He grabs my hip bone while we kiss. His tattooed shoulder is close against my face and the eyes of a skull are staring at me. It's framed with crimson flowers; a softening juxtaposition. For a second, the ink melts together until it's just a mess of red and black. Before this, the shoulder had black pyramids and red flames. Before that, the shoulder had black bird silhouettes against the red stripes of a rising sun. Black and red shoulder tattoos are some sort of prerequisite for dating me. I guess I'm pretty specific.
I never even notice them at first. They're usually covered up by a plaid shirt or winter jacket. I only spotted the first one because he dressed like a 1950's greaser with slicked-back hair and white sleeves pressed up high. Dreamy. A regular Cry-Baby with one jet black strand out of place above his furrowed brow. Blue eyes. He could be some kind of anime protagonist come to life with his big blue eyes. Maybe he looks more like Jake Gyllenhaal with charming dimples and perfect teeth. Maybe he looks just like G-Eazy, towering above everyone else. We talk all night and wander along a moonlit beach, running away from the cold water. We stare at each other awkwardly at a house party. We share an electric kiss on a rooftop overlooking the city.
On our first date, he takes me to La Vie, I dress up in a faux fur jacket and put on a fake septum ring. He takes me to Mr Pickwicks in Long Street, I sport a grey tank top and a snow-white fringe. He takes me to see Suicide Squad, I wear a Daddy's Lil Monster tee and sexy stockings. We figure out that our paths have crossed before because we know each other's friends. Chris introduced us. We already know that we both know Jamy because it was his house party. I'm surprised he works with Robin, oh, Chris and Jamy too? Full circle.

We have conversations about everything. We laugh at inside jokes. We can't get enough of each other. He becomes my muse. I feel like a muse. I feel like Edie rambling around Andy's Factory. I'm inhaling on cigarettes and tripping over soup cans. My eyes are painted black and I laugh as my long earrings routinely cause trouble by getting themselves caught in clothing. A silver crucifix is stuck in his sweater. If you turn it upside down, it matches the tattoo on his chest. Scratch that, it's tossed onto my night-stand.
We analyse books. We discuss movies. We recommend comedians. We dissect lyrics. We dance with abandon. He photographs me. We try weird food. He writes poetry about me. We passionately sing along to old songs. I paint all over his graffiti-covered walls. I draw him. I film him. Camera girl, swing the focus. A clip of him jumping off of a balcony. A clip of him putting make up on me. A clip of us kissing. There's so much music. My heart heals when he's touching me to familiar tracks. We make art. We make promises. We make love.
One day, he takes me to see the flamingos because he knows I love them. He sets up a scavenger hunt for me to find a book he bought me. We build a fort with fairy lights and watch a Japanese horror movie. There's a full moon the night he tells me he's in love with me. We're sitting on the edge of the bed when he pulls me to a stand and says he's never felt like this before. He pushes his forehead up against mine in his apartment, saying he thought someone like me would never exist. We are intoxicated with butterflies, tangled in one another, enraptured by each other...until we're not.
To them, I must melt into the other girls too. Another blonde. Another set of big eyes. Another foreign accent. For a moment though, it feels unique and it feels like anything is possible. For a moment, I see them and they see me. For a moment, everything is exactly as it should be. I close my eyes and hold him tight.

I remember once telling a poetry snob that my favortie poem was Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening by Robert Frost. "How pedestrian, that's like high school English 101" they replied. Not everything that is well-known or popular is automatically lame, angsty teen. In any case, I still adore the poem for many reasons. Sometimes less is more, you don't need to produce a complex and verbose work to be good. If you can do something simple really well, it creates that much more of an impact.

Before things got so busy and fast-paced in my life it used to be about chaos, dreams and going with the flow. I love the contentment that comes with having free time; there's always some fun I want to have, some idea I need to write down, a new album to listen to or a new conversation to have. I'm tired of putting my passion on hold in the name of obligations, passion never belongs on the backburner; I'm just terrible at multi-tasking.

I love sewing, creating, coming up with ideas and concepts, I hate deadlines, rigid rules and instructions. I know I would make something crazy amazing with more time on my hands, I would slowly develop my clothing, embellishing and treating it with some serious TLC. I'm thinking of taking another gap year when I'm finished, I took one after high school and it was one of the best decisions I've ever made. If you're at a point in your life where you want to follow your heart and do something - don't listen to negative Nancys telling you why it's a bad idea. Do it. Don't underestimate the importance of freedom, freedom to do what you want, when you want and with who you want.

Don't be taken for a ride. Ask questions, be vigilant, read the fine print, the system does not look out for you so you have to look out for yourself. People will always try to get something out of you so be unpredictable, bluff when necessary and never let anyone manipulate you or tell you what to do because only you know what you want.

Above all, trust your heart, always. x

Right now I'm smack in the middle of the Project Runway challenge in 2nd year. We have a R700 budget and right now I've spent about R480. I still have to buy shoes and get eyelets put in. Not that there is anything but fabric at the moment. I have my concept down and my fabric bought, now I must do the prep art work and the patterns for it. I'll spend tonight doing some art.

I figured out one of my problems, I have trouble making a decision and sticking to it. The design process is so spontaneous but there isn't always time to be inspired when you have a strict deadline. So this time I've settled on it, I can see the outfits in my mind, clear as day, all I have to do is put it all together. Wish me happy sewing please, we only have 7 days and have to do the whole thing at college, so there's no room for messing up Mondays or anything of that sort. I was finishing off my jeans (which fit, yeah!) and overlocking like a maniac and when I returned to top stitching my inside leg seam and sewing up the side seams ( I adore side seams) I was thrilled at how much fun I was having.

When you have a great sewing day, it feels like you're a sculpturer, a painter creating an inspired work. You feel this strength that comes from turning something into nothing that is unlike anything I have ever felt. This meaning, this outcome, that moment makes all the hardship worth it. I told myself that, sometimes, you're not always good at what you like, at what you enjoy. Passion can pressure you, it can interfere when you're nervous. I just have to learn to let it ebb and flow naturally, to do what feels instinctual. Those moments have come with practise, they happen more frequently now. I must believe in myself and my ability, not be a prisoner of my over-analytical mind that stumbles over fears and freezes my progress.

I've had people react disappointingly to my endeavor. Even if it's just imagination, I've had so many moments of doubt where I want to grimace at innuendos and euphemisms that imply something negative about my "talents". Basically speed is revered and means you're good. But I don't ever give it too much attention, I'm going to be the girl who proves that you don't have to pick something up instantly like a fast burning prodigy to be amazing at it in the end. The mistakes I've made have only made lessons stick. I want everyone to know that their dreams are challenging because they're right, not because they're wrong. We are not puzzle pieces, we are evolving beings slowly growing into a perfect fit. And I just know. I just know this is what I have to do with my life because I've felt that feeling, however fleeting; of meaning, of absolute confidence and joy with what I'm doing, that natural pull that I cannot stay away from.

Have an amazing week!