Let's talk makeup #idontknowwhatimdoing and how to love your day job. Seemingly unrelated but beautiful and almost meaningful when they both work out.
In the past few months I've been having a real life crisis. Given that from ages 12 - 17 I was participating in an existential one - this was new, odd and not so good news. Since officially leaving the world of being a teenager a few months back I feel like a real runner. Let me explain, I've never thought that life starts at 20 - not at all. As my mother will promptly remind me in her cheeky fashion, I am still a youth and won't be a 'real' adult until age 30. But that doesn't quell the feeling that life is running away from me. Maybe it's in my inability to stay up late and just bounce back on 2 hours of sleep, that and the fact that I no longer look tired in a chic way - more a fresh from the dead tired.
Despicable - much in the same way many creatives (allow me to put that particular hat in my arsenal on) abhor the 9-5 grind. It's seen as something temporary. Here for now until you make it - but let life hit you with a sack of cold hard bricks hashtagged straight facts. You might not ever get to ditch your 9-5, check the story of a nanny in NY who was an extraordinary photographer in her heyday, check this timeline of people who did sh*t. You might not get your props for 5 months, 10 years or this life time.
Thus creating becomes something of an enemy and a friend - frenemy? It's hard to let go of the sh*t that makes you feel alive. Whether that be running numbers through your mind, garbage collecting etc. We all have a passion, but alas life isn't so linear. Life is a giant rollercoaster that may make you vomit your lunch back up. It's wild and you don't even remember how you got strapped in.
Enter makeup - it's not all truth and the dreary almost facts of life. I don't know when I fell into it. But halfway between oggling my pal B's amazing skin (#koreanskincare) and rifling through tumblr I was hooked. Goodbye money! Who needs to buy a new item of clothing when I could get face mist, highlighter and glow like I'm the mother fucking sun son? So here I am, bumbling about in a few of my fave made up looks I've never actually worn out of the house. In part because I'm still stuck on abusing highlighter, have nowhere to go and also have a penchant for rubbing my eyes and forgetting.
To both the creative pursuits of the face and otherwise I say keep going, we aren't exhibitionists right? Sometimes you do because it feels good to sacrifice for art. It feels good to do what you shouldn't; like eat donuts when diary is the Mercurio to your digestive systems Romeo. I'm not sure if that made sense.