#metaphorphosis

[crimson-and-clover-1717]

I can’t get over the butterflies. I had to smash together a vid. 🦋🦋

[metaphorphosis]

Mi cielo

¿A dónde habrás ido a no parar, de alejarte, hermosa niña?

¿Dónde te habrás quedado hoy a dormir?

Tendrás frío, ¿dormiste bien?, ¿cómo amaneciste?

Una vez me dijo un francés que el español estaba mal, que le preguntaron cómo amaneció y no supo que responder, -la gente no amanece-, respondió

Sólo el cielo y la mañana amanecen, así como la gente no llueve o no truena ni relampaguea, así como no anochece.

Yo creo que en español eso es un acierto, porque en cambio, es evidente que el cielo si entristece, se encolera, o que el Sol se esconde y regresa.

Y por su parte, la gente se ilumina, se oscurece, llueve después de nublarse, y se despeja.

Concluyendo, estés donde estés, amor mío, espero que amanezcas bien, mi cielo.

-Metaphorphosis-

[stardoes]

It’s a metamorphosis

[alineridolfi]

Metamorphosis #Cover - Christos Kourtoglou

[dynamicbovine-blog]

On Giving Up & Taking Down

Yesterday, while standing at the edge of a cliff overlooking the beach in La Jolla, I watched the sun set.

When the sun looks like it's about 6 inches from the horizon, it feels like it's taking forever to move. Indeed it looks as perfect as a postcard, but you wonder when the hell that thing will set; if it ever will. As it stays there, the colors around it become more prominent, the fading from blue to orange to the mixture of the two: that almost indescribable purple hue that could make you think of romance and death at the same time. The sky is a funny thing, moments before the sun threatens to disappear. When the sun is 6 inches away from the cutoff line, you really wonder how long it'll take for it to leave.

It almost seems like it's not moving, and though you've come there to see it set, you don't realize that if there was a moment you'd ever want to freeze in time, this would be it. And this is as close as we can get—these minutes, before we're only centimeters apart from setting; from evening; from ending.

Then the sun falls only centimeters away before its form vanishes, though its light stays. Although it seemed to take several moments to get that close, you can almost see how fast it's moving to disappear in sight. I watched as its curves fell victim to the boundary set by the horizon of the ocean. In seconds, seconds I no longer anticipated, the sun was gone. And the blue, orange, and purple hues I spent so much time adoring instead of the sun were all that remained.

I missed the sun and knew it'd be back again tomorrow, but for some reason breathed a sigh defeat when it left. Cold as it was on the cliff, giving up the view and walking away from that moment made me wonder why we torture ourselves with beautiful things that will know have to inevitably end.

It wasn't giving up. It was just over.

And the least anyone can do is just wait for dawn.

[dynamicbovine-blog]

The Art of Putting Out

I don't think I've ever been quite that nervous.

He's probably been with people I could only imagine to meet; people far more experienced than me. I couldn't help but fidget in my new blouse and pencil skirt. God, was it hot in there. And shit, those shoes were starting to feel uncomfortable. I almost forgot what I rehearsed to say, or if there was a right or wrong thing to say at all.

Don't talk about the Jonas Brothers. Don't talk about mangoes. Just be cool, Asia. Just play it cool. What if I'm disappointing? I've never done this before, not in this way.

I walked away with his number.

And then I got hers.

And when I opened my wallet to find a tiny stack of business cards belonging to other journalists I met that weekend, the nervousness finally felt worth it.

Last weekend I attended the Asian American Journalists Association convention in Detroit, MI. Equipped with newly printed business cards and a luggage full of "professional clothes" that I swore would make me look "the part," I had no idea how to sculpt my expectations. Or if I'd be worthy of anyone else's.

Hands shaken, cards exchanged, friends made, numbers taken. I'm not going to lie and say that I didn't breathe in the air of intimidation, as nearly everyone I encountered already worked at established news stations nationwide. But I'm also not going to say I didn't try my hardest to walk up to people, introduce myself and make an impression that would make me damn memorable even though I'm still just a student.

That weekend, more than ever, I felt the importance and responsibility to put myself out there.

Often walking around with a stick up my ass and a safety net in my hands, there have been a number of missed opportunities in my life that were thought about long after they stood before me. Imagining the "what could have been" and "if only I'd..." situations happens to anyone that tames an impulse. That comeback that could have been uttered, that guy we could've gotten to know a little better, that hand we should've shook. No matter the size of the situation, the fact of the matter is that it is difficult to succumb to an impulse when the possibility of failure is greater than the chance at success.

But despite the gamble, and the unknown (yet often assumed) odds, there is always the constant truth that time moves forward. 

OK, don't shoot me for busting out with those "time heals all" and "life is a gamble" cliches. I truly believe that we are all just winging it through life. If you look at that one person that has it all together and start to feel bad about yourself, then you're just as full of shit as them.

This summer I have finally taken the initiative to put myself out there more than I ever thought possible. It's scary, every time. It's rewarding, every time. It's an experience that helps me learn, every time.

If you're afraid of looking like a fool, know that you have your whole life to get over it. You won't, however, have your whole life to put yourself out there. Be yourself. Let them know why you're there. Yes, you have your family and friends, but you can't always rely on the people that you already know to prove to others why anyone should give a shit about you.

Take the initiative and let people know why they should give a damn.

Introduce yourself to the president of that company you hope to work for. Ask that potential soul mate for a phone number. Take those "what if"s and turn them into "remember when"s.

Most hate the idea of putting themselves out there. They hate the vulnerability. I get that. I live that. I am that. But putting yourself out there doesn't make you less guarded. Rather, it breaks in your armor. It gives it the wear and tear that truly protects the individual throughout life. It reserves the right for you to say, "I tried." And you'd be surprised how many and how often people allow a fear of vulnerability to strip them of their right to say that.

Why let pride get in the way of the chance to be truly proud of yourself?