smudgy ink

I have a mess of thoughts in my mind that I can’t collect into words quite yet. There is an exhaustion of pages and smudgy ink that I have toiled over, again and again. Trying to etch down my thoughts, but they haven’t come like I hoped. The words wont run smoothly on the page just yet. I think they need more time to soak in the vast light that is not the written page. I’ll give it a few days, then I’ll come back again and try again.  Maybe they just weren’t meant to be smooth and elagent, maybe they are just supposed to be the truth.

m e s s

English 202 // 06

I’m such a mess.
Life is such a mess.
Everything is such a mess.

You’d think I’d be used to this by now…
but I’m not.
I mean, after all,
it’s my name.
I can’t get away from it.

I’m just learning to live it,
with grace,
and love.
With a fullness beyond anything
I can think of.

Everything will be ok,
with time.
If thousands have made it before me.
I can make it,

Even when everything seems
to be uncertain.

– Mess – 

Week in the Life | Two

English 202 // 03

I sat, with my la Croix, on the sidewalk in the middle of a big, bustling city. The sunlight sifted its way through the tree leaves and onto the pavement. I greeted people, I said hello, and I worked until work was done.
That was my Sunday…
M O N D A Y 

I just love how the tiniest things people say can make a difference, how they can make someone smile. There were a lot of those little moments for me today. Moments where someone took the liberty to say something, and it made me smile. And just because of that, it made it a good day.
T U E S D A Y 

I woke up to the sunlight slicing through my window and on my white sheets. The light was golden, the mark of an early morning. I put my hand up in the air, filtering it through the dark, the slice of light, and then back into the dark. Light can penetrate through the darkness, but darkness can’t penetrate through the light. 
I think. I wonder. 
It’s an interesting thing…

W E D N E S D A Y 
Me and my friend.
 We were just two busy bees, 
sitting in a Starbucks 
that smelled like heavenly coffee beans.
 I think this is how 
Wednesday nights are supposed to be.

T H U R S D A Y 

Favorite Smell of the Day:
Tea Steeping and pastries baking.

Addiction of the Day:
Sleep and chocolate.

The Last Thing Googled of the Day:
Weather in Paris.

It’s the last day of September. 
I feel like playing Wake Me Up When September Ends on my drive home. 
Dring high school, my best friend used to always call me at 11:59pm on Septemeber 30th,
hoping I’d wake up, then start playing that song through the phone. He’d laugh and I’d laugh. Then we’d fall back asleep, exhausted and thankful for Green Day writing that song.
Unfortunately, I don’t have anyone to do that with me anymore.
But I have good memories.


Today was a day for:
An early morning. A venti vanilla latte. Forgetting my wallet at home and having to turn around to get it. Drives through heavy traffic. Lots of people, food, and laughs. Surprising my mom and seeing her cry (good tears). And crashing into bed at the end of the day, exhausted but slightly happy this crazy week is over.

From the Café

Just as we sat down in our seats, thunder cracked and rain started to pour from the sky. For being dinner time, it was rather quite in the café. We got there right before the rush. The clatter of plates and the hum of voices soon to come. But right then it was just us, sipping coffee and watching it storm out the raindrop clad windows. I picked up my camera and took a few shots. This is one that I love the most. 

 From the Café // 01


Why are you so disappointed with yourself? 
Why isn’t your art like you wish it could be? 
Why doesn’t your art look like that persons art? 
Why does your art seem plain? 
Why can’t these two hands create something worth seeing? 
These are question you ask your self daily. These are the questions you dwell on at night when all is silent and your laying in bed in a dark room. The answer is simple. It’s been sitting inside you for quite some time now, you’ve just never taken the time to acknowledge it. 
Your current writing. Your current photography. Your current painting. They are not refections of you, your heart, your soul, your passion. Instead, they are refections of other people. The people that you aspire to be. You are trying to mimic what they do, see how they see. Your trying to create something like theirs only to be disappointed when it doesn’t turn out like you thought it would.  Your art is not truly your own, it’s someone else’s. You can never fully copy someone else art. It will never be as good as theirs because you are not them, you do not have their same experiences, likes, passions, or creativeness. It will only turn out to be a dud you’re disappointed with. This is why you are not satisfied with yourself. That is why your art isn’t they way you want it to be. Your to busy trying to be someone else instead of trying to be yourself. 
Turn off your phone. Turn off your computer. Don’t look at Instagram. Don’t scroll through tumblr. All you will do is wish you were more like the people you see. You’ll try to become more like them and less like yourself. 
You need to learn the difference between inspiration and imitation. Once you stop comparing. Once you stop imitating. Once you stop what you are doing. Your work starts becoming your own. You’ll be able to grow and prosper in your creativeness. You’ll become satisfied with your work. You’ll be able to cultivate the things you wish to see. It will become your own. Suddenly, you’ll be able to look at other peoples art as inspiration, not use it for imitation. You’ll be able to become your own person and not a mere shadow of someone else. You’ll be able to go places you never thought you would go. You’ll be able to see things you never thought you would see. It won’t be easy, for sure. Creating art that come from your soul takes a lot of effort and time spent editing and cultivating. But in the end it is worth more than anything.  Stop looking at other people. Stop comparing and imitating. Instead, look within. There is beauty to be found. 
This post is something I wrote for myself. Honestly, I have been struggling a lot lately with my art and creativity. I don’t find it as satisfying as I want it to be. There is always something missing from my photos or paintings.  There isn’t that spark I want from my writing.  Deep down inside, I knew what the answer was.  I knew what I was doing wrong.  I just never took the time to recognize it. So I wrote this as a way of telling myself what I was doing wrong. Hoping that it would finally click with me that I need to stop being a shadow and start being a real creator. Use my two hands for discovering what is inside my heart, instead of trying to mimic others.
 I hope whoever reads this can take away something from it. I hope you can discover that you are a perfectly unique person, unlike anyone else. Your art, your words, your creativity is something no one else can have. Discover what that is in your heart and use it, instead of wasting time trying to shadow someone else.