The mad hustle and bustle of trying to be extraordinary in a context where the absurd is ordinary. I spend 2 hours, sometimes more, getting ready each day. Experimenting, testing, mixing and matching, carefully considering each choice, knowing that none of this really matters, it is all so fleeting. But. In this moment, I enjoy it. Revelling, dancing in the seemingly superficial pleasure drawn from playing with colours, patterns, textures and shapes.
People keep reminding me to focus on why I’m here.
The reminders are appreciated. New York is possibly the most distracting city in the world and the support has been helpful in my attempt to maintain focus. So I dutifully go to the library and I clock my daily hours of researching, reading and writing.
Yes, I am here for school. Yes, I am here to conduct research in order to finish my thesis.
I have also realized that I am here to discover myself as an individual away from home for the first time. I am also here to discover myself as a grown woman.
…with no external energy, expectations or critique policing my decisions before I leave the door is a new space of possibility for me.
I am left free to indeed, focus my energy, but not only on my research. Rather I focus my energy on that internalized police force that casts shade and doubt on my daily desire to colour outside the lines. And each day, during those two hours of prep, inside the affirming madness of this city that never sleeps, I get a little bolder