When Magic Happens
Sayulita's charm. The grace of strangers. Strangers who become like family. Many a tequila. Brightly colored pom poms and brightly colored sunsets. The taste of salt water. Gold specks in the waves. Stepping into a vulnerability that first feels awkward, like the first time putting on a swimsuit after winter. Looking into a broken mirror around the side of an outdoor bar and thinking, "Oh, there you are." There you are with your messy seawater hair and a sunburnt nose and a sprinkling of freckles across your forehead. There you are looking like a six year-old playing the afternoon away and building sandcastles on the beach.
Sayulita is my magic making place where inspiration oozes and dances through my veins.
This shift in perspective feels like buying a pair of rose colored sunglasses and I never ever wanna take them off.
A shift in perspective. Location. Heart. I'm peeling off layers as fast as I'm peeling back clothes. My skin is pink to the touch at first then begins to turn brown and there's no piece of me I don't want in the sunshine.
I'm gonna live in the light.