustration with the industry at the time and the bubble I was writing in, and essentially - killing off The American Mama. So, I wrote this venting rant in less than an hour, and titled it the way most brands were pitching women with children and blogs at the time:
Dear Mommy Blogger. Then I went to sleep.

When I woke up on Saturday, I had an email from Business Insider. Then, Good Morning America called me, and somehow all of my relatives, until they got me on the air. Over the next two weeks, I was featured in, talked about, or contacted by The New York Post, The Daily Mail, Tech Insider, Post Secret, TIME, The Daily Dot, Nightline, Cosmopolitan, NBC Today Show, US Weekly, The Tomi Lahren Show, Breitbart, AOL news (which is apparently still a thing), The Independent Journal Review, and ....deep breath... and Inkwell Management in NYC, the literary agency of the late and amazing Anthony Bourdain. Later, I was also featured in Forbes, and flown to Los Angeles to film the pilot episode of The Morgan Spurlock Show, which then never aired because he tweeted his guilt in the #metoo and crashed his supersize career. In addition to the shitstorm of virality in national media, there were probably at least 200 blog posts and tabloids written about me, half wanting to burn me at the stake and the other half drowning me in praise.
To say it was overwhelming is an understatement. And unlike Chewbacca Mom, who was making headlines at the same time, I definitely did not get any full-ride scholarships or bendable action figures out of the deal. In fact, I kind of wanted to disappear, and never blog again.

Between then and now, I attempted (and failed) to write a politically fueled memoir about living in the midwest during the election, I started (and never finished) a rather dark photo series capturing the depressing parts of culture in the rust belt, and I erased tens of thousands of photos and posts from my Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and blog in both an exaggerated effort to protect my children and also to avoid the impact of harassment in my personal life. In 2017, I became a minimalist, sold almost all of my material possessions in a yard sale, and roadtripped across the country, eloping in Vegas along the way and traveling up the Pacific Coast Highway with all of our things in a plywood box that we built in the back of our pickup truck. We settled outside of Seattle for a year, where I spent most of my time in psychiatry offices and trying to breathe in MRI machines, but also experimented with poetry, conceptual photography, and even erotica. But Instagram kept removing my pictures no matter how many likes they got, and behind the art, I was struggling to keep my life together.

In the heat of July, I woke up alone and out of breath on a popped air mattress a few miles north of Kentucky — which I'm pretty sure is exactly what people mean when they use the term rock bottom. But during that time, I scribbled a note on a ripped piece of paper that I keep in my journal to this day: Write for Yourself. And on my bathroom mirror, there’s still a ghost of lipstick reminding me to ‘try again’ every morning when the shower fogs up my reflection. I picked myself up off the floor, and put myself back together, and I have been committed to healing since. A large part of that process has been forgiving myself for not being perfect, and for ever trying to be. And another part has been accepting that I need to take care of my creativity as though it is a gift, but also, that it will never be easy, and there must always be balance.

At the end of 2018, I started a local project, planning to host events and help businesses and artists promote their work. But I wasn’t ready and this town was too much for me to handle in all it’s trashy glory at the time. So I went to a bunch of random interviews, turning down a job as a funeral salesperson and then as the boss of a tanning salon, to become a manager in a restaurant at the local casino. I thought maybe the rush of lights and sound and working in hospitality again might be good for me - but I was wrong. So then I spent the next few months buying too many new domains and dreaming up a million different side projects ranging from branding myself as a mindfulness mentor to selling physical products, and eventually, planning to launch an online course with a new blog, which was totally ready to go until a little voice in my head screamed for me to stop.

And when that happens, we all know, you have to listen.
My intuition told me to pay attention to what I really wanted,
to write without fear of repercussions, and to use my own name.
So here we are.


•• w h y •••

I've chosen to become a creator on Patreon for several reasons but the main one is mind-numbingly simple: I want to create.

Far away in a magical land we called MySpace, I began this journey of putting myself out into the world, unfiltered, in the form of a blog. Therefore, it was long ago that I learned to welcome criticism as both an introspective mirror and also, an opportunity to hear the emotional perspective of someone I had power over, if even just for a moment, with my words. That being said, I have definitely received my fair share of it and probably then some. But for every hateful message full of venom or judgement, I have also received just as many love letters, from people who were moved by something I said. They tell me I made them feel less alone, or that I said everything they couldn't, or that they cried their eyes out and had to find me to thank me. But the response that has always stopped me in my tracks though, is one that still seems to carry a warning in it, a foreshadowing almost. So many times people have quite literally begged me to please never stop writing, whether that is their entire message or the beginning or the end, they say it with such urgency that sometimes, it scares me. And admittedly, it's usually been at times when I was very close to doing just that.

It's never the writing, or the creation of art, that I hate. It's the rest of it. The marketing, the way my mind gets ahold of an impulsive idea and just because I 'can' do it, next thing you know I'm running a bakery or changing my brand or deciding to take a totally different path. And I question myself. I have an really bad habit of needing to put my work into boxes, and package it up neat with a little label, and I think entirely too much about how it will be consumed, or whether it will be understood, so I trip over myself trying to explain it and I get so hung up in the details of the overall concept that eventually, I'm either burnt out or I'm sitting on 70,000 photos that have never been shared in any way, shape, or form (true story). And what good are words that never have a chance to be read? How many words is a picture worth if it's never seen?
The pursuit of perfectionism is absolutely a disease, and I am beyond over it.

As a creator, Patreon gives me the freedom to bring to life all my ideas without elaborate presentation, and without as much of the associated risk, which breeds fear and kills creativity. It also offers me stability, and in a strange way maybe, keeps me grounded.
I have looked myself dead in the eyes before in a mirror and asked why the hell I can treat a 9-5 job like it's more important than my talent and the creative work I can produce, and I've got nothing. My best answer is that I have trouble taking myself seriously, as a female artist with children. In today's world, I know I am not alone in that feeling, but I hate it nonetheless.
Patreon allows me to commit myself fully to my creative work, as much as I would and with more passion than I would, as an employee. My presence on this platform is a mixture of me calling my shots and also, I suppose, taking a leap of faith into the arms of my audience.
I want to create, and I want to freefall, and I want to trust the universe to catch me. 

But my favorite part of Patreon as a platform is the exclusive access it gives you as a fan. It lets me build a better relationship with you, sharing behind the scenes content, chatting about the geeky parts of my creative process, even inspiring me to make custom content when all our ideas and your invaluable feedback are thrown into the mix. In the patron-only feed, I can share things that I might not want to put out into such a public space like Twitter or Instagram, and we can also cultivate a positive community here based around the concepts in my writing and photography and creativity in general.

If you are unfamiliar with Patreon, there are currently more than 100,000 creators here, and over 2 MILLION supporters. They explain all the details here, but to simplify here is how it works: You create an account (you can be anonymous), connect your Paypal or credit card to their secure servers and you are charged only $1 (or more, if you are generous) every month, which goes towards supporting me (and any of my collaborators) in my creative efforts. Your membership (you can cancel anytime, but like, psh..) offers you awesome and exclusive access to content not found anywhere else, and occasionally patron-only invites and gifts and discounts and other things to express my undying love and all that. It helps me to pay for everything it takes to create my art, and in general, supports my ability to run my business and grow it.

It's so beautiful to me that I get to offer the world what I have in this way, and I am thankful beyond words for those of you who believe in me more than I sometimes believe in myself. I hope you know just how much I appreciate you, no matter what tier you pledge, or how long you have been in my life. I write for myself, yes, and I share it because it has to flow outward. But it's your reception, and acceptance, and love, that makes it pure magic.
You encourage my heart.
Thank you, thank you, thank you for joining me!

xo,
Josi Denise

Recent posts by Josi Denise

Josi Denise has a Special Offer until April 21st
Tiers
crush ❤
$1 or more per month

I see you! Thank you so much for supporting what I do and encouraging more content you can crush on.

For a hundred shiny pennies a month, you get:

• Complete access to my patron-only feed, with behind-the-scenes and work-in-progress content updated regularly
• Occasional patron-only invites, gifts, discounts, and giveaways
• Early access to certain projects before they go public, opportunity to provide feedback
• My sincere appreciation and gratitude

partner in crime ❤
$5 or more per month

Whoa. You're the best! Thank you for being such a loyal reader and sticking by my side and believing in me through all my artistic ups and downs and ins and outs. I love being in this with you.

For $5 month, your membership will include:

• Complete access to my patron-only feed, with behind-the-scenes and work-in-progress content updated regularly

• Everything in the previous tier
• Random surprises in your email! Personal notes, extras about whatever project I am working on, funny gifs I find relevant/totally irrelevant.
• Guinea pig status for anything I am not quite sure about yet, new looks, new creative ideas, new types of content - I want your opinion! 

postcard love !Special Offer • 3 days left
For a limited time, if you join this tier, you'll receive a postcard with a handwritten note.
muse ❤
$25 or more per month

I am seriously honored by your generosity, and your willingness to support an artist on this level. The world needs more people like you that are willing to devote themselves to creativity.

For $25 a month, I will do my best to make it worthwhile!

• Complete access to my patron-only feed, with behind-the-scenes and work-in-progress content updated regularly

• Everything in the previous tiers
Handwritten snail mail or a physical piece of art sent out from me to you, every month!

• Random shoutouts on social media, credits in some blog posts, your name in lights on the big flashing marquee out front, darlin' (ok, jk about that last one, but the digital equivalent, you bet)

Q&A sessions, opportunities to give your input on upcoming work


**THIS HAS LIMITED SPOTS**, I AM HUMAN AND HAVE YOU EVER HANDWRITTEN SO MANY CARDS? NO? K THX LOVE YOU BYE**

postcard love !Special Offer • 3 days left
For a limited time, if you join this tier, you'll receive a postcard with a handwritten note.