I think lately I've been questioning my own identity. It's not as bad as if I was in middle school, but I still have been unsure for quite some time now. I easily pick up the passions of others, which I love, but sometimes I fear that pieces of me get lost along the way.
I guess now is the first time in a long time that I am trying to just keep this identity between me and my Saviour.
Whenever I look at the things that other people write, or the way they design their space, I see a part of them. I think that the reason I thought of this was because I looked at the layout of this blog. It's so simple, boring, but at the same time, it's so me. I like beautiful simple things. I like straight edges and geometric shapes. I love the color blue and the art of ballet. I admire the organic, but that's not me.
But I don't fit into your box.
On my dresser you can find two of my favorite things to look at: peacock feathers and daisies. Both I have adorned with blue.
I started loving daisies the first time I saw Harold and Maude. Harold says he feels most like a daisy, because when looking out over a field they all seem alike. Maude points out that error in this thinking, because each one is purely unique, and that those who are daisies should not let themselves be treated like just a part of a field, but choose to embrace their differences.
I think I'm a daisy.
I've never been showy like a sunflower, stretching to the sun to be seen. I like being a daisy.
I imagine myself dancing in Ansel Adam's snow covered forests, in a bright white dress. I love the raggedness of my friends, who embrace the dirt that I shy away from. I want to invite you into my world, which is one of order and magic, of glorious beauty and wonder. And in my world, I am a child and a mother, and a lover and a friend. I love my friends and they love me, and I am finally, finally free.
Once I am free, you will know it. I will be dancing eternally.
