
By Ken Hollow, spiritually disassociating via brand guidelines
Every Monday starts the same.
I open my laptop. I crack my knuckles. I take a deep breath.
Then I get an email from Nana Vix’s assistant titled: “✨This Week’s Aura Forecast ✨”
And I know — deep in my soul, or at least in my tired retinas — that I’m about to spend the next six hours recoloring graphics based on the metaphysical temperature of Nana’s energetic field.
Let’s unpack that absurdity.
🔹 The Aura Forecast Is Not a Metaphor
It’s a real PDF. Delivered like clockwork. Branded. With headers like:
- “Solar Flare Vibes”
- “Vibrational Palette of the Week”
- “Avoid Orange, Embrace Mauve”
Apparently, Nana has her aura professionally scanned by someone named Illyra (two y’s, one tragic career path), and the results determine the visual tone of her brand for the next seven days.
✅ This week: No reds. They’re “too confrontational.” Soft lilacs only. For emotional permeability.
🔹 Yes, I Have to Re-Edit Everything
Scheduled content? Nope.
Drafted stories? Cursed.
Reels in the queue? Energetically misaligned.
So we:
- Re-color every carousel
- Replace every highlight cover
- Swap every call-to-action button to a hue that resonates with Nana’s current vibrational frequency
I now have a folder called “Aura Variants” because Nana believes branding should be fluid, like a soul in a moon bath.
✅ Consistency is for the spiritually rigid. We serve chaos and chromatherapy here.
🔹 There’s a Pantone System. It’s Unhinged.
Illyra uses something called the “Celestial Alignment Index” to choose Nana’s approved color palette. This week it’s:
- Mist Rose
- Ether Lavender
- Grief Teal (???)
Every color comes with an emotional description. I once had to swap a green background because it was “vibrationally crunchy.”
✅ My job is now color-coding content to match the mood of a woman whose aura shifts like coastal weather.
🔹 The CTA Must Match the Vibe
Apparently, tone matters.
So I can’t just say “Link in bio.” I must say:
- “Float toward your resonance”
- “Feel the pull? Tap gently”
- “Align with your yes, beloved”
If I write something too assertive, I get a Slack ping with a voice note that begins with “Hey babe, I love that for you BUT…”
✅ I now write captions in lowercase italics and lunar metaphors.
🔹 The Filters Are Aura-Specific Too
Nana uses three filters:
- One for when she’s feeling “expansive”
- One for when she’s in “sacred contraction”
- One for Mercury retrograde, which she insists “flattens depth of field”
I once posted a photo with the wrong filter and got a 6-minute Voxer message about misrepresenting her inner light.
✅ I now edit reels like I’m conducting a séance.
🔹 Nothing Is Ever Final
By Wednesday, her aura might shift. By Friday, we may need an “emergency vibrational pivot.”
We’ve replaced her entire launch graphics set three times in one cycle.
At this point, I just keep all PSDs in editable pastel mode and pray to the Canva gods.
✅ Nana’s brand isn’t a visual identity. It’s a fluctuating energetic suggestion.
🔹 Final Thoughts (While Manually Softening Mauve Overlays)
I didn’t go to art school. But if I had, I still wouldn’t be prepared for this.
There is no template for aura-based branding. There is only intuition, suffering, and six variations of the same damn moodboard.
Every week, I pretend to understand the energetic nuances of coral. I justify pivoting brand colors because of an invisible solar flare. I rewrite CTAs to match the emotional hue of Nana’s feelings.
This isn’t content strategy. This is astral projection for hire.
And yet — the engagement is solid. The audience eats it up. Soft pastels perform. Her community DMs things like “I FELT this tone shift.”
So who’s the fool?
Me. It’s me. Editing gradient carousels at midnight. Again.
by Ken Hollow, aura-shifted, spiritually color-corrected, and dead inside but on-brand
Hi. I’m Ken. I run Two Second Solutions, a one-man agency that somehow landed a fox spirit influencer as a client. I drink too much coffee, blog when I need to vent, and regularly update my résumé just in case she sets the office on fire again. I’m not crying — it’s just spell residue.