I was in a bit of a time crunch and interesting situation so I forgot to even say,
we pour our emotions, opinions, interests, pretty much our hearts into one place with text, it becomes our emotional home. Home is where the heart is...
I realized I made a sort of attachment to this niche, and it feels strange that it might poof disappear.
For some reason, the only place I can write without filtering my mind is here. I think I've created a type of attachment to this environment. Whenever I see this white box, my mind unlocks itself.
Behind this new haircut is a heartache burning. It's something I had toyed with and at times yearned for, knowing the change would be welcome, but I was too scared ot do it myself. So, after listening to me complain, debate, declare the hour I would cut my hair, my mom finally got fed up with me and took me to the haircuttery in Taiwan and I said, what the hell, I don't want to argue with her in public, so I sat my butt in the chair.
It's as if as I was still deciding, he had already finished cutting.
You know how that one item you have, that one haircut, that one whatever, makes you feel like a different person? I felt this way after. I envisioned new outfits, new styles that I was too scared to try out before, outfits that would be fit for neck baring.
All this weight, all this... hiding, false comfort, that I held on to behind my hair, it's gone.
It was rather sad, and as I looked at the hair on the floor, I wanted to glue it back to my head for a moment but I looked in the mirror and understood that there was nothing I could do about it, and change is good.
I had dyed my hair jet black in November of 2012, my first time dying my hair. Obviously, coloring it at all ruins the texture of it. But since cutting it, I've let go of those destroyed roots.
And in time, it'll grow back... in time.
Obviously, my posts revolve around a lot more than what is literally presented. Hair, is just hair. Fear, confidence, deception, beauty, hope, trust, those are real.
Going along with that, I wasn't sad at first that Xanga is coming to an end, but as I write this and as life propels forward with its turmoils and rainbows, and as I look back to the memories I've had with so many of you that I never thought I'd meet in this fashion, it makes my heart tear a little.
For some reason, I have never felt more open writing anywhere else... this was my sanctuary when I was still using old screennames back in middle school/elementary school. But now, now I won't be able to write without feeling too exposed.
It's funny that these events occur simultaneously. I've been forced out of comfort, emotionally, in many ways. But it's good, I have to set my sights somewhere... and let loose, dried ends go...and breathe.
But like hair, I hope they grow back even more nurtured. Unlike hair, however, it is up to God... unless some idiot comes at me with scissors and just HAS to cut my hair.
(PS: There's still amonth left so I might still write here once or twice, but I'll be moving here
victoriamisu.blogspot.com
I'm going to try to turn that into this blog, going to try to make it personal. )
So I haven't really been active on here, ever since my parents found my xanga and had a short glance right before I could set it on lock. There are thoughts on here I'd rather tem not read about.
But I've been more active here:
victoriamisu.blogspot.com
where I chronicle fashion, other thoughts and my fashion/modeling life!
BUT Update: i was recently shooting a national commercial for DC, so you can see updates there!
The brilliant French had understood the concept of the nagging could-have-beens, giving it the name of esprit de l'esaclier.
It's appropriate to use this term when the perfect comeback suddenly decides to materialize and dance on your tongue, leavnig you angry as you understand how you could ahve won the argument if only you had thought of this earlier.
But what term to we use to describe the feeling of missed love? Of turning our backs because we believe in the inevitability of a relationship's occurrence or viability, so we settle for what is convenient and what is presented?
There are things that will be forever left unsaid, that we wish we would have spoken sooner when we had the chance, or pried to get an answer to beforehand. Arguments are easy to forget about, but the feeling of having missed out on an entire human being's love is another pain that engulfs us.
What spirit, then , is that?
What spirit can describe the haunting, breathstealing event of acknowledging that if only we had taken that one step, those few minutes, that one day, that one move, it could have all changed? If only those few words would have brought that one person closer?
Unlike arguments, where we are dominated by our dignity and a drive to win, we're left dominated by fear.
How often we let ourselves collapse and watch our shinging unicorn wander off as we let our fate be determined by fear.
Do we actually believe that the relationship would never happen? Do we actually believe that it is too hard to pursue? No. We use these to smother the truth, because we fear understanding we are in fear.
Then, we can only surrender to time and hope, and pray that God guides it back.
Sometimes I wonder if both parties had paused, from the same grappling stagnation brought on by fear.
What if i'ts because something seems so perfect, that we run from it?
People will side and sympathize with the party that most represents them and what they wish to happen to themselves when the situation is so polarized.
EDIT: before you read, let me just say, i ENVY girls who go out the door completely comfortably with no makeup on. Every time I want to do that, I find myself freaking out and grabbing my mascara wand and brushing just one layer over my eyes, even though it probably doens't make a gigantic difference...but psychologically, in my head, it makes a world's difference. Also, I am not trying to criticize the modeling industry, just trying to let some women and men understand certain things! Aside from the obvious corrupt bits and pieces of the industry, just like any other industry, I do think it produces great art, revenue, and a creative outlet among many of the other things that are not related to the main topic of this.
Most of the pictures of my face closeup on my xanga and everywhere else excluding my modeling polaroids have not been makeup free- it's either runway/photoshoot makeup or my go to mascara, maybe some red lip if i go out with friends.
I'm huge on the natural beauty thing, but it's hard to take your own advice/word sometimes. I can tell other women/men they look fine the way they are, especially my best girlfriends, but it took me 22 years to be completely comfortable with my naked face.
I took a shower and let my hair dry, and just took three shots in different lighting without editing/makeup
Here's the thing, my modeling pictures are cool and glamorous and they will sell products. A lot of people say things to me like "you're gorgeous!" etc etc which I really appreciate, but sometimes it makes me feel guilty because my face is covered to look like an image which is deemed attractive, although it shows that they like my work (not just mine! photographer, makeup artist, stylist, hair stylist, retoucher, etc etc)
So to all the men who look at me when I have my mascara on , or certain clothes etc etc, for all the girls who look at my pictures and go wow!
here is my face without makeup and unadorned, plain.
So here's the naked truth (harhar) Without the makeup, the clothes, the hair done, I'm not so glamorous nor am I the image that is photographed (though that's good because that means I'm doing my job ). I do not look like this:
(first picture for shore life magazine, second picture for seth aaron henderson project 7 winner runway)
I'm not criticizing the talent in the industry from the the MUAs, hairstylists, photographers, models, stylists, publishing companies, etc etc, since they do phenomenal work.
I do want to emphasize that I do not look like this all the time. or rather I should say, I do not look like this (two pictures above) naturally. My lips aren't naturally that red, my eyes are not naturally that pronounced, my cheeks are not naturally that highlighted/shiny. That is all in the talented work of MUAs and photographers.
I am trying to break the image that is portrayed already through magazines, half naked and madeup women heralded for what is considered beauty.
The pictures that you see on victorias secret, guess, whatever other advertisements, are NOT the only definitions of beauty nor should they completely determine your definition of beauty. You do not have to look like the picture tat is shown to you to be beautiful.
I hope that no one takes this as my saying anything bad about makeup artists or people who use makeup. MUA's use their talent in order to create an image, to portray a look and they do it wonderfully- not everyone is able to acquire that type of art well. But I think it's important to differentiate between that( creating a look) and using makeup to cover up your insecurity or attempt to turn your face into what you see in magazines.
What's nice about the industry now, though, is that although you see models being drawn on and photoshopped and glammed up in magazines tv and runway, and whatever other media, there is a celebration of their completely natural beauty. there are blogs that will take only picture sof them without an ounce of makeup and forums that praise these men and women for having natural, untouched beauty.
I think i'ts completely fine to look at the cover of vogue or whatever else you dote upon and think to yourself, WOW they looks amazing! Fei Fei sun/coco rocha/etc looks great! she's beautiful! and so on. but don't diminish yourself because you are unique as well in comparison, you're probably just not what the industry wants at the time being.
Embrace what you have, and don't be fooled by the pervasive media, both men and women. Learn to shine from withinand learn to love and appreciate that which is within others over what they show simply on the shell of their body, even models. Don't covet things that will fade as time eats away at the skin, instead work on your brain. Yes we all want to look pretty, including myself, it's natural. But don't forget about the things that will actually help the world, such as your brain and your heart.
As a model, I hope to one day have enough of a voice that will be paid attention to in order to progress the human condition/life.
music time:
one of my favorites
"The opposite of love's indifference" So very true, but I think what makes me run away is anger and hatred.
"Pay attention now, I'm standing on your porch screaming out And I wont leave until you come downstairs"
it's always good to know that a proclamation of love isn't just through words but through a fight. not altercation, but a fight to grasp love and make it stay.
or maybe i'm just too young as people usually tell me when we discuss this topic...
but no matter what you believe, love yourself first before you go and attach your heart to somoene else. because that person will eventually become your identity if you aren't careful. Don't let fear drag you away, but in all circumstances, be careful. But love, and be fearless this valentines day (and all other days. but it's just a good excuse, vday )
Sometimes I'll peer into the box and melt, looking at memories, smiles printed on glossies, scents captured within dried flowers. how attached we were through celluloid...
Ah...And I sigh, because it breaks my heart in so many domains. I wish I could stuff all those back in and take myself back to a time when I had not yet learned resentment or seen that hidden side of you.
I have this urge to empty the box out and scrape out my heart til the walls are thinned and carefully mold each picture in, each flower, each card, within the empty cave.
I can't decide if it's a box of treasures or Pandora's little joke for me. Either these memorandums represent a truth or they taunt me, deceive me into a binding, because for some reason these objects enforce the forged, unbreakable connection.
But what's done is done, the box may keep growing, with either fondness of demons masked with love. Hopefully each look will drown out the waning and waxing feeling of distance til the tides of bittersweet, loving sighs swallow up the dark lit moon.
Not sure what mood I'd describe this one to be. longing? le sigh?
I think that part of me that writes these proses is slowly peering out into the open
Well anyways I'm feeling grateful.... but...
summer please come soon
recent work for product site, check out mila and fire!
I always imagined that I would spend most of my afternoons after work alone at a swanky bar or big windowed kinda rustic cafe, alone with my thoughts for a little bit before returning to my own flat, with windows even bigger than the cafe, to put together a portfolio, write, or work on a code. I'd have thoughts churning throuhgout the day and feel life moving forward with great momentum, thinking of how to impact an entire earth's population of human beings.
I see the man with the pipe, the woman with her dog, the couple in love's young temptation, and the old couple intertwined enough to enjoy the purity of love in silence and harmony over cups of coffee, blessed enough to have found such a partner. I see the waiters busy trying to make a living off of rich clientele with tips to leave, tired out eyes, attempting to smile for the customers. When the man with the pipe looks at his watch and slowly makes his way out of the cafe, I know it's time for me to retire as well and chase the sunset, glancing at my pocket watch just to make sure it's precisely the right time. I guess by then I'd be pretty good at reading the sun.
If I eventually gray, I'd rock the crap out of my silver hair and enjoy myself even more at these cafes.
During the winters I'd stare out in to the weather, contemplating. Some type of LA air I imagined for an outdoor cafe during the summers, sunshades on, flowy white skirt, silk top, and kitten heels of sorts.
But why cafes? Why not on top of a mountain, a hike, somewhere infused with nature?
As a good friend put it, it's because I want to feel people while still being separated from their being, an infusion of human nature in my own separate bubble. I admit I'm rather recluse, for many reasons, and being in a public setting where I'm allowed to be by myself, to read, to sip a cup of coffee, to watch people, but also have the chance to talk to someone of my choice, is so inviting.
I also at times imagined the feeling of love, returning home to a lover, but for the time being it'll be my own place at least for the next few months.
There'd be bottles of champagne in the cabinet from our travels around the world, candles, and fruits laid out on the table under an windowed ceiling where stars would remind me of how small I am yet how great it is to have the opportunity to see the stars.
song I can't stop listening to, Elli Ingram's cover.
eleowen no such thing as time
^^^ I WANT TO DO A DUET OF THIS SO BADLY AAKFS WAHAH!!!
thousand years christina perri one of my favorites
'I have died everyday waiting for you" seems to convey an incredibly sad emotion compared to the res tof the song, but it's still such a true feeling. How the heart can seem to disable our entire being...
Happy lunar new year to all those celebrating Eat up your nian gao!
Weekend nights in are and have been my favorites. Just need time to be around familiar people, now drinks, nor loud music, no guards put up or conscious efforts to avoid certain things to say out of fear it may be a faux pas.
Just a few conversations here and there, reconnecting with friends, being productive and
Too bad my curls didn't hold 
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