03/ 11/ 17
I hate that feeling I felt in the year coming up to university. The stress I put upon myself because I hated what I was doing. But I didn’t know what I wanted to do.
The truth is, I still don’t know what I want to do. But I like the fact that I’m exploring. When I think about all the possibilities out there, everything that I can create or contribute to this world, it makes me hungry for success. Not so much monetary success, but a sense of fulfillment.
Transitioning from a business field to a creative one can be confusing. Especially when your surroundings change. I’ve watched many of my close friends whom I studied with for years continue on the path we were headed down together, while I strayed in a completely different direction.
Sometimes I’m confused as to why I haven’t had to add numbers or solve mathematical formulas, because I’ve always understood school to be math and science and charts and graphs. And sometimes I wonder if choosing to pursue a creative career is going to lead me down a path of unemployment and artsy misery.
I have always been exposed to careers in business. From my family, who all work in the commerce sectors, to the many friends around me who are beginning to explore careers in finance, accounting, management and marketing. Never, until recently, have my eyes been opened up to the hundreds of other possibilities that lie in the arts. I’m eager to explore career possibilities in what I always used to regard as hobbies; writing, music, painting, design. My soul yearns for creativity and I never want to stop making and building and cultivating.
I don’t have any regrets in my decision to study communications. I admire the fact that it’s a very open creative field that allows me to explore multiple options and diverse artistic disciplines. But most of all, it has taught me that, well, school doesn’t always have to suck. I won’t always feel like ripping my eyes out from 9-4 monday through friday. I get to make things. Films, sounds, performances. Maybe I will make money making things one day. Who knows.
31/ 01/ 17
Time never stops moving forward but sometimes we do and it feels like the whole world is leaving without us. We breathe easy and stay in place because our feet won’t lift from the ground. Stuck like gum. But we wish we could run, so fast, just to catch up.
We’re so caught up in this idea that we have to move at the same pace as everyone else. We can’t seem to sit down when everyone around us is standing up.
The thing with pain is, you forget how much it hurts once it’s over. I find myself telling everyone it really wasn’t all that bad. Because physical pain is momentary. And emotional pain is not something we want to remind ourselves of. Because you don’t remember the physical pain like you remember the emotional pain. Waking up becomes hard not because your body aches but because your heart does.
They said six weeks was all it would take. But I’m hitting nine and I still don’t fully feel myself. The doctors never take into account the healing of the mind.
Healing takes time. So much time. A lot of waiting. So much so, it feels unnecessary at a certain point. The end goal becomes blurred because you don’t really know what you’re waiting for. To feel better, I guess. But you feel so weak and you tell yourself, I never want to feel this way again. I don’t think you ever fully accept it. But at a certain point, you find a way to come to terms with it.
Out of pain comes strength, and if there’s one thing that healing has taught me, it’s bravery. Overcoming humiliation and fear and treating the sadness as a building block. Because the universe is not against you, but sometimes it makes mistakes. And sometimes we get hurt. If we can’t make art and love out of pain and sadness, take the good out of the bad, how can we overcome the hardships that are thrown at us?
03/ 01/ 17
I’ve tried my best to recollect the year. The positive and the slightly less. Twenty sixteen held a whirlwind of emotions, feelings, memories. So many highs, weighed down by some lows. I can’t lie, it wasn’t always easy. But I’m really struggling to say it was a bad year. Because while the bad times were bad, the good times were really good.
Twenty sixteen was a year of change.
I released my art into the world. It was scary and exciting and also much needed.
I lost my way, I cried over the wrong people and I got hurt. I experienced instability. People came and people went. But I also met the ones that I think will stay.
I started a new chapter. New friends, new projects, new experiences. But I also struggled to move away from the old. New emerged out of the old and I felt torn between future, present and past. Until I found home in two places, and realized that I didn’t have to let go of the old to grab on to the new. I have two hands to keep me balanced.
I touched love and it didn’t shy away. I fell in and out over and over again. I think I will always be in love.
I took long drives and fell in love with the sunset. We danced amongst the warm air with The Lumineers and The Paper Kites as our soundtracks. The sadness always seemed to fade away amongst good company. Summer was a transitional period that left me confused and lost. But come Fall, I found my way.
Twenty sixteen was a year of fun. 3am nights on the back patio after a night of friends and fun. Night busses and falling asleep in the back of the uber. Iconic parties and reckless actions. Thursdays at Reggies, Saturdays wherever the crew was hanging. Concerts. Festivals.
I was light. I laughed a lot. Let myself go. Felt free. I played around. Drank too much. Forgot nights. Kissed strangers. Kissed friends.
I made memories, created nights to remember.
I didn’t stop. Until I came to a crashing halt. November came at a bad time. My body said no. I took a break.
But December came around and so did I. It was filled with reflection but also action. I continued living. I stopped waiting. Finally.
Twenty sixteen was a year of progress and learning. My final thoughts on the year that changed me but kept me grounded;
Favourites of 2016
The Music that Changed Everything in 2016
Cheers, to 2017. I’m excited for what this year has in store for me.
20/ 12/ 16
There’s something about the way the sun sets. The pink sky makes everything seem small. I take comfort in knowing that even when it rains, the sun will always come back. Even the worst of days seem to fade when the sun goes down. I just don’t understand how something can be so perfect. But I don’t think it needs an explanation. The sky mesmerizes, even if just for a few moments.
I could’ve used a sunset today. Sometimes you just have those days, when nothing seems quite right. It’s almost like medicine; a sunset can cure the sadness away. Even thinking about it helps. I’m taken back to warmer days.
I spent my summer searching for the sun. Long drives in good company, travelling to the edge of the island to see the cotton candy sky. We could talk, laugh, and admire the ethereal qualities of the sunset. Everything was easy. Even when it wasn’t, it still felt light when you looked up and watched the sun go to sleep.
The summer sunset hits at the perfect time. Around 8pm, we’d be sitting by the water, staring into the distance. The car ride there was often filled with dismal conversation. We were sad. But the car ride home was always silent. I think it’s because we couldn’t be sad after seeing something so exquisite. When the world has so much beauty to offer, it almost seems like a crime to focus on the ugliness.