We are a community of struggle. We have dealt with depression, suicide and addiction. We were hopeless. Now we know another world is possible and we’d like to offer that same grace to you.
I’m the founder of Open Our Eyes. I firmly believe in the correlation of salvation and love, music the way some people believe in fairy tales and six impossible things before breakfast. I don’t eat or wear animals because they’re my friends. Only two seasons exist to me: summer and almost summer because nothing compares to the feeling of sand between your toes. In addition to Open Our Eyes, I run a music management and marketing company: Band Aid Records. I blog daily and photograph life. As a result of my gypsy soul, I’m addicted to change and was born for leaving. I have a huge heart for Africa, Palestine, LGBT community and young women knowing their worth. I don’t believe in being comfortable or a calm course of existence.
I’m the Blog Coordinator for Open Our Eyes. I’ve always been the girl to fight for what she believes in and make it known to the world – all while shying away behind a giant glass wall. My heart belongs to children battling for their lives, and my purpose is to keep the memory alive of those we’ve lost. I believe that the people who perhaps spend too much time alone are the ones who rise with the greatest intentions. Every human being deserves a voice and an opportunity to stand up and speak out. Coffee keeps me sane, and I am quite positive I was born in the wrong generation. To me, words often speak more than what they literally say.
I handle all things Social Media for Open Our Eyes – so you can find me on Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr and Pinterest. I am a believer in love conquering all things. I am fiercely independent and just as fiercely protective of those I love. My stance on coffee varies between “Life is too short to drink bad coffee” and “Life is too short to wait for good coffee.” No matter where I go you’ll find a book on me in some way, shape, or form. I have feet because I was made to move, but don’t ask me to go for a jog. I must have been a wood nymph in a former life, because I seem to crave tree cover like some women crave chocolate. My soul cries for those whose heart-wings have been clipped, and I long to help them fly once more.