"A tenderly composed and intimate mixed-media collage that weaves personal memory, typography, and delicate textures into a poetic reflection on self-discovery."
-------- Review from Future Art & Design Award
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Project description
A Journal for the Person I Will Become
One day, I began to wonder what kind of person I would become.
So I opened an old notebook and started collecting little things about myself—not important things, perhaps, but the things I was afraid I might forget.
I kept the number 7 because it has always felt lucky to me. I kept the word "SHE" because, among all the words in the world, sometimes the simplest ones are enough to tell us who we are.
Between the pages, I found words from stories I had once read: "excited, emotion, crazy, traveler". They felt strangely familiar. Maybe I am someone who becomes happy too easily, someone whose heart is always louder than her head. Maybe I am a little crazy, a little emotional, and always ready to leave for somewhere I have never been. I want to see the world, to get lost in unfamiliar places, and to keep asking questions about everything around me.
Then I found a few quieter words: "knowledge, sleep, breathing, all life".
They reminded me that life is not always about going somewhere. Sometimes it is about knowing something new, sleeping peacefully after a long day, taking a breath, and realizing that I am still here.
At the very end of the notebook, I left a few words in my own handwriting.
They were not taken from a novel, because they belonged only to me.
I wrote about the person I hope to become. About growing into the kind of adult I want to be. About living a life that feels like my own.
Perhaps years from now, I will open this notebook again and find that I have changed. Some of these words may no longer describe me. Some may make me smile. Some may remind me of a girl I almost forgot.
But I hope I will still remember this:
I was once a girl who was curious about the world, who felt everything deeply, who dreamed of going somewhere far away, and who wanted to become herself without knowing exactly what that meant.
Maybe growing up is not about finding the final version of ourselves.
Maybe it is simply about leaving little pieces of ourselves behind, and carrying them with us as we become someone new.
And perhaps, if I am lucky, every moment along the way will feel like it lasts forever.