When I first moved, life felt full of rushes and new things to explore. Life was presenting me with something new and exciting and I took that by the horns. I would go on walks, take pictures, stare in awe at everything. Now, the city I live in isn't really my kind of city, but I do love going to Downtown and just chilling out. It's been a while since I first moved now and... there goes that excitement. I guess it already died down and I'm left feeling a little claustrophobic. I like to call myself an artist, for various reason, and out of a humble place. I like seeing beauty in things not commonly beautiful, and, also, beautiful things. I like capturing the essence of them, either it be in the form of a photo or.. a makeup look. I see spring and feel inspired to paint my face with lots of colors. But lately... it's been different. I feel.. lost. I pick the brushes up and look at the palettes and find absolutely no images in my brain.
That place I go to when I feel a little somber is filled with terrible truths, ones that I cannot seem to get out of my head. It's very easy to feel depressed when you're away from the places you are used to. I want to say I've held my head up throughout it but it's been horrible at times. Don't get me wrong, I like being where I am and feel loved. But we are all the makers of our own demise and I can't help but feeling a little hopeless at times. It's ridiculous, but, it's true. I hate feeling that way.
I try my hardest to find something that sparks a little flame of inspiration inside me. I do stare in that little hand mirror I own and try thinking of something that'll look good, a flesh canvas awaiting me. I try my hardest to think of a happy thought, something along the lines of... a bird chirping, the detail of its wings and the intricate colors, or the grass swaying all to one place as the wind brushes over them. I try finding that one little trigger.
And it's okay to be uninspired. To move slow while everything else goes too fast. I like taking my time too. And when I can't find that little spark, I just write. Like I do now. I write my feelings and maybe tomorrow I find it and ignite that thing inside me that makes me excited to wake up and put a ton of makeup on my face.
I guess that's exactly what I need right now.
To talk to you, whoever's reading this, and... feel better. Do you feel better?
Much love,
P x
I try my hardest to find something that sparks a little flame of inspiration inside me. I do stare in that little hand mirror I own and try thinking of something that'll look good, a flesh canvas awaiting me. I try my hardest to think of a happy thought, something along the lines of... a bird chirping, the detail of its wings and the intricate colors, or the grass swaying all to one place as the wind brushes over them. I try finding that one little trigger.
And it's okay to be uninspired. To move slow while everything else goes too fast. I like taking my time too. And when I can't find that little spark, I just write. Like I do now. I write my feelings and maybe tomorrow I find it and ignite that thing inside me that makes me excited to wake up and put a ton of makeup on my face.
I guess that's exactly what I need right now.
To talk to you, whoever's reading this, and... feel better. Do you feel better?
Much love,
P x
