I imagine most that happen upon this, will somehow because of makeup. I'm unclear on my exact intent regarding starting this blog, aside from documenting my thoughts for myself. Perhaps it's also my near addiction to and adoration of serendipitous transients. Hmm.
I used to write. A lot. Browsing my Livejournal a few months ago, I realized what a different person I had grown into. At the time, I started it simply to vent about Leukemia. Of course it transformed into a ton of other topics and eventually ended up jump starting my career in makeup.
I don't really remember why I stopped writing though. Life? I somewhat wish I had actually written because the past 4 years have been interesting to say the least and I'd love to go back and see just what the hell was going on in my mind. Perhaps it's for the best. This ever overly analytical mind has spent far too much of my life examining the past and dwelling rather than stepping forward.
Today, is new day. While in SF 2 weeks ago, I walked Melody by Harvey Milk's house. The film silently resonated within my being more so than any other had in quite some time. Not because it's about the gay community nor the fight for equal rights. But because his story demonstrates that it's never too late to Live. To hunt down, tackle and capture your dreams, whatever they may be.
Now truthfully, I don't know exactly what my dreams consist of. I've been passionate about so many things in life, it's difficult to choose. Career wise, since I was maybe 7 the desire/goals have gone like this: Veterinarian, Marine Biologist, Dancer, Cardiologist, Middle School Science Teacher, Photographer, and lastly Makeup Artist. I lack focus and my desires continue to change. Yet looking at this list, I've been nearly all of these things, which may be why I never felt the need to pursue them further. No, I have no college degree, but regardless I've been all of these things at some point. I've held and cared for a newborn baby penguin, administered medicine & given sub-cu fluids to the sick ones, weighed and groomed an entire colony of more than 50 animals and performed more necropsies than I would have liked to determine the cause of death. I've fed and studied the behavior of sharks, piranahs, sea lions, sea horses, manta rays, penguins etc. I was never a professional dancer, but after 14 years I think I earned the title regardless. I've taught science (mainly evolutionary concepts and biology) to people ranging in age from 5-60. I shy away at the title of photographer, as I've only taken 2 classes; it's more of a hobby. But I suppose the title fits. Makeup Artist...well, ya know.
So here I am, living in Brooklyn, 2 months away from my 30th birthday. It took me 8 years and several attempts to get here, but I'm here. Finally. Now what? Now. To some degree, I feel like my life has just begun. Everything I described in the previous paragraph seems to be a lifetime ago. So what now?
I was told yesterday, "You don't know who you are." Coming from someone who's known me for almost a decade, forced his words to echo in my brain and tear at my gut. Despite the sting, I disagree. I think we all instinctively know who we are. And it's not about knowing, but rather being. Ditching any and all fears about being, and just doing it. See, most of us, if not all, are born into expectations we did not set for ourselves. And many spend their entire lives trying to fulfill those expectations. But are they yours? If not, why even bother fulfilling them?
The "norm" states to go to school, get a degree, have a career, a mate, a family, a house, a pet and then pretty much die. Do I want this? To some degree, yes. With 30 creeping up on me, my body is telling me I want kids. A pet is easier, and though I love animals, that's too much responsibility at the moment. If I want to pick up tomorrow and hop on a plane to Africa, simply because I want to go, I don't want to have to care for anything or anyone else. A "mate" would be nice, but said person will need to fit with me. Fit, meaning either come and explore the world with me, or be okay with me doing it without you. That's all I want from the "norm" list.
This summer was made of endless days of creation and very little expectation. Which is why I've thrived. So can I answer, "what's next?" In a single word: Freedom.