#BeReal – KARIN BOLE TUPPER

#BeReal – KARIN BOLE TUPPER

This was really fun and a positive message. I was featured in a guest post at HastyWords blog on WordPress as part of her push to further the #BeReal campaign.
If you click through, you can read my off-the-cuff and of course, nose-thumbing poem about keeping it real, “My Rebel Prayer”.

HASTYWORDS

My #BeReal guest today is Karin Bole Tupper.

I am very excited to share Karin’s poetry with you today.  May we take a few risks and enjoy the life we have.

Thank you Karin for this amazing poem.

NOTE:
If you have poetry that fits the #BeReal theme link it up using the blue button with the frog on it at the bottom of this post.


Photo on 2013-07-31 at 1#2

Karin (The Eclectic Poet)
~~~
Poem:
My Rebel Prayer

Think I’d rather risk a wrinkle
Than turn away from the sun

Indian, Thai and fajitas are why
Someone invented tums

I’ve yet to see a gal get a medal
For avoiding MAC and Revlon

Au naturel hair or organic
Doesn’t make you a better person

Just say “No” to crocs and ‘stocks
Why give up Converse and heels

And a minivan equals relaxed fit
Remember how a ’79 Berlinetta feels?

I adore you Mozart…

View original post 244 more words

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#BeReal

It’s back again! #BeReal

If only that applied to humans and not just memes…

I’m 100% that chick in the photos. No makeup, just the face I was born with.

I’m proud to be one of the few women who doesn’t hide behind a fake name or a faery gravatar. I am Karin Bole Tupper and this is my face. Thank you to my amazing daughter for encouraging me when my upbringing, environment or circumstances, make me feel unattractive or unworthy.

Apparently, I’m doing something right and kisses to one of the two most amazing people on this earth!

#DontJudgeMeChallenge #BeReal

Just Me

What’s Important…

The article and more photos can be found here.

My humble opinion? Let it never be said that I squandered my Present by worrying about my outward appearance in the Future.
(and I hope I look as effing fabulous as this model some day)

I gotta say: it’s a sad commentary on humanity when tattoos, an “older” woman with hair longer than her ears, or dressing unconventionally; generates more discussion, outrage, or unsolicited opinion than say, unsafe drinking water, the corruption of religious and political leaders or child abuse…

From Buzzfeed article tattoo

Just a quick note: I’ve been finding it hard to catch up on my reading and responding on WordPress. Some of you know that I have a two other active blogs, a full and a part time job and a family. The volume of wonderful posts is sometimes overwhelming, especially when my M.E. kicks up and I hope you’ll forgive me if I miss something. Always know that your visits are what keeps me going  and are very much appreciated. ~ kei

I’m A Mocker

Daily Prompt: New Sensation

From “A Hard Day’s Night” with The Beatles, 1964
Reporter: Are you a mod or a rocker? Ringo: Um, no. I’m a mocker.

I’m all over that! Jump on that bandwagon! Gotta get me some of that! I LOVE your hair, where do you go?
Fads, trends, we all subscribe or fall victim, as the case may be, to some form of them at some point in our life.
Fashion fads are easy for people around us to attack, they’re right there for anyone to see and judge. Does anyone else feel the irony of the blatant disregard for the golden rule of “Don’t judge a book by its cover”? We all of us do just that every day though, don’t we? I’m often tempted, when a stranger offers their opinion on my appearance to ask, “Are you this rude and judgemental with every stranger you meet or am I a special case?”
Trends serve a useful purpose. Yes. Yes, they do. In our teen years, in particular, when we are striving to find a place for ourselves outside the safe boundaries of family and close community. Being part of an identifiable group – usually identifiable by the clothes they wear – is a safe way to push those boundaries a little, while still feeling as part of a whole.
I’ve always believed that it’s important to respect the choices about appearance that others make. We don’t judge a person’s intellect, ambition or dependability based upon their choice of vehicle. Why do that based upon their outward appearance? This is not to say that certain professions and industries should not be allowed to establish their own dress codes. I don’t expect the world to bend for me. I do expect to not be marginalized or disrespected because I wear my hair differently than the majority.
The world can’t spend so much time nurturing and developing individuality in its children, only to quash it at the moment that our kid comes home with a blue Mohawk. Talk about a mixed message! See reference to “the golden rule” above. What is the worst that can happen? Your son has his nosed pierced at his high school graduation? If that’s the focus, you’ve missed the point. Your child is graduating! As a parent, I drew the line for certain types of fashion and adornment. I explained my position and was open to discussion and debate, as it came up. For the most part, this was respected and worked very well.
My own trend following actually is part of who I am. Like my taste in music, it hasn’t altered much over the years. I grew and matured, have held highly professional jobs. At the same time, I was able to preserve the uniqueness – fad, if you will – of me. I’ve grown to call this “playing the game” and it helps me to maintain a definition of myself that I like and yet to fit in amongst folk who are inclined to forget that they too, have and do follow fads. I don’t see anyone still wearing culottes or fedoras and so…
The most denigrated fads and trends these days are still tattooing and piercing. It should be pointed out that tattooing, with its lengthy history among many cultures and eras, can hardly be called a fad. In the Twenties, many (many) respectable women were having tattoos done. Like other “Power Periods” for women, the Forties, the Eighties; fashion extremes reflected a power shift. The Twenties is the time where colourful nail polish was born. There are countless examples of how fashion, body adornment, music, even makeup styles have been created and recreated. You’ve seen the eyebrows of the mid-two thousands, right?
The real question posed by today’s prompt was what trends did you follow? I grew up in a very fluid time for these things and as an adult, I embrace many still. If you ask me the name of my social tribe, I am a “Punk Rocker”. The grandmother of Romantic, Goth, Emo, et al. I’m pretty sure that my high top Cons and Ramones tee shirts were a little disconcerting to the rest of the PTA but I “played the game”. I no longer sport all the outward accoutrements but much of it, like the music is still very much a part of who I am.
Fad? Don’t think so. We’re going on thirty years with this particular style. We gather likeminded people, there are no “Posers”. Am I a poser because I like my Dad’s Led Zeppelin or my Mum’s Queen? Not even a little bit. Fads are pokemon cards and crazy bones. Style; whatever that may be for you, is simply a nod to one small piece of many that can connect us to each other.
~ kei
20 February 2014 (Oops! I wrote an essay)

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/02/20/daily-prompt-new-sensation/

Cons and Pointes

tatoos-and-the-workplace

Thinner

I’ve been sick for quite a while now.

Bodies are amazing things, both in the way they can perform such incredible feats and in the way they can be their own weapon of mass destruction.
As I’m slowly making a recovery, I can see that I’ve lost weight. Not a huge amount, perhaps 10 pounds. It shows in the loss of my cheeks and breasts mostly. I don’t like the thinness of my face, It makes me look old I think. I am feeling a somewhat perverse pleasure at seeing the reemergence of my hipbones and being able to fasten my bra one hook tighter.

I was a ballerina when I was younger.

I suffered from anorexia, or if the truth be told, I had a love affair with anorexia. It is after all, that bar to pass for so many dancers. The less of me there was, the more ethereal I felt. Every cigarette, every cup of black coffee brought me closer to my ideal and I loved that pas de deux with my twisted perception. Many things helped me to recover eventually. Love, maturity, injury that meant teaching and not The Corps, a wish for children.

I must admit a truth though.

As the pounds fall away, it feels like my body had become its own archaeologist. Working from the inside out, using tools with Latin names. Delicately chipping, digging, brushing away… the accumulated layers of me. I like seeing the long-buried bones of the ballerina emerge and the feeling that…

I’m finally getting to the core of me.

~ kei
11 December 2013

 

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