Some people want to own things. And sure, we all like things, we buy things for our homes to improve them and other things to simplify our lives outside of our homes. But I gravitate toward people and experiences. Once I realised how much it would cost me to begin the business of Trésor de la Mer, I had zero problems sacrificing purchases of things in order to pay for the experiences I would need in order to create my art. One thing I had coveted was a vintage jewelry piece by a couture designer. I had been ogling it for years online [still am], and earlier this year I began budgeting accordingly when I realised I was probably doing well enough to afford the monstrous cost. But all that went out the window when I started creating these art photos with the uber awesome Brandon Howard Photography empire in Florida. I still want it, but I want these experiences more right now.
I hold experiences with other people close to my heart. When I've met musicians or actors whose work I've followed, it has always been so important to me to have that moment of conversing with them, and hopefully a photo to save the moment. I couldn't care less about an autograph. I need to interact with people. That's what I remember. Sometimes they're visibly enamoured with me, which I love; after admiring them from afar, it's wonderful to see them ready and happy to engage with me. And sometimes, when I've run into those people later on, it has warmed my heart when they've said "hey I remember you." An autograph would never warm my heart like that.
It's the same with friends. I have a friend I've struggled with over the last year. He is a truly beautiful person that I adore, but somehow things went awry, and with him being away so much these days, it's been so hard to find a moment to interact with him in person, to say "let's figure this out," and maybe make a fresh start. It gnaws at me. It creates fear in my heart. As much as I've enjoyed my life this year, with all its new turns and ethereal underwater experiences, I feel like I can't truly celebrate my accomplishments until I've fully resolved things with him. In my mind I frequently revisit the fondness and security I'd felt with him in moments passed, on outings, or just sharing thoughts in conversation. To think I might never experience that again leaves me hollow and forlorn, and evokes a sense of failure - how did I fail this person, and how do I fix it?
Brandon has also been a good friend. He has coached me through this new, somewhat intimidating underwater modeling territory, helping me with breathing and posing techniques, and providing an ear for when I've been frustrated with my own inexperience or just life in general. Our interactions with others are priceless. There is an episode of SVU where one of the detectives says "Humans are social creatures. Prolonged isolation warps our humanity." I wholeheartedly believe this. We all need each other, even if we can't always admit it. And so I eagerly look forward to my next modeling session, coming up at the end of the month, and I look forward to the day when my anonymous friend will allow us to heal our ruptured - but fortunately not broken - friendship.