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Keenan

Non-binary jack-of-all-trades.



I’m on a journey to heal my inner-creative.

That sounds dramatic, I know. Bear with me.

For 12 years I worked in corporate tech. I was good at what I did (writing, marketing, facilitation, leadership, learning & development), but ultimately realized after being burnt out for an inordinate amount of time that something had to change before I lost my mind.

In the process of recuperating, I realized that I’ve neglected the artistic side of me—the imaginative, curious child who was never afraid to try new things and play with ideas they conjured up. Somewhere along the way of building a “career,” I let fear dictate how I lived my life. I stopped taking chances. I found new ways to say “no” to myself.

Eventually, I became exhausted with getting in my own way. So now I’m working to reconnect with curiosity, with imagination, with joy.

I’m excited to meet myself again.

Anyway, I’m originally from Chicago, but my wife and I moved to the Louisville-ish area. We have a dog. Her name is Olive. She’s amazing.

If you’re here, you’ve probably seen my photos, my VO work, podcasts, writing, and various other creative output. I’m fully committed to embracing my innate desire to try things that interest me, and ignore the inner-censor that says, “No. Specialize. Commit. You’re too messy. Too disorganized. No one will fucking like you.”

I don’t care. I’m not afraid to be seen trying (anymore).

Self-portrait of a masculine-presenting person taking a photo with an iPhone in a mirror. Half of their face is divided by a bezel in the mirror, refracting their face in a disconcerting way. They are wearing a black army cap and a pink henley t-shirt. Their facial hair is a dark, full mustache with a small patch underneath their bottom lip. A small glimpse of dark blue nail polish can be seen on a few of their fingers.
A relatively accurate depiction of what I look like.


Fun facts:

I use they/them pronouns.

I do not know what I am doing and I am often very scared!!!

One time someone described my voice as a chocolate milkshake being poured into their ear. I’m pretty sure they meant it as a compliment.