My home, my inspiration


I’ve been making a corset with the blue Chinese brocade and I hit my usual moment of wanting to abandon it all. I suppose it’s a moment of self-doubt despite the fact that nothing is going wrong. If anything, I have a fear of success. I worry about what will happen if everything goes to plan. It’s amusing how ridiculous that thought is. In fear that I would move on from my current project, I went to buy material for the next corset. This maybe an antithetical idea, considering what I have just expressed, but it is my secret weapon. I will not want to waste what I have started and, seeing the new purchases, it will make me focus on my current project. I will want to get it over with as soon as possible so I can enjoy the next corset.  I always have the urge to start something new before I have finished what I have started.

I decided to go back to my first love: red. I am definitely more purple now but, once, I was red through and through. Red makes me feel alive. I bought the coutil, red duchess satin, black satin binding and a frog fastener. As I walked down the street thinking about the lace trims I had wanted to buy, a beautiful intrusive thought entered my brain: I love my home.

Home used to be a place where people were too busy to breathe; so busy that they didn’t stop to look at the people around them. The city was not their home or their life. It was thrust upon them. Their home was their dwellings. I lived in this environment and found myself falling into the same horrible trap of being forced to think only of my world. If you didn’t, you’d find yourself being the last person on the train although you were kissing the doors. You’d be the last person standing although you were the first on. What a sickening time. No peace and no freedom.

Sadly, not everyone has the luxury of enjoying a city which allows you to be free. You can be anything you want here and that’s what comforts me. There is nothing to confirm to. Nothing is out of reach. I can be whoever I want here and, more often than not, the person I want to be is Alejandra. How she’d thrive here… I pity those who are clueless about the support here. It’s in the atmosphere. As soon as you arrive, you realise you can do anything and lead any life you wish. No discrimination, no prejudice and no mockery. What an opportunity. How stupid would it be to waste it with something as minor as self-doubt? How can I squander this chance? I’ve been given the fortune of discovering this while I still have decades ahead of me; decades to make it count. That leaves me with two options:  stay and use it or lose it and get the hell out. I intend to stay.  

1 Comments on “My home, my inspiration”

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