I don’t think I’ve ever been as happy in life as I am right now. This is one of those moments where you absolutely must start writing things down, before the words disappear and the magic fades. I feel so present in life, and I’m not all too sure what that really means, but it feels like exactly the right word to use.
Everything around me is speaking to me. Everywhere I go, beauty is just pouring from everything and I can’t tell if I’m finally seeing life for what it really is, or I am just the beholder with young and open eyes. Should life really feel this good or is it merely a rose-tinted illusion?
I’m trying to write the words down but they are fast escaping me.
For my whole entire life I have been a lone soldier, sometimes striding with pride and other times crawling in desperation, but whichever way I got here I did it by myself. No, I didn’t study art. No, it doesn’t run in my family. No, I don’t have a clue what I’m doing. But the answer that did get me here was Yes. I can fucking do this. I don’t understand what gave me such motivational pride or how I’ve managed to cling on for so long with bleeding fingernails when every emotional breakdown is pushing me over the edge. Who am I trying to prove something to?
All I know is that I’m terrified of time running out, of regret and feeling dissatisfied, looking back on a life that could’ve been. I want to be the best I can be and more, I want to reach past the stars and into the next galaxy. Sometimes it's so fucking hard when the only support you have is your own spine and you question why the hell you’re still trying - heck, why did I even start taking photos in the first place?
And then I look around and everything is just screaming at me to run, run, RUN head-first in the same direction, to keep going, going, going and never, ever stop, because I CAN be something incredible if I just keep believing in myself. I can’t even begin to describe how much beauty is around me.
Just today, on the way to meet a stylist for coffee, the Autumn leaves are softly shifting around the pavements and I catch a glimpse of myself in the car window, wearing my cool thrift store denim jacket and tartan scarf. At the cafe, the stylist turns up and we begin to talk business and words stream everywhere like a waterfall from my mouth and I have to stop myself and realise that this very meeting is going to be the start of the rest of my life, that she is the key to the industry and the circles within, that my career starts HERE and NOW and how can people possibly contain themselves in these situations? And so we discuss ideas and who she knows over herbal tea and sparkling water and she’ll get in touch with this person and this person, and then she leaves.
I lay back in the middle of the cafe and just stare at the ceiling. What even is life? How can this be happening? And I come to realise that I made it happen. I. Made. It. Happen. And I thank myself for never, ever stopping and I’ll be damned if I’m ever gonna stop now.
I spend the next few hours getting my head together, planning and organising and I even called the modelling agency - something I’ve been trying to do for over a year now. But despite the sick feeling in my stomach, I called them, fumbled my words, and she asked for me to email my website over.
I pay up and I walk home as fast as I can just admiring the world. Everyone is running about with their own dialogues just like mine in their head, living their own lives, perhaps motivating themselves or about to give up, and I can HEAR everything as well as I can see it. Even in the trees and the light and the cars and my footsteps, I can hear life calling out to me and encouraging me to carry on, that I’m doing the right thing and ain’t nobody gonna stop me.
When I get home I go out onto the balcony to have a moment of peace, and this bird is just soaring back and forth, higher and higher from left to right and back again, right in front of my eyes. It’s not often that you get to watch a bird for a long time. They normally fly off never to be seen again, but this one was just circling the courtyard, putting its natural ritual on display for me and I wondered if that bird feels the same way about life as I do.
I had to come in and lay on the bed and just hold myself as tight as I could, hold onto this feeling of love, of passion, of excitement, awe, amazement, for who knows when it’ll disappear and I’ll be back to my low, lonesome self and all I'll long for is to feel as good as I do now.
And so I had to try and write this down.
Life is what you make it, and boy, am I making it.