Hey, awesome people.
There is something inherently “un-American” about the quiet creep of absolute power. We’ve spent the last few months watching the shadows grow longer—from the threat of unnecessary wars to the escalating tension in our own streets. We are told to wait for the next election, to “trust the process,” but history has shown us that the process doesn’t move unless the people push it.
This Saturday, March 28, millions of us are pushing back.
For my latest design, “Resist Fascism,” I chose a heart. Not a perfect, symmetrical Valentine’s heart, but a textured, defiant one. Because resistance isn’t just about what we hate; it’s about what we love enough to protect.
This Saturday isn’t just another date on a protest calendar; it’s a breaking point. When we talk about No Kings 3, we aren’t just using a catchy slogan. We are addressing a very real, very dangerous shift toward absolute authority. Whether it’s the shadow of an unnecessary war in Iran or the terrifying escalation of ICE crackdowns in our own neighborhoods, the message from the top has been clear: Your voice is secondary to the state’s will.
On March 28, we flip that script.
History shows that power never concedes gracefully. It only bends when the weight of the people becomes impossible to ignore. By showing up—whether you’re in D.C. or standing on a corner in a small town like mine—you are physically manifesting a check on that power. We are protecting the “everyday”—our right to create, to love, and to live without the fear of a sovereign’s whim. We aren’t just protesting a policy; we are defending our humanity.
I’ve spent a lot of time lately thinking about seizing the means of production, usually in the context of our labor and our crafts. But there is a deeper “production” we need to reclaim: the production of our future.
In many ways, collective action is the ultimate DIY project. It’s messy, it requires collaboration, and it’s built from the ground up by people who refuse to accept a pre-packaged version of “how things are.” When 9 million people move in unison, it creates a masterpiece of resistance that no “King” can paint over.
My “Resist Fascism“ design is my small contribution to that gallery. It’s a reminder that even in our “softest” moments—clothed in florals or lost in a crochet project—we carry a core of iron. We can be aesthetic and activist all at once. So, take the heart, take the streets, and let’s show them that the only thing “absolute” in this country is the power of the people.
Stay sparkly (and radical).