past, present, and future lives - by kel

It’s 10:41pm on New Years Eve. I’m sitting at my desk, in a race against time as I cut and paste bits and pieces of my aspirational life for my 2024 vision board. Although I know nothing tangibly will change whether I finish at 11:59 or 12:01, I still feel this pressure to be done before the clock strikes 12. So here I am, scrapping together these images in a desperate attempt to match what I don’t have currently (or what I have at a very minimal level) to what I wish to actively be involved with in the future. To manifest more moments like these. The first few weeks of the new year always buzzes with excitement in the air. We talk about our goals, what we hope to achieve in the year, what we want to make of ourselves. What we might want to prove to the world. In a way, a lot of it is wrapped up in the sort of identities we want to embody. For me, this is conceptualized through the vision board I make every year. And every year, I stare blankly at the canvas before me, wondering what i

It’s 10:41pm on New Years Eve. I’m sitting at my desk, in a race against time as I cut and paste bits and pieces of my aspirational life for my 2024 vision board. Although I know nothing tangibly will change whether I finish at 11:59 or 12:01, I still feel this pressure to be done before the clock strikes 12. So here I am, scrapping together these images in a desperate attempt to match what I don’t have currently (or what I have at a very minimal level) to what I wish to actively be involved with in the future. To manifest more moments like these. The first few weeks of the new year always buz