Hi, I’m Kacy.

You can call me Kacy, KK, or Cakey.

You can call what I do creative direction, creative crusading, or creative stewarding.

And you can call my tools a pen, a keyboard, and a story to tell.

Speaking of, my story starts in 2nd grade. I wrote this poem:

Winter
The soft winter wind rocks the silent trees.
The sky grows dark and then
Comes the icy breeze.
Snow falls down from the sky and makes a white sheet.
Children come out to play on the snow-white sheet.
Birds fly south in winter to a warmer location.
Love is spread to every house in the cold wintertime.
A deer walks quietly through the woods
As winter comes its way.

When I brought the poem to school, I got questioned—nicely—about plagiarism. And then very quickly labeled as “the weird kid”.

In the couple decades since, I’ve learned that all good writers are thieves to some degree (that’s why they call it “copy”!) I’ve learned that weirdness is surprisingly effective in viral marketing. And while I am less surprised by bird migration, and definitely of a different mind about free love in northern climates, I haven’t stopped looking for ways to paint the snow with words.

In that, I think I will always be a 7 year-old looking out a window.