Brand
Inevitably, labels are hung. Perhaps the most effective way to remove the sting from them is to invest in understanding their origins and underlying motives. Only then can we pivot toward owning our narratives.
“The will to label prevails over what’s being labeled, often at the expense of either truth or understanding.”
“I think putting labels on people is just an easy way of marketing something you don’t understand.”
Reckless
“Reckless” is a label for courage that surfaces where others won’t walk.
Because change is generally difficult to manage, “reckless” is a natural response to change agents. Of course, calling someone “reckless” can sometimes reflect real concern, especially when actions seem to ignore perceived risks, consequences, or social norms. But too often, calling someone else “reckless” is a projection of our own risk tolerance, fear, or discomfort. It’s less about the actual danger and more about how someone else's choices violate our internal rules.
Projection occurs when we label someone based on our emotional reactions, not their actual intent or readiness. When someone challenges the status quo , we might call them “reckless” because we don’t have the same courage. When we don’t understand someone’s skill or the context in which it’s used, we may assume recklessness because we lack the same preparation or insight. When someone triggers envy or fear, it's easier to call her “reckless” than to confront our inadequacy.
What feels reckless to one person might feel calculated and necessary to another. A skydiver or rock climber sees and calculates risk. With care and training, the choices aren’t inherently as dangerous. We see this portrayed in the Academy Award winning documentary, Free Solo. An entrepreneur may quit a job simply because the opportunity has run its course and she is ready for something new. A truth-teller may face the label “reckless” for saying what others are afraid to voice.
“Reckless” fits when someone lacks caution or acts in ways that easily lead to harm, failure, or even just disruption. Examples include driving fast in bad weather, quitting a job without a backup plan, or investing big in risky ventures.
“Reckless” often functions as a moral label. It’s a way of saying: “You’re violating what I think is responsible behavior.” It reflects group values vs. objective facts. “He’s reckless for getting married so young,” or “She’s reckless to speak up.”
Some call others “reckless” when they feel uneasy, threatened, or left behind. It becomes a projection of their own risk aversion or inner tension. “That’s reckless,” then equates to “That’s terrifying,” or “That challenges my worldview.”
Ravenous
“Ravenous” is a label for unrelenting pursuits that rattle comfort zones.
“Ravenous” is frequently a projection of shame around thirst or drive, a moral judgment against boldness, or a way to reduce s power by framing it as “too much.” Labeling someone “ravenous” is a reaction to vitality. “Damn him for being so alive, expressive, and driven.”
It’s true that thirst can also ignore ethics or boundaries, harm others, or be rooted in addiction, trauma, or consumption without care. But ambition, desire, and passion are different from disregard, imbalance, and desperation.
Some criticize thirsts that feel uncontrolled. Examples include food, attention, success, affection, freedom. “Ravenous” frames these desires as primitive, greedy, or shameful. “You should be more restrained like me.”
“Ravenous” judges another’s thirst while pretending to have healthier boundaries. It functions as a moral high ground. “I want things too—but not like that.” When appetite seems excessive, it’s treated as extraneous to normalize restraint.
“Ravenous” seeks to police social and cultural norms, especially around women’s ambition or sexuality (“She’s thirsty for success.”), marginalized people’s drive to succeed (“He’s always chasing status”), and non-traditional lifestyles (“They’re into the novelty of it all”). In these contexts, thirst becomes a tool of suppression. “Know your place.”
“Ravenous” masks insecurity. Seeing someone pursue what they want can trigger envy, inadequacy, or fear. It’s framed as a flaw, instead of asking “Why does her thirst bother me?”
Our People
Rule-Breakers
Non-conformist, rebellious, anti-authority. They challenge boundaries and systems without explaining rationale. Example: a founder who breaks regulations to launch a product. Rule-breakers follow unconventional ethics.
Free-Spirits
Spontaneous, intuitive, adventurous. They reject structure and stability. They favor flow and freedom. Example: a manager who leaves his job to travel. They likely have a plan, or they value presence over predictability.
Idealists
Values-driven, passionate, sturdy. They act from heart vs. practicality. Example: a woman who quits her career to fight climate change. They risk comfort for conviction. They’re viewed as impractical or extreme.
Climbers
Goal-oriented, driven, relentless. Thirst for achievement and mobility threatens others. Example: a colleague who chases promotions. They’re called greedy, even when the push is strategic and disciplined.
Over-Achievers
Hyperactive, toppling, motivated. Their insatiable need to excel or prove themselves comes across as obsessive. Example: a straight-A student. They battle inner voices of “not enough,” while being labeled “alot.”
Risk-Takers
Bold, action-oriented, ambitious. Some can’t see or won’t tolerate the risks others will take. Example: an investor who bets on unproven startups. To risk-takers, it’s calculated activity. To others, it looks like chaos.
Disruptors
Innovative, futuristic, provocative. Their ideas feel fast, loose, and unfamiliar. Example: a technologist launching a radical vehicle despite safety fears. They may be visionaries who are misunderstood in the moment.
Escapists
Impulsive, self-destructive, thrill-seeking. They engage without regard for personal or social consequences. Example: a gambling addict who pushes all his chips in. They may be in genuine danger and need support.
Survivors of Scarcity
Hoarding, urgent, overly-prepared. Accumulation seems excessive to those who’ve never gone without. Example: a man with abundance who was once poor. Their thirst is trauma vs. greed. “Ravenous” erases story.
Strategists
Brand-conscious, appearance-focused, socially-fluid. Their pursuit of luxury and influence seems shallow. Example: a woman who networks a lot. The label reflects insecurity. Savvy positioning can also seem unrefined.
Truth-Tellers
Direct, courageous, authentic. Speaking out endangers group dynamics, especially power. Example: an employee who cites unethical behavior. “Reckless” can be an unwillingness to stay silent.
First-Timers
Inexperienced, naive, enthusiastic. It’s assumed they lack the judgment to handle life. Example: a new parent choosing an uncommon parenting style. They may lack expertise, but not necessarily wisdom or insight.
Unapologetics
Transparent, fearless, vocal. Their authenticity violates social scripts. Example: a public figure who shares mental health struggles, or a CEO who talks company flaws. What feels reckless could also be vulnerability.
Sensualists
Passionate, sharing, receiving. Desire for connection (physical or emotional) can cross lines for some. Example: a woman who isn’t monogamist. “Ravenous” becomes a form of erotic shaming.
Creatives
Expressive, raw, daring. Origination can overwhelm, especially when it requires deep attention. Example: an artist who pours everything into performances. The appetite seems narcissistic vs. vulnerable or visionary
Founding Story
Reckless Raven was created by someone like you.
I arrived at college as an only child, from a single-parent household. My mother and father were school teachers, and my grandparents were retired machinists and World War II veterans.
My first impression was that my fellow students and I had little in common. Many were from generational money and bloodlines. They wore expensive clothes and accessories, albeit some very bland choices in L.L. Bean, Eddie Bauer, and others. Some were living off-campus from abroad, and others came from famous families like the Schwarzkopfs and McCormicks.
I declared my major in Business because I enjoyed taking advanced placement Economics in high school. I quickly felt out-of-place. They didn’t like how I dressed, walked, or talked. I wasn’t much of a “morning person,” and classes were starting early in the day. I suffered from allergies and was too foggy-brained to be at my best.
I pivoted to Fine Arts, to pursue what had been my earliest explorations. I was just a few years old when I first chose to express myself. My mom took me to the Museum of Natural History in New York to draw wooly mammoths and dinosaurs, and to the Hayden Planetarium to dream of the stars. The “weird,” as others label us, didn’t stand in the way. Many supported what I was about.
When I wasn’t in class, I was lead singer and songwriter for bands. I wasn’t entirely comfortable with being at the front of the stage, but I was a strong communicator and had a 4-octave vocal range. Unfortunately, I also had a difficult time remembering own lyrics. It’s easy to get lost in the heat and anxiety of performing. The stage lights are brutally bright and warm. Having a ton of energy meant I could still wail away at 1am after a full day of other activities. With rising status locally came a mix of admiration and disdain. I heard some of the most beautiful and ugly sentiments shared with me when I was a rock star.
As a young professional, I remained creative. I worked at advertising agencies, and was even named partner in two different ones for a period of 15 years. I was known as a bit of a dragon slayer. We were regularly invited to bid on brand name projects despite being small and scrappy shops. We won a bunch of those opportunities over more established outfits, against the odds. I wasn’t afraid to walk into any room and speak truth to those in power. I had big ideas and sold them well.
This early success led me to an executive role in financial services (and away from what made me successful in the first place). It’s a common theme in careers. Many with Fine Arts training become leaders. Artistry is elevating, orchestrating, expressing, connecting, and moving others in the most meaningful of ways. It’s authentic. But becoming a leader also takes you into circles where the artist in you won’t be understood or valued as a peer and a partner. That aspect is treated like a lesser citizen. Expression can be more a threat than a potential ally on the ladder. Ideas and words remain extremely potent. But business is feeling more like a house of cards in our current, volatile times. Especially with the rise of AI and the threats it represents, what we’re doing here is even more important. Reckless Raven is a powerful reminder to be human.
The reckless and the ravenous don’t tiptoe. We live larger than life. We flap wings and squawk. We’re rule-breakers, risk-takers, truth-tellers, free-spirits, disruptors, first-timers, idealists, escapists, unapologetics, climbers, survivors, sensualists, over-achievers, and strategists.
Some love us right where we stand. Others question, whisper, oppose, or dislike us. That dynamic can stay with us most of our lives — even when we Ieast want it present. Labels are hung. We shoulder them because we can, and because we know we must stand tall as positive, counter-examples against the worst of prevailing wisdom and people.
Reckless Raven was created as my music imprint, many moons ago. I published my first songs under this banner. As I refocus on my creative roots and craft, it’s the perfect flag to unfurl and wave. The truth is that it never left me. Great music is timeless. The hooks ring through ears, etch into brains, and resurface in the moments when we need their therapeutic properties.
I hope you’ll found solace, courage, and energy from what I and others create here. Reckless Raven has been my publishing, but I welcome your contributions ahead as we expand the breadth of the offering.
We live, we learn, we grow.
Eric S. Townsend