I believe a person once told me that if you write something down on paper, it will actualize itself and become true. That’s why I’m holding a piece of notebook paper with ragged edges, torn from its place inside of my math notes, the words “it gets better” scrawled across ignored lines. Except now I’m not so sure what to do with this paper prayer of mine. Is it bad that I feel more heard when I crumple my feelings into a ball and shove them into the contents of my journal than if I were to scream my jumbled thoughts from the top of the Hollywood hills? I’m tired of feeling like a good story with a sad ending; wasted paper.
“You serve the best by doing what you love the most” – Maria Bello.
Let me paint the scene: April of last year, a nervous, sophomore version of myself, and a plastic bag from the Costco photo center resting on both of my palms like a sacrifice to the artistic gods. My eyes glittered not only with excitement to show my peers the finished product of my year-long determination, but also with the hope that my teacher would be proud of my work — of me, more importantly.
My photos were good. I would believe someone if they told me they were great; I would just as easily believe someone if they told me that my work could use major improvement. Looking back now, those photos aren’t my proudest work. Nevertheless, everyone has to start somewhere. I may not ever hang those photos on a gallery wall or submit them as part of my college application portfolio, but they just may be the most important photos I will ever take. They are the 5 photos that made me fall in love with the art of capturing the world’s living beauty.
I don’t think that I do anything exceptionally. I write well and I take a great photo every now and then. I don’t consider myself to be extremely intelligent or anything, either. But I do love what I do with a passion, and in the end, that’s all I really know about life: you have to do what you love and are passionate about.
So when people ask what I want to be when I’m older, I tell them this:
“I love to read and write, and I love to take photos. I love to learn and I love to give back to my community. I want to be happy and I want to end my life knowing that I did everything I ever wanted to do and loved with all of my heart. That’s what I want to be when I’m older.”
Going into the new year of 2018, I want to inspire others to carry that ideal with them. This is a big year for many of the world’s adolescents; anyone born in the year 2000, like myself, will be transitioning into an adult this year. I’m going to be applying for colleges, taking important tests, and finding the place I truly want to spend the next four years of my life in – something that will sprout the entirety of my new adult life. I’m lucky enough to have known what it is I wanted to do since an early age, but if you’re not like me, then it’s perfectly okay. Listen to your heart; The answer really isn’t as far as you might think.
I have a strong feeling this is going to be a year of people telling us, “You can’t.” I get that a lot, as many consider me a dreamer. But if you are loving who you are, what you do, and how you treat others, then someone’s close-minded opinion will not have the power to sway you. It is a year for strength, pursuit, and discovery.
With that in mind, here are the photos that first inspired my discovery. To a new year of beginnings and positive change; let’s take 2018 on together. Santé!
To The Boy With The Kind Eyes
I never liked the color green
until your eyes met mine,
and I melted underneath their gentle hue.
Everyone has a mood hobby. You know, the one thing you can always do when you’re happy or sad or angry. For some, that’s movies: The Fault In Our Stars when they want to be sad, High School Musical when they’re full of joy.
Personally, I prefer poems – specifically, poems from Pinterest. Seriously, you should see my Pinterest board full of words. It’s insane. I spend more time on that app than the twenty-first-century average housewife. I’m not sure why I save every poem I’m drawn to, because there’s definitely over five hundred on that board by now and I rarely look back at the pieces I’ve already read. Anyway, the point is that I’m way too obsessed and I’ve decided to do something about it.
Instead of just being the reader of poetry, I want to become the writer of it. I want my words to be the ones that jump out at a sad girl or a man in love and make them save it to their Pinterest boards – of life, that is. Catch the metaphor.
So, I guess this is my way of announcing my new – and first – series on here. I’m a newbie to the world of poets, and maybe this won’t turn into anything important at all. Or, maybe it will. Either way, get excited; it’s about to get real.
You daydream about it. You make plans and outlines; you do your research. You read too many “Blogging 101” articles that it boggles your mind. And then you wait because, maybe, the time isn’t right.
I’ve been making excuses for myself for far too long. Perhaps the years will get better, or my life will get less stressful, but perhaps the years will get even harder and my life will plow head-on into the pit of the earth. I’ve used up all my “what if’s” and “soon’s”. I’ve come into contact with a now or never conflict. And, because of that, I am now writing my first post on a blog that I should have started years ago.
This should serve as a forewarning for anything and everything I have written or will write on this blog. I could list the many things I am, but most importantly you must know that I am an amateur; not only am I too young to vote, but too naive to know, too insecure to be confident, too uneducated to educate, and too inexperienced to tell of my many experiences. Despite all of the reasons I should not be starting a blog, I have a strong feeling of urgency to get my words out into the world. I have something worthy of sharing with young people like me who have been pushed to revolt from creativity and stay within the lines of tradition. If I don’t share my words, then I will live forever with the feeling of guilt from not at least trying to better others’ takes on our world.
So lean back, turn off all the lights and ignite a few candles or a single lamp (I promise, everything means more in the dark). You’re in for way too many unedited first drafts, possibly overly depressing poems, black and white photography, and annoyingly close-minded worldly opinions from a sixteen-year-old girl who thinks she knows it all. Sorry, I’m not sorry.