Vanessa

Thank you, sweet friend! 🌺🌸🌼

The ‘small government’ party just greenlit a bill that bleeds $250 billion a year with zero funding in sight.

Calling the GOP ‘fiscally conservative’ is like calling a pickpocket a philanthropist. Predators in patriot drag.

WHY ARE WE LIKE THIS? #THEATLANTAWAY

So whether you’re sending flowers, lighting a candle, or just trying to emotionally survive the day and her guilt trip — here’s to the women who got us here.

Happy Mother’s Day.

And shoutout to the belly button:
weird little scar, big-ass origin story.

Your belly button is the ultimate “we’ve been through some stuff” souvenir. It’s your body’s way of saying,
“Yeah, I used to be literally attached to my mother.”

Before you had opinions, playlists, or trauma—
you had an umbilical cord.
And she was on the other end.

PSA: The global Latino family Whatsapp threads are just pope puns and memes.

I walked through a store yesterday and every rack was covered in food. Not food adjacent. Literal food. Skirts with olives. Sweaters with spaghetti. Shirts that look like a Tuscan tablescape threw up.

A little whimsy? Always welcome. A cheeky print? Sure. But this? Industrialized "quirkiness." 😬

Oh, look, "best by" dates can be replaced with "good luck" stickers.

Internet zaddy meets Easter art.

Pedro Pascal, ladies and gentlemen.

Artist: Patricia Hernandez

#bombshellsatl

The streets were frantic in 2019 for this art egg. Excited to see who finds it this year.

Returning artist, @okugisan.bsky.social! Gothic heart. Purple flowers blooming between the bones. This egg is a love letter to beauty that lingers—even in the dark. #bombshellsatl #fafatl #artegghunt

This beauty joins the hunt Friday, April 18th. You coming?

I don’t have a perfect takeaway.

Only this:
People will disappoint you.
People will surprise you.
Sometimes, they’ll do both in the same day.
And joy, like trust, is fragile—but it’s also weirdly resilient.
You hide it.
You hope someone finds it.
You believe, against odds, that maybe they will.

And while I was doing that—just letting it be what it was—the box of eggs turned up. Discarded a few feet away, somewhat scuffed, like it had been exiled and then changed its mind.

I let the community know. Called it a tiny absurd tragedy.
And then, something beautiful happened.
People got mad. On my behalf.
They cussed out the joy thieves.
They offered to donate eggs. To give back theirs so someone else could participate.

Only 8 or 10 eggs were left in it, but that wasn’t the point. In all these years, this had never happened. Several artists hadn’t even had the chance to pick theirs up.

I felt that familiar pang—the one that comes from trying to make something gentle in a world that is not.

Still, I showed up. I made a small logistical change: I moved the location where artists could pick up their blank eggs.

And then, yesterday. Poof.
Gone.
The box.
Missing.

This year is Year 11. And to be honest, I am already running on fumes.
The mood in the world is low, heavy. People are burned out, broke, grieving, stuck. Joy feels like a luxury item these days—something beautiful and breakable and maybe a little embarrassing to admit you still want.

At its core, the hunt runs on communal trust:
That people will drop the eggs.
That others will go looking.
That they’ll claim what they find.

It started in local parks—adult strangers, dressed in their Sunday best, crouched in flowerbeds.

Then thanks to a certain global virus, the hunt evolved into a Springtime scavenger poem.

For the past 10 years, I’ve put on an annual art egg hunt @bombshellsatl.bsky.social

For grown-ups. For weirdos. For people who still believe in a bit of magic, even if it comes in the shape of a Tina Turner egg tucked behind a street sign.

We don’t celebrate April Fools in a dystopia. 🙅🏻‍♀️

Everyone’s an “atlanta creative” until it’s time to show up on time and send a Google doc. 🫠

A screenshot from the Atlanta Allergy Pollen Count that reflects today's pollen count as 14801

We're all just huffing tree sperm and calling it a lifestyle.

idk who did this but ilu

Instructions

1. Claim egg
2. Spread Joy

#bombshellsatl

Social fabric: in shambles
Economy: dismal
Climate: aflame
War: text updates

Me: let’s have an art egg hunt!

Already getting sneak peeks! 👀 Love the anticipation for #bombshellsatl Can’t wait to see, @theghostofjune.bsky.social! 💣🥚💥

Where's Jill Stein at?

if we staff ICE with Uvalde police officers, they'll never enter schools

He’s Führious.