…is to live a charmed life. From the outside in, people look at my life and comment on how glamorous it is. What fun I must be having. 24/7. An uncomfortable number of individuals get a snippet into my quotidian life via social media, many see my photography on better platforms and a modest number of patient perusers read my words. By and large, its all images. The world through my lens appears to be a beautifully constructed, consciously fun-loving and ambitious tableau of the best aspects of life. An enviously frivolous life. I see why many might take that view. And I could sit here and write till I’m blue explaining all the ways, all the very real reasons, why that’s not true. But it is – to some extent. We’ll ignore the less favourable side and focus, as per, on the beautiful aspects of life as I see it.
I try to live every day with a sense of purpose, no matter how small. My goals are not clear cut – “I want to be a doctor,” “to have a big family,” “to save humanity,” although that would be nice – they are very abstract by anyone’s standards and yet I know what they feel like. I know when I’m veering off course or when I’m stumbling into the right direction. Sometimes an idea, or stepping stone if we’re being career-crazy, materialises in front of me and from that moment on I cannot let go of it until it’s realised. I like to think that’s grit. Some may simply call it stubbornness.
I appear to live a charmed life because I, rather stubbornly, make a never-ending bee-line for inspiration. I write about inspiring people to inspire others; I try to freeze the glory of a moment with my camera; I read to learn and grow and mostly to escape; I surround myself with those who are older and wiser than me, who are living a life different from mine and whose stories I exist vicariously in – all to be, endlessly, inspired. I want to be bathed in the suff. And, sometimes, I’m rewarded for it. I love the duality of escapism, finding you only needed to witness the work and passion of another to feel you are not alone. The way I feel when discovering a new artist or listening to freshly collated sounds from my favourite musicians has become like a drug for me. Nothing beats the freedom that comes from being creative. Granted, their are sacrifices and worries and struggles and therefore tears. Rather sadistically, this is what makes it all worth it in the end. Of a project. Because, on to the next.