We’re looking forward to introducing you to Parke Ballantine. Check out our conversation below.
Parke, so good to connect and we’re excited to share your story and insights with our audience. There’s a ton to learn from your story, but let’s start with a warm up before we get into the heart of the interview. What are you being called to do now, that you may have been afraid of before?
I feel called to center my process more than the product. Over the past year or two, I’ve been integrating what used to feel like separate practices, my DJ work, styling, photography, and spiritual inquiry, into a single way of living and creating. That integration led to the creation of Wardrobe Rituals, which brings all of those elements together and treats style as both a creative and healing practice.
What I’m being called toward now is slowing down and paying closer attention to how I work. I’m exploring how I spend my time, how I structure my days, and what truly nourishes me versus what drains me. It’s less about chasing outcomes and more about asking what kind of world I want to live in, and how I can align my daily practices as closely as possible with that vision.
I think I was afraid of this before because it runs counter to the dominant narrative of being easily digestible, punchy, and simple. I’m none of those things. I’m multifaceted, contradictory, and a little messy, and that’s how I experience life. Choosing this path means saying no more often, slowing down, and committing fully to what I care about instead of keeping it aspirational. There’s excitement in that, and also a real sense of stepping into the unknown. But it feels like the right moment to make moves without needing everything to be clear, trusting that presence and integrity will shape what comes next.
Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
I’m a multimedia artist, stylist, and facilitator based in Austin, and my work lives at the intersection of image, ritual, and personal expression. I create bold, concept-driven visual work through styling, photography, and creative direction, and I also design experiential spaces where people can explore identity, desire, and self-connection through creative practice.
My main focus right now is Wardrobe Rituals, a six-week workshop series that reframes style as a living, embodied practice rather than something purely aesthetic or trend-based. The work invites people to slow down and relate to getting dressed as a creative and intuitive process, using clothing as a tool for self-knowledge, play, and transformation. It blends visual theory, embodiment, and ritual in a way that’s both thoughtful and accessible, offering people tangible practices they can carry into their daily lives.
Alongside this, I host a weekly radio show called Mood Ring, where I curate music across time and genre as a way of exploring emotional landscapes, and I work out of a photography studio on Austin’s east side where I shoot both brand work and personal projects. What makes my work unique is this integration. Rather than separating art, style, and spirituality, I treat them as interconnected. I’m less interested in telling people what looks good and more interested in helping them develop their own visual language and sense of agency. Ultimately, everything I do is about creating space for curiosity, complexity, and deeper ways of being in relationship with ourselves and the world.
Great, so let’s dive into your journey a bit more. What part of you has served its purpose and must now be released?
I’m in the process of releasing the part of me that learned to make myself small and equate my worth with access to resources. Growing up with scarcity leaves a deep imprint, and for a long time that fear shaped how I moved through the world, how I worked, and what I believed was possible. Right now, especially given how charged conversations around money and survival feel globally, it seems like the exact moment to examine what’s still protective versus what’s no longer serving me.
I’m learning to let go of fear as the primary motivator and to move instead toward what I genuinely desire. Those survival strategies were necessary at one point, and I have a lot of compassion for them, but I don’t want them running the show anymore. I’m ready to trust that it’s possible to be values aligned, creative, and responsible without constantly bracing for the worst. The world can be hard and unpredictable, but it’s also full of support, generosity, and sweetness. Releasing this part feels like an invitation to see the full range of what’s possible and to meet the future with more openness, steadiness, and self-trust.
What did suffering teach you that success never could?
Suffering taught me things that success never could because it stripped everything down to what was essential. I was recently talking with a friend about healing from trauma and reclaiming ancestral spiritual practices, and we reflected on how, in many traditions, initiation involved being pushed to the edge. People were placed in situations that forced them into a kind of death or long dark night, so they could cross a threshold and return changed. For those of us who have lived through trauma or complex life experiences, we’ve already undergone those initiations. We’ve faced the shadows, met ourselves there, and seen who emerges on the other side.
Through suffering, I learned deep compassion and empathy. It humbled me and cracked me open to how interconnected we are in our pain and in our longing to be free from it. Suffering became a mirror, showing me who I am when I have nothing left to lose, where I turn, and how I rise. In an unexpected way, it’s made me proud of myself, not because of endurance alone, but because it’s softened me. I feel braver now in my willingness to be open, to love, and to risk being hurt again. I wouldn’t wish suffering on anyone, but it’s a double edged sword in a way because it has been a profound teacher, revealing that the fullness of being alive includes the entire spectrum, not just the comfortable or triumphant parts.
So a lot of these questions go deep, but if you are open to it, we’ve got a few more questions that we’d love to get your take on. What’s a belief you used to hold tightly but now think was naive or wrong?
I used to believe that the mind was the superior processor of experience, that rational thought could think me out of anything difficult or uncomfortable. I saw the body and emotions as messy, unreliable, and even dangerous, something to override rather than listen to. At the time, that belief gave me a sense of control and invulnerability, but in hindsight it was a very brittle way of being.
What I understand now is that the body often knows long before the mind does. Our nervous systems and emotions are receiving information in real time, while the brain is largely working from past data, trying to predict what comes next. For someone with a history of trauma, that meant my mind was constantly forecasting danger and failure. When I began to soften into my body and allow myself to feel, I realized how much wisdom lives there. The body holds the raw data of the present moment, while the mind can lag behind, like an outdated machine trying to print something that’s already moved on.
I don’t see it as choosing one over the other, but finding balance. The mind is a powerful tool, but it’s not the only source of truth. Learning to trust my somatic intelligence has changed how I live, how I create, and how I work with intuition. It’s deeply shaped my art and my offerings, reminding me that clarity doesn’t always come from thinking harder, but from listening more closely.
Okay, we’ve made it essentially to the end. One last question before you go. What are you doing today that won’t pay off for 7–10 years?
Right now I’m planting seeds without needing to know exactly how or when they’ll bloom. In this season, I’ve intentionally shifted from long-range strategy to something much more present and responsive, sometimes thinking a month at a time. So imagining a seven to ten year horizon feels almost mystical, but also deeply clarifying.
One thing I know I’m investing in for the long term is my photography practice. Reconnecting to that creative flow over the past couple of years has been profoundly nourishing, and I can feel it opening into something that will continue to evolve over decades, not just projects or cycles. I also see Wardrobe Rituals growing into a kind of hearth, a steady center for creative and spiritual work that offers grounding and orientation for whatever comes next. It feels less like a product and more like a practice that can expand, deepen, and adapt over time.
On a personal level, I’m also in the midst of a major transition, moving from Austin back to New York this year. I don’t expect the full impact of that choice to reveal itself quickly. It feels like a decision whose ripple effects will unfold slowly, shaping my work, relationships, and sense of place over many years.
More broadly, what I’m committing to now is following instinct and tending my spiritual practice, especially my connection to ancestral lineages of artists, outsiders, pagans, and liberation movements. That kind of work rarely has immediate payoff, but it carries a quiet momentum. I don’t get to choose which seeds take root, only to keep showing up, listening, and nurturing what feels alive. In that way, I see myself as part of a longer continuum, contributing to what comes after this moment, even if I won’t fully see where it leads.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.parkeballantine.com
