Self-Journalizing. Is that a word? It is now.

Passion is my medium. What makes one happy right now, in this moment? My love is a well written story. He keeps me grounded, focused, yet pushes me to do better, to be better and sometimes, to just let it flow. His past is ever unfolding, taking his time to explain himself, but in the end, is always worth it. Music is my everlasting friend. Her mood is ever changing, an amorphous butterfly, prismatic, dark and light, colors within undefined lines. She dances to the beat of her own drum, ever flowing, touching down to leave an impression only to take flight again. Yet she picks me up when my heart meets the ground and never ceases to amaze me. Photography is my child. With her, it is a constant state of nurture, let live, and watch her grow. With little hands, she reaches out to touch, hear, smell everything. With big glassy eyes, she wants to consume the world yet understand in her mind why it is the way she is and wants to share her discoveries. She wants to remember. She wants to be remembered. Some day, she will be.

Occasionally, I spew word vomit. I do not pretend to be a great writer, nor photographer. Both are my happy mediums that I've kept so close to home. At this point, my brain is screaming for me to let them out of the house, give them some fresh air, new perspectives, so that they may grow. Internally, it is both nerve-wracking and liberating at the same time. With a little love and guidance as well as discipline and motivation, I know that both will thrive in some way. As long as they continue to grow, I am happy. I've come to terms with the idea of change being something inevitable. Heck, I've come to embrace it. That fear of failure paws at me less and less. It knows to get back, most of the time.

It has been a long journey, most of it having been spent inside myself, trying to figure out ways to be better, strengthen myself without letting the expectations of the world get me down. Questioning everything at a younger age as far as meeting society's standards, beginning as a small child, along the way, I somehow lost track of her, this bold, free-spirited, defiant me. She was always there, however, watching, learning, growing. Recently (as in within the past half a year), she really started making herself known. Occasionally, she'll still get lost, but she'll always come back with more wisdom to share, more stories to tell.

When you see a glass box, shine a light through it, what do you see? Look at the way the light shines through. Is it warm, like a memory you want to hold onto? Or do you look at the way the light and shadows dance with each other, balancing each other out? This is what Glassbox is to me: a series of events, mostly unrelated to each other, that are kaleidoscopic memories of things that we don't want to forget. They tell a story, invoke an emotion, and hopefully grip you in ways you'll want to come back to over and over again. Glassbox is a reflection of me, the business, spiritual, all sharing, forever learning, and growing side of me. It is human. It is animal. It is a far away place. It is your favorite object you grew up with. It is the sound of intoxicating mental freedom. It is your favorite story. It is many things, but most of all, it is Change.