Call me strange (which isn't anything new, really) but I've always had a strong liking for flowers. This may have stemmed from (no pun intended) a lack of flowers when I grew up; as the pollution so graciously choked out the life from practically anything. The seemingly endless colours and textures that spawn from flora and fauna -- there's always something so visually enticing and powerful about them; the way each flower seems to have a story. 

*inserts dramatic sentence break for effect*

Like us. 

But in all seriousness,  I've always perceived an individual's growth, the physical and the internal, as a flower. Life is about growing and flourishing through the thorns. It's about discovering the hue of red, blue or purple that is perfect for you. It's about blossoming petals as much as wilting petals. Yet, in it's core, it's also about learning to stand tall through the rain, the snow, and the sun. 

Wishing you all the happiest of years, and I have a feeling 2017 will be a good one.

ps. low-key feeling like a flight attendant in this bandana, but all is well because I DIG IT. 

For as long as I can remember, I had a hard time dealing with my identity. So much so that, my entire childhood was devoted into being someone that would be most suitable to others, rather than myself. And even then, I hadn't noticed that once subconscious fact until a few years ago; the mask that I had wrongfully declared "me" was plastered on so tightly that it felt like skin to me. But it wasn't. And lo and behold, look! An identity crisis. Just in time for Christmas! That's great. Thus, the insinuation of a a few rather nerve-racking years in which I questioned and second-guessed every action and every decision that I made; is this me or is this simply to please others?