HELLO COMPLICATED HUMAN,
I’M K-OH.
I am one of those complicated humans too!
I have studied creative writing openly, practicing as a learner and student of cultic studies and power-over relationships. The body of OH MY HEART is an experimental newsletter containing poetry, essay, verse and prose. A mosaic of the mini vignettes, exciting and provocative.
The body of my work came from when I was broken down as a child. I left home knowing I would never return but found that rescuing the words left in the trash heap of childhood began bridging worlds threading lost stories together. Despite the challenge of somatic echos, unwanted words becoming open conversations, the secrets won't let go, enigmas ready to shine. This collection's unique and complex nature calls for my mammalian experiences, an invitation for a constellation of connections through voice and ears never trained to hear the call of a star buried at its tell-tale heart, which beats with rhythmic precision. These tactile and urgent fragments can be consumed as critical touchpoints in my recovery through psychedelic journeys and years of therapy. Currently navigating ways to fill education gaps, the brokenness of my brain, I never had a chance to learn writing formally. I only recently realized I am a writer -writing is my craft. I figured out through disaster and brutality how to draw new roadmaps for self-discovery; only through writing have I been able to show myself fully.
The direction of OH MY HEART is healing-focused, to unlearn undiscovered internal biased to find my voice in heteropatriarchy. I sought to learn more about what is on the other side of culture created through this experience. I found excellent resources when I realized I wanted to know how to connect to all our human experiences, mine as a white woman with colonial origins.
Working with MDMA, Psilocybin, LSD, 2CB, and Ketamine therapeutically and recreationally has untied the knots of unknowing.
Trauma is at the root of what I do. Meeting my own, pursuing the intense work to understand it, disentangling myself from its grip on my life, and weaving myself back together had to come first.
This work did not “fix” me. And I’m still an imperfect person. This work made me whole.
And I will make a positive contribution and have meaningful exchanges with grown-ups about drugs.
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