Some of my favourite creations….hope you all enjoy them because I thought they came out beautiful.😊😊😊



















I’ve always seen the world through a lens—literally, with my camera, and figuratively, in how I chase truth and individuality. Lately, I’ve been grappling with how woke ideology is unraveling our societies, sowing division, and stifling honest expression. It’s a problem that demands action, and as I think about how to confront it, I find myself considering how someone like a well-known Scottish actor and community-builder might approach it too—not what he thinks, but how he’d tackle it, based on his grounded, resilient way of living. Our approaches, mine through storytelling and his through fostering connection, point to a way to push back with truth and courage.
For me, woke ideology is a trap. It promises justice but delivers conformity, reducing people to labels and punishing those who dare speak freely. I see it in the hesitation before someone shares a thought, the fear of being “canceled” for a misstep. As someone who values the raw, unfiltered moments I capture in photographs or the stories I dream up under Scotland’s vast skies, this feels like a theft of our humanity. My approach is to resist by staying true to myself—creating art that reflects reality, speaking my mind even when it’s risky, and treating people as individuals, not categories.
The Scottish actor’s approach, from what I see, would likely center on action and connection. He’s someone who meets challenges head-on, whether it’s building a fitness community or pouring his heart into storytelling on screen. He doesn’t seem to dwell on complaints; he creates. If faced with something like woke ideology, I imagine he’d focus on fostering spaces where people can come together authentically. His work with a whisky brand, for instance, isn’t just about a product—it’s about shared experiences, stories swapped over a dram. That’s a quiet but powerful way to counter division.
Where our approaches align is in prioritizing what’s real over what’s performative. I resist woke ideology by refusing to play its game—by making art that doesn’t bend to trends, by having conversations that cut through dogma. He, I think, does this by staying rooted. His commitment to Scotland, from his charity work to his love for its landscapes, shows a man who values substance over fleeting fads. If he were to tackle this issue, he’d likely keep doing what he does best: building communities that celebrate what unites us, not what tears us apart.
How do we defeat this ideology? My way is to live unapologetically. I pour my heart into my photography, even when the world nudges me toward my cybersecurity degree. I speak up, messy as it may be, because silence lets fear win. I seek out real connections—friends, strangers, anyone willing to talk honestly over coffee or a Highland trail. His approach, I suspect, would lean on his knack for rallying people. Look at how he’s united fans and athletes worldwide through shared goals—fitness, storytelling, or just a love for Scotland. If he were confronting this ideology, he might create more spaces like these, where people can be themselves without judgment, where a good laugh or a deep chat trumps moral policing.
We’d both agree, I think, on the need to rebuild trust. Woke ideology thrives on suspicion, convincing us we’re enemies before we’ve met. My response is to double down on human connection—sharing a story, listening to someone’s truth, finding common ground. His way seems to be through action that inspires. His fitness challenges or fan events aren’t just events; they’re proof that people can come together despite differences. If he were tackling this issue, he’d probably keep fostering those moments—maybe a whisky tasting, maybe a charity hike—where people remember what it’s like to just be together.
Free speech is non-negotiable for me. I’ve always felt driven to say what’s on my heart, whether it’s about life, love, or the world’s chaos. I fight woke ideology by refusing to self-censor, by embracing the messiness of real talk. His approach, I imagine, would be quieter but no less firm. He’s navigated fame’s scrutiny with humor and grace, never shying away from his values or his story. If he were to face this ideology’s speech-policing, he’d likely keep doing what he does—sharing his journey, supporting others’ voices, and letting his work speak louder than any dogma.
Woke ideology divides, but we can overcome it by living true and building bridges. My camera captures the world as I see it; his work brings people together to share it. Our approaches—mine through art and words, his through community and action—show that we don’t need to conform to fight back. We just need to keep creating, connecting, and speaking freely. As I’d say over a sunset in the Highlands, and as I think his life quietly proves: truth and humanity are worth fighting for.

Write about your first crush.
When I think about my first crush, my mind goes back to my ex-husband, long before he became my ex. He was my world then—charming, familiar, everything I thought I wanted in a man. I poured my heart into that love, believing it was the shape of forever. But life has a way of teaching us, doesn’t it? We grew apart, our paths diverged, and I learned that love, as beautiful as it feels, sometimes needs more than just a spark to endure. That chapter closed, but it left me wiser, with a clearer sense of who I am and what matters to me.
Now, at this point in my life, I find myself with a new crush—one that feels a little silly to admit, but it’s real and it brings me joy. It’s a celebrity crush, on Sam Heughan. I know it’s not the kind of love you build a life on, but there’s something about him that speaks to my heart. It’s not just his charm or the way he lights up a screen as Jamie Fraser in Outlander. It’s deeper than that. It’s the way he carries himself—his kindness, his authenticity, the way he seems to live with purpose and heart.
Sam feels like a reflection of the values I hold dear: sincerity, resilience, and a quiet strength that doesn’t need to shout to be felt. I admire how he’s stayed grounded despite fame, how he shares glimpses of his Scottish roots with such pride, and how he treats people with warmth and respect. There’s a humanity to him that feels rare, like he’s someone who’d sit down for a coffee or a dram of whisky and listen, really listen, to your story. That’s what draws me in—the idea of someone who values connection, who sees the world with a sense of wonder and gratitude.
Maybe it’s silly to have a crush on someone so far removed from my everyday life, but it’s also a reminder of what I aspire to: living openly, loving deeply, and staying true to who I am. Sam represents a spark of inspiration, a nudge to keep my heart open to possibility, whether that’s in love or in the way I move through the world. My first crush taught me about love’s highs and lows, but this crush? It’s teaching me to dream again, to find joy in the little moments of admiration, and to hold onto the values that make me,
Since the end of my marriage, Sam Heughan has become my first crush in a while, and it’s something that always brings me joy.

The cardinal’s song catches me off guard, a fleeting note that pulls me back to Dad. His stories, his warmth, the way he made life feel anchored—they’re gone now, and the silence cuts deep. It’s the same ache I carry for Toby, my dog, who’d bound toward me with uncontainable joy, and Little Grey, my cat, whose soft purrs were a quiet constant in my days. Losing them carved hollows in my heart, places I’m still learning to tread lightly. And then there’s my marriage—eight years of love, dreams, and promises I thought would hold strong, even after the move to Ohio. I believed we’d weather that change together, but instead, it unraveled, leaving me with a longing for the forever I’d envisioned with my ex-husband.
I read about Sam Heughan, how he reconnected with his dad after years apart, only to lose him to illness. That resonates. Like Sam, I know the sting of missed moments, the ache of what might have been. He walked Scotland’s trails to find meaning in his loss, piecing himself together in the quiet of the highlands. I find my own path in smaller things—a cardinal’s call, a flash of Toby’s wagging tail in my memory, or Little Grey’s gentle gaze. They’re not just gone; they’re woven into who I am, guiding me forward even as I grieve.
The move to Ohio was supposed to be a new chapter, not the end of us. I’d pictured my marriage enduring, growing stronger through the change—a shared adventure with laughter and late-night talks, like the early days with my ex-husband. But disconnection crept in, slow and relentless, until divorce became the only road left. That loss—of love, of the future we planned—feels like another death, layered atop losing Dad, Toby, and Little Grey. It’s a weight I carry, the dream of a marriage that should have lasted, that I fought to hold onto. Yet, like Sam’s Jamie Fraser, who loses family and home but presses on, I’ve found strength in carrying that grief. I hold tight to the love I felt—Dad’s warm laugh, Toby’s loyal nudge, Little Grey’s quiet presence, and the moments when my marriage felt unbreakable. Those memories shape me, teaching me what connection can mean.
Now, as I prepare for another transition—moving to California for simplicity and a fresh start—I feel the echo of these losses but also the hope they’ve sparked. I’m not there yet, but I’m reaching for a place where I can rebuild, where the weight of Ohio’s disconnection might lift. I crave authentic connection, the kind I’ve always chased, where hearts meet openly, like the love I once believed in with my ex-husband. Sam turned his grief into purpose, building something meaningful through his charity. I’m finding mine in the small signs—a dragonfly landing, a bird’s song, a moment that feels like Dad, Toby, or Little Grey whispering, “Keep going.” These losses, these transitions, have taught me to love fiercely, to seek kindness, to chase what matters. The marriage I thought would last didn’t, but it showed me what I’m capable of giving and what I still hope to find. As I step toward this new chapter in California, I carry their love with me, ready to weave new threads of hope, just as Sam found his through his own journey of loss and discovery.

Chris Pine has always seemed like an actor who rejects Hollywood’s shallow glitz. From his commanding role as Captain James T. Kirk in Star Trek (2009) to his bold directorial debut as Darren Barrenman in Poolman (2023), Pine has built a reputation for valuing authenticity over fame’s fleeting allure. He’s called Hollywood a “cyclone of insanity” (The Hollywood Reporter, 2014) and praised roles like Bernie Webber in The Finest Hours (2016) for their selfless depth (DuJour, 2016). Yet, his relationship with Keana Sky Wenger, a 29-year-old designer 15 years his junior, feels like a betrayal of those principles. Their appearances at glamorous fashion events and questions about her career shift evoke the Hollywood clichés Pine claims to shun, leaving a sense of disappointment in his apparent hypocrisy.
A Romance That Raises Questions
Now 44, Pine has been dating Wenger since late 2022 or early 2023, first seen together on a romantic boat trip in Portofino, Italy, in August 2023 (Lainey Gossip, 2024). They’ve since attended high-profile events, including the Ralph Lauren Purple Label Spring 2025 show in Milan (June 2024) and a Brunello Cucinelli dinner at Chateau Marmont in early December 2024 (Just Jared, 2024). Their most recent sighting, holding hands in New York City on December 10, 2024, confirms their ongoing bond (Just Jared, 2024; Daily Mail, 2024). It’s a classic Hollywood love story: a charismatic star and a young designer stepping into the spotlight.
But this narrative jars with Pine’s ethos. He’s dismissed talk show interviews as “bullsh*t” (ELLE, 2016) and criticized Hollywood’s ego-driven culture (The Hollywood Reporter, 2014). So, why is he now at glitzy fashion events with a partner young enough to be his daughter? The 15-year age gap isn’t the main issue—it’s how Wenger’s transition from restaurant hostess to fashion designer aligns suspiciously with their public outings, suggesting a disconnect from Pine’s anti-superficial stance.
Authenticity Under Scrutiny
Pine’s interviews highlight his commitment to substance. He’s described his career as “following the giggle,” choosing roles like Steve Trevor in Wonder Woman (2017) for their joy over commercial success (IndieWire, 2022). He called Poolman (2023) “free jazz” for its raw humanity, embracing its critical failure as a lesson in authenticity (NPR Wild Card, 2024). He’s also championed compassionate storytelling, praising Wonder Woman’s female-led narrative: “Time for female perspective in movies, men are not all that smart” (Inquirer.net, 2017). These statements reflect a rejection of Hollywood’s shallow norms.
Yet, his relationship with Wenger feels like a step into that world. Before meeting Pine, Wenger worked as a hostess at Saffy’s in Los Angeles (Newsweek, 2024). After their relationship went public, she left that job and began appearing at elite fashion events, now described as a “fashion designer” (SheKnows, 2024). The timing is notable: her career shift followed events like the Ralph Lauren show and the Chateau Marmont dinner, where she mingled with stars like Oprah and Sharon Stone (Just Jared, 2024). This raises a question: is Wenger using Pine’s fame to boost her design career? The optics suggest she’s tapping into exclusive circles, clashing with Pine’s disdain for Hollywood’s superficiality.
Hollywood Tropes and the Age Gap
The 15-year age gap amplifies the unease. While age-gap relationships aren’t inherently problematic, they often mirror Hollywood’s cliché of older male stars with younger women. Pine, who’s spoken about “living the questions” and embracing life’s uncertainties (Factinate, 2018), doesn’t seem like someone who’d fall into this trope. His prior relationship with actress Annabelle Wallis (2018-2022), closer in age, felt more like an equal partnership (SheKnows, 2024). With Wenger, the dynamic seems different, especially as her career aspirations align with their public appearances.
Pine’s embrace of a relationship that echoes Hollywood’s stereotypical power dynamics is disappointing, given his advocacy for authenticity. The fashion world’s focus on image contrasts with the grounded values he’s expressed, like his admiration for the selfless hero in The Finest Hours (2016) (DuJour, 2016). Events like the Brunello Cucinelli dinner feel like a shift from his “free jazz” ethos to a polished, red-carpet moment.
A Counterperspective
To be fair, Pine’s bond with Wenger may be genuine. He’s fiercely private, once flipping off a paparazzo to protect his personal space (GQ, 2009). Their two-year relationship suggests commitment, not a publicity stunt. Perhaps Pine sees authenticity in Wenger, aligning with his “following the giggle” philosophy (IndieWire, 2022). Her career shift could reflect ambition, not opportunism, and Pine might be supporting her dreams, much like he’s backed meaningful narratives in Wonder Woman (2017). Comparisons to Matt Damon and Luciana Barroso, who met when she was a bartender, show such dynamics can be authentic (SheKnows, 2024). Still, these points don’t fully dispel the sense that Pine is leaning into the superficiality he’s criticized.
Why It Matters
This disappointment goes beyond Pine’s personal choices—it’s about what they represent. For those who admired his rejection of Hollywood’s shallow norms, seeing him embrace a relationship steeped in its clichés is disheartening. The age gap, fashion-world glamour, and questions about Wenger’s motives amplify the perception of hypocrisy. Pine’s words, calling for compassion and authenticity (NPR Wild Card, 2024), set a high standard that his current path seems to miss. Hopefully, he’ll return to projects like Star Trek or Poolman that reflect his grounded spirit. For now, one wonders: is Pine still “following the giggle” or chasing a different tune?
References
• DuJour. (2016). Chris Pine on The Finest Hours and his Hollywood life. Retrieved from [DuJour website].
• ELLE. (2016). Chris Pine says talk show interviews are “bullsh*t.” Retrieved from [ELLE website].
• Factinate. (2018). Chris Pine on life’s uncertainties and living the questions. Retrieved from [Factinate website].
• GQ. (2009). Chris Pine flips off paparazzo. Retrieved from [GQ website].
• IndieWire. (2022). Chris Pine on “following the giggle” in his career choices. Retrieved from [IndieWire website].
• Inquirer.net. (2017). Chris Pine: “Time for female perspective in movies, men are not all that smart.” Retrieved from [Inquirer.net website].
• Just Jared. (2024). Chris Pine’s mystery girlfriend revealed after more than a year of dating. Retrieved from https://www.justjared.com/2024/12/07/chris-pines-mystery-girlfriend-finally-revealed-after-more-than-a-year-of-dating/
• Just Jared. (2024). Chris Pine & girlfriend Keana Sky Wenger spotted holding hands during NYC stroll. Retrieved from https://www.justjared.com/2024/12/09/chris-pine-girlfriend-keana-sky-wenger-spotted-holding-hands-during-nyc-stroll/
• Lainey Gossip. (2024). Are we judging Chris Pine and his now-identified girlfriend, Keana Sky Wenger, for their age gap? Retrieved from https://www.laineygossip.com/are-we-judging-chris-pine-and-now-identified-girlfriend-keana-sky-wenger-for-age-gap/80374
• Newsweek. (2024). Chris Pine, 44, spotted with new 29-year-old girlfriend in NYC. Retrieved from https://www.newsweek.com/chris-pine-44-spotted-29-year-old-girlfriend-nyc-1999475
• NPR Wild Card. (2024). Chris Pine on Poolman and embracing failure. Retrieved from [NPR website].
• SheKnows. (2024). What we know about Chris Pine’s girlfriend Keana Wenger. Retrieved from https://www.sheknows.com/entertainment/articles/1234770252/chris-pine-keana-sky-wenger-dating-details/
• Daily Mail. (2024). Chris Pine, 44, bundles up in trench coat for stroll with new girlfriend Keana Sky Wenger, 29, in NYC. Retrieved from https://www.dailymail.co.uk/tvshowbiz/article-14210469/Chris-Pine-44-bundles-trench-coat-stroll-new-girlfriend-Keana-Sky-Wenger-29-NYC.html
• Yahoo. (2024). Chris Pine’s mystery, longtime girlfriend is allegedly a designer 15 years his junior, sources claim. Retrieved from https://www.yahoo.com/entertainment/chris-pine-mystery-longtime-girlfriend-173000897.html

The hum of the world fades as I sit in the quiet of the car, the Kia emblem on the steering wheel a silent witness to this sacred moment. In my hand, the emerald ring gleams, its heart-shaped center a deep, vibrant green, like the first breath of spring in a Highland meadow. Small emeralds and diamonds, delicate as dewdrops, line the slender band, each stone a tiny star that catches the light and holds it close. My stepmother gave me this ring, a gift for my birthday yet to dawn and for my college graduation, a triumph carved from sleepless nights and steadfast will. I trace its edges, feeling the cool metal against my skin, the heart-shaped emerald steady as a heartbeat, and I know its place. With a breath as solemn as a vow spoken under ancient oaks, I slide it onto my wedding finger—not for another, but for me. A promise, fierce as a Fraser’s oath, to hold myself close, to honor the fire that burns within.

This emerald, my birthstone, is more than a jewel. Its heart shape is a mirror to my own, green as the quiet forests I imagine when the world grows too loud. Its depth soothes me, a color that drowns out the chaos—the buzz of fluorescent lights, the clamor of voices that tangle in my mind. I press my thumb to its surface, smooth and cool, and it’s like touching a still lake, ancient and unyielding, whispering that I belong to something vast. The smaller emeralds along the band hum in harmony, a rhythm I can feel, while the diamonds sparkle like moments of clarity—sharp, radiant, fleeting, but enough to light my way. Together, they are my anchor, my strength, a testament to the battles fought to claim my degree and the woman I am becoming.
This ring, given for my birthday and my graduation, carries the weight of both. The heart-shaped emerald is my refuge, grounding me through the nights when words wouldn’t come, when the weight of expectations pressed too hard. The tiny emeralds and diamonds are the victories—each step forward, each moment of understanding, each quiet pride as I crossed the stage to take my diploma. To wear it on my wedding finger is to swear an oath to myself, as binding as Claire’s vow to Jamie under a sky of endless stars. It’s a promise to cherish the way I feel the world—deeply, fiercely, in colors and textures others might not see. The emerald’s green hums against my skin, a steady rhythm I can trust when the world spins too fast. It says, You are enough. It says, Your heart is a diamond, your spirit an emerald, and no one can take that from you. I feel the weight of that vow, warm and heavy, like a hand clasped in mine across time—a love letter to myself, written in stone and light.
In the car’s quiet, the ring catches the light, its heart glowing, the diamonds winking like stars. When the noise of life presses in—when voices overlap or the hum of the engine feels too much—I touch the emerald, its cool green steadying me like a deep breath. The smaller stones along the band remind me of the small joys—the sound of rain on the windshield, the softness of a familiar scarf, the pride of holding my degree. This ring is my standing stone, my portal to myself, grounding me in a world that often feels too bright, too loud. Like Jamie, swearing his life to Claire, I swear to protect the spark within me, to nurture the dreams that flicker like starlight, to be my own refuge until the day I choose to share this vow with another.
In the quiet of my heart, where the emerald’s green sings and the diamonds’ fire dances, I am home. This ring, this vow, is my truth: I am enough. It is my graduation, my birthday, my promise to carry this truth like a flame, fierce and unyielding, through every storm, every mile, every beat of my heart.
#EmeraldHeart #SelfLove #GraduationPride #BirthdayGift #AutisticStrength #OutlanderVibes #PersonalVow #InnerLight #GemstoneMagic #HeartOfStrength
What I value
Today, I wanted to take a moment to reflect on a trait that I truly value in myself: being a great listener. In a world that often feels chaotic and overwhelming, there are so many people out there who just need someone to listen to them. Being that person who offers a compassionate ear can be incredibly powerful. When someone feels heard, it can lift a tremendous weight off their shoulders and provide a sense of relief and connection.
However, as I ponder on this, I realize that it’s not just one trait that defines us or makes us valuable. It’s the beautiful tapestry of multiple qualities that we possess. Kindness, compassion, generosity, and the ability to bring joy to others are all equally important. Each of these traits contributes to who we are and how we impact the world around us.
So, while I am proud of being a great listener, I also recognize the importance of celebrating all the other wonderful traits we hold dear. Let’s take a moment to appreciate and value the many facets of our personalities. After all, it’s the combination of these qualities that makes us unique and capable of making a positive difference in the lives of others.