"I don't need refined sugar because my life is already sweet"

"The best life is one which cannot be replicated by an algorithm."

Ceci, c'est ma meilleure aspiration de vie. 

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Curiosity conceived a creative cat

Une petite fille avec des grands rêves

 
Creative entrepreneur

*Casting Directors / Agents / Entrepreneurs / Recruiters: Please see direct links below.

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Summer 2020
Scorpion

Most girls own many shoes; I’m no different.

But my shoes are. They’re not endless variations of same Jimmy Choos. Each launches me on an adventure, transforming me into different

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Yes, a roadmap is necessary; otherwise I guarantee you will be (even more) thoroughly confused. However, reading the roadmap does not guarantee enlightenment. Apologies in advance for a purposefully perplexing design. Good luck navigating this enigma of (my) life - welcome to my world.

 In figure skates, I’m a dream-chaser.

At five, I tasted pixie dust. Unable to practice daily, clumsiness glued itself to my blades. Adieu, gold medal. Farewell, skates. My feet protested, so I retried. I saw two older beginners – beaming pridefully. Older skaters became my inspiration, breaking my belief real skaters are young medalists, proving passion doesn’t mean perfection. It wasn’t about medals or outcompeting girls who practiced daily. Impracticality was the mistake withholding my gold – passion. I competed with me from yesterday, catching gold.

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 In military boots, I’m a shipmate.

Stuck with the scariest officer, we sailed towards failure. But I approached my officer. Apparently, she might never see her sick father again. I saw humanness in someone I imagined as half-alien – another girl with parents and heartaches like me. Vulnerability connected us. We’re the first female Honor Division.

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In wedges, I’m a mess-maker.

Extracurricular-bombardment was my lane to perfection. Wrong: overwhelming activities plus a goal of perfection equals catastrophe, not fulfilment. You can’t go north and south with two feet. I couldn’t wear skates, boots, wedges simultaneously. Some passions must go, so bigger ones could flourish.

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Lacing up tennis shoes, I ran

from problems, chasing yesterday; I wanted to be the designer, pianist – everything I was. Time doesn’t wait; we can’t stay in the same shoes for a lifetime. I put some away; I trimmed branches so my tree grows stronger, straighter. While my interests widened, I narrowed my passions, concentrating on one path towards fulfilment, not fleeting indulgence. Give or take. I gave. Life’s every facet is a sand mandala. I can merely embrace each moment before it’s gone with the wind. Life’s a picture, memories are photos, we’re the camera. We can catch anything, even if it’ll melt.

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Running is my morning habit.

On a new route, never had hills been so mesmerising! But picturesque landscapes weren’t San Diego exclusives. Back home, I slowed. I’ve seen the landscape countless times with my eyes, but with my heart for the first. A proverb mocks people who “pick up seeds and forget the watermelon.” But we should appreciate the seeds that become the watermelon; they’re the hues illuminating life’s colourful canvas.

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creativity: the colours of life
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   If my shoes chafed my feet during the day, I retreat to fuzzy slippers at the end.

No matter who I was or will become, I’ll always be a granddaughter, daughter, sister.

 

Without shoes, who am I? One-quarter Wilde, one-eighth Chopin, one-sixteenth Einstein, one-thirty-secondth Chanel, one-sixty-fourth Michelle Kwan … half alien, plus one-sixty-fourth Pandora … I’m not Chopin not because I’m a girl; I’m not Einstein not because I’m not into explosions; I’m not Wilde not because that’s taken.

I’m the girl with fuzzy tennis shoes with blades and military bootstraps.

Creative entrepreneur

You don’t just grow into and out of shoes; you walk countless steps in between –

steps bearing unique footprints: my skates decorate the ice with swirls; my boots imprint dusty marks of discipline onto concrete; my slippers from the shower paint watercolor trails. Each is a story – a legacy.

 

Following footprints doesn’t foster imagination. No yellow brick road leads to Oz. But a purple, bluelilac – one does. The Oz at that end is more miraculous. While I can’t wear all my shoes on my next journey, I’m equipped with them, so I can wear whichever when the time comes. In skates, I’m a girl with dreams. In boots, I’m a girl with guts. In tennis shoes, I’m a girl with a direction. In slippers, I’m a girl with an attitude.

Without shoes, I’m a girl with ideas, inspiration, imagination. With curiosity.

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​     My shoes are the tools propelling me upwards on the infinite ascent of becoming, rather than stuck wallowing in the mud of being.

 
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