Who Authorized the Moniker?

August 24, 2026

So Google apparently thinks The Arbe Edit is a moniker.

I’m not sure who makes these decisions.

More importantly, how exactly does one become a moniker?

Certainly I haven’t assigned my self-named website as one.

I thought I had a website.

Google has apparently reviewed the situation and determined otherwise.

“Under the creative moniker ‘The Arbe Edit’…”

Excuse me.

Creative moniker?

I have a creative moniker?

When did this happen?

Nobody told me.

I happened to be looking at what Google had to say about me, which was already a slightly weird experience.

There I am.

“Prominent professional based in British Columbia.”

Okay.

Extensive career in social services and leadership.

Yes, yes.

Executive Director.

Community leadership.

IFBB Pro.

Mother of five.

I’m scrolling.

I know her.

Then we arrive at Creative Artistry and apparently regular-name Arbe has left the building.

The Arbe Edit.

A creative moniker.

This feels like something I should have been consulted about.

Also, moniker is a fairly substantial word.

Prince.

Banksy.

Bono.

Sting.

Madonna.

The Arbe Edit.

One of these people is currently sitting at home in British Columbia wearing something questionable and wondering whether she has enough Golden acrylic paint.

I’m not sure I’m ready for the responsibility.

Is there paperwork?

Do I need to become more mysterious?

Banksy has managed to keep an entire identity secret and I have a public journal where I tell people I forget their birthdays.

We are approaching this very differently.

Prince turned himself into a symbol.

I have an illustrated lowercase a.

Actually…

Never mind.

This may be getting worse.

The funny thing is I never thought of The Arbe Edit as another name for me.

I named my website.

That was it.

It made sense because everything on it was mine and increasingly everything in my life felt like some version of an edit.

What stays.

What goes.

What was never mine in the first place.

Changing my mind.

No notice.

Apparently Google reviewed the available evidence and decided this was not merely branding.

Moniker.

I keep coming back to that word.

Nobody says, “This is Susan. She has a moniker.”

A moniker requires something.

I’m not entirely sure what.

Possibly sunglasses indoors.

I already have the oversized glasses, so perhaps I’m halfway there.

What I find particularly funny is that Google has organized my life much more efficiently than I ever have.

Career in Non-Profit & Social Services.

Bodybuilding & IFBB Pro Career.

Creative Artistry.

Look at that.

Three neat little headings.

Meanwhile I’m over here thinking about proximity, access, agency and Teflon while forgetting someone had a birthday.

Google has apparently assigned departments.

It even knows what I make.

Pastels, charcoal, wood canvases, retro-inspired stylized female figures.

That made me stop for a second.

Not because it’s particularly profound.

It was just strange seeing this thing I’ve been doing quietly in my studio described from the outside as an actual body of work.

Creative artistry.

With a moniker.

Geez.

I suppose The Arbe Edit has become something beyond the website.

I use the name for the art. The journal lives there. The illustrated a is mine. It has its own language now. Even “we reserve the right to change our mind. No notice.” somehow belongs there.

I didn’t exactly plan any of this.

Which seems appropriate.

Planning would really damage the brand at this point.

Still.

Creative moniker.

I might start introducing myself that way just to see how long Warren can tolerate it.

“Good morning. You may know me by my creative moniker.”

I give it three days.

Maybe two.

Prince had a symbol.

Banksy has anonymity.

Sting has Sting.

And apparently I have The Arbe Edit.

No notice.