rejecting myself as a writer

welcome to the double gemini newsletter

a photo of myself, at the banks of the eel river

Hullo!

Welcome to the new iteration of the Stained Ghost Art Magic Newsletter, now coming at you from Substack as “Double Gemini,” here to celebrate many of the things I’ve explored over the years through Double Peace Studio, Wave & Grove and Stained Ghost—musings on art, nature, community, fashion, communications, and creativity, as well as my art, creativity and vintage offerings through Stained Ghost, and Society of Air, my communications support project for artists, healers, small business owners and social change makers.

If this is an offering you are not feeling, please feel free to unsubscribe—honoring our boundaries and needs is great and I welcome it! And if you stick around, or unsubscribe and decide to come back at some point, thank you for taking in this energy and thought exchange. 

Below you will see a few different sections in which I’ll be regularly sharing inspiration, offers, recommendations and more.

My aim is to share Double Gemini weekly, on Fridays, with the intent of inspiring, supporting and encouraging you to live your brightest, most joyful, truest life as a creative being. Because we all do better when we all do better, and YOU, my friend, and what you bring to this plane, are pure magic that the world needs.

That said, in this container, I’m embracing one of my favorite forms of communication (writing), stepping up to a growth edge of sharing my voice. 

If you’ve been taking in my newsletters over the years or writing on blogs and for publications, it may seem…odd for me to say that “sharing my voice” is a growth edge. Because I’ve been doing just that for years. 

But not entirely. 

Because, dear reader, at the same time that I’ve been cranking out SO much copy about offerings and what I’m thinking about, I’ve been rejecting myself as a writer. Considering this move to a more personal, longer form, writing-centric platform has pushed me to reflect on this and why that is. So…here we go. 

I can pinpoint my rejection of myself “as a writer” back to a time in which I was actually working as a writer in Minneapolis. I had finished my grad school program in communications, and was determined, somehow, to “make it doing my own thing”… which resulted in a lot of unpaid and very low-wage labor. I’d work for pennies on the hour for some pieces, including national publications, and eventually, I burnt out and found myself getting a “real” job. It was, however, long before this that I had begun cringing over the identification of being “a writer.”

Part of this was due to my (very limited) experience in seeing who writers were. I certainly did not know anyone who was a writer, by vocation or hobby, in the cultural waste land of Green Bay, WI where I grew up. And so, my impression of “writers” was very much skewed by what I saw on tv, movies and in mass media. This was further supported by the rather flat generalization I picked up about writers living in Minneapolis, which I can best describe as “nerdy Minnesotan progressives who love MPR.” 

These writers loved the New York Times, and authors that I was vaguely aware of but never actually read, or tried to read, or did read and was always left with this sense of “that’s it?”—David Sedaris and Zadie Smith come to mind (and apologies to anyone who enjoys these authors, as this is coming from a very limited experience with each, more of a cultural phenomenon of who the “cool” authors seemed to be in 2010). They always had glasses and were impeccable in their grammar and pronunciation (because, after all, writers weren’t just about the written word, they were also about being incredibly eloquent and intelligent-sounding when they spoke, of which I felt I was neither.) 

This was not me. 

And what was more, I was plagued with this sense that if I was a writer, then I could not be a visual artist, which I desperately longed to be (and now know I was, and always have been…but that’s a story for another time). Because when you are a “creative,” you fit neatly into a box so that people understand you and what you do. 

It wasn’t just about feeling uneasy about the title of “writer”; it also had to do with feeling like it was not actually right to share my voice, that there was something wrong with it. 

One of my first memories of writing something was actually a comic strip, based on the Pink Panther. I remember being really proud of it—I can’t remember the content, but I recall it dealing with some deep life mystery in a way that I thought was really witty. I showed it to my mother, thinking she’d be all, “Hurrah! You are such an intelligent and insightful child!,” and instead, she was absolutely terrified of what she read. (Which makes me wish even more I remember what it said).

And thus, the message began that sharing my voice was something that was suspect, wrong, that made people feel bad, or offended.

This message grew stronger as I grew older, being criticized, ridiculed and dismissed by my conservative family and those around me for my progressive values, and for “being judgemental” of what I did not agree with, especially with the teenagers in my Catholic high school. 

The feeling that if I didn’t know everything, I didn’t know anything and thus, I had no right to speak on any sort of topic, was also pervasive. It was easy for people to “out debate me” because I was taught from that very young age to stay small and not share my voice, or try to “argue,” because it was dangerous and wrong. 

So, when I was sharing my writing with the world, I dabbled in the “safe” places, but even there there was contention and people who would call me out or disagree with things that I was saying, and after a while, it just seemed better to not participate at all—or when I did participate, to be as flat as possible. 

And then that made me feel terrible because I wasn’t being “radical enough” or “using my voice” enough to stand up for what I believed in. Instead, I was settling happily in my privilege, being a white, CIS, hetero-appearing, non-disabled, educated woman coming from a resourced family and a citizen of the country I reside in, of not having to speak up. I felt stretched between having something “wrong” with me for not identifying with my conservative upbringing and for not proving that I was “radical enough” in progressive spaces. I couldn’t win.

But maybe it’s not about “winning.” Maybe it’s about being open to not being perfect, to not having all the answers, or all the information, and being okay with the imperfect, growing, changing. And maybe the best way for us to do this is for all of us to be able to share our authentic voices and to learn from one another.

There have been times over the past few years, since I moved to California, that I have shared more personally in my newsletters, but those tend to be few and far between. Mostly it seemed somewhat okay for me to promote what I’ve been working on, which honestly that in itself has even been a growth edge as I’ve come to terms with working as an artist in late stage capitalism. 

And so here you are witnessing my re-stepping into my role as a writer, and an artist, and a community builder, and a communications practitioner, and a person who is committed to creating a better world for us all. 

I’m very grateful for the people whose work has inspired me in making this step. Marlee Grace’s work in particular has been instrumental in seeing Substack, and the newsletter, as being part of my practice. I highly recommend checking out their work, including their weekly Monday, Monday newsletter and their podcast Common Shapes, if you aren’t already aware of it. And if you are interested in exploring newsletters as a form of art practice, definitely check out their Skillshare class on creating a Substack newsletter. Thank you, Marlee, for your encouragement and the work that you were doing in the world!

So…gentle reader, if you are struggling to share your voice, or figuring out what your identity as an artist is, I SEE YOU. And I offer this reflection: 

What ways are you holding yourself back as an artist bc you don’t identify with how you’ve seen it presented or because you received the message that it was somehow not “right”?

this week in…

communications support from society of air

new episodes of grounding visions

The Grounding Visions podcast from Society of Air is NOW LIVE and here to support you in sharing your work with the world in a way that feels aligned, authentic and even enjoyable.

So far, you can check out:

• The "Welcome to Grounding Visions" mini-episode, where I share more about my framework, what the podcast is all about and why I believe it is important

• "A Permission Slip to be Imperfect," all about perfectionism and the ways in which you may be staying small in sharing your work because of it—and a few tips on how to move through to the other side (woo hoo!)

Listen to Grounding Visions: on Apple Podcasts | on Spotify

one-on-one communications consulting

Looking for personalized communications support in sharing your work with the world? Kick off 2024 with direct support that prioritizes and honors your needs, authenticity and vision. Learn more about creating your unique roadmap to sharing your magic here.

art fun

painting with plants

intuitive painting workshop, Thursday, Dec. 14

5-7 p.m. at the Makers Space in McKinleyville

If you’ve been waiting for “Painting with Plants” to come to Humboldt, you are in luck! Join me Dec. 14 at the Makers Space for a journey into intuitive painting, aided by the energies of flower essences!

Learn more and sign up to paint with plants on Dec. 14 (space is limited!)

a photo of the stormy sky, above our neighbors’ home in eureka

living in place

looking at the sky (a practice)

How often do you look at the sky?

For me, it’s one of the easiest, most accessible ways to feel (perhaps somewhat paradoxically) grounded. Looking at the sky, tumultuous storm clouds, the hazy sunset, the bright beginnings of a new day, the stars and moon at the end of night when I bring the dogs out, continues to be a moment of quiet, of bliss, of knowing that we are part of this larger world.

May the sky bring you comfort in knowing you are not alone.

lovin’

Tending the Garden documentary

This amazing doc from Claire Weissbluth following three regenerative cannabis family farms gave me so much hope in our ability to create a better future.

Always Coming Home by Ursula K. LeGuin

Centered around a peaceful, matriarchal society inhabiting California in the “far, far future,” Always Coming Home paints a picture, not of a nihilistic dystopia, but one of connection and beauty.

“Spring Break” episode of Northern Exposure

I adore the 90’s show Northern Exposure—it is a balm for the soul and is proof (to me) that television can indeed be medicine.

“Spring Break” (no. 5 of season 2) centers around the inhabitants of Cecily, Alaska losing their shit as spring is on the brink. It’s fabulous.

Thanks for taking these thoughts in! Hope everyone has a wonderful week and restorative weekend!

xo—Holly

let’s connect!

interwebs: stainedghost.com

ig: @stainedghost

p.s. if you are in a space—and would like to— support my work financially, you will also enjoy:

• a weekly Society of Air Circle thread for posting your practice/work/life goals and intentions for the week—and sharing how the week prior went. Virtual accountability buddies for all!

• a monthly “Creators Support Group” zoom call for artists, small biz owners, healers and social change makers looking to connect, and find—and give—encouragement and support with others doing rad things in the world

• discounts on creative and communications support offerings

and more!

join this month’s creators support group call

thursday 19.december.23 at noon pst on zoom