Tag: photography

Never Say Never… Unless

Never forget what others have done for you in the past. Even if you’ve moved on, or they’ve moved on from you, never forget their smile.

Never forget the sweetness in their voice when you saw them with their guards all the way down. Never forget that surprised look in their eyes when they realized something they said hurt you. Never forget that they had never meant to hurt you. Never forget they too are human and flawed and recklessly beautiful.

Never forget that somewhere along the line of your relationship they wanted you to rise, to succeed, to just be happy. Even if only for a moment, a moment can last an eternity. Never forget; if they could feel hate, surely they can feel love.

Never forget when they stood by your side. Whether it was a walk through the park, or a walk to visit you in prison. Never forget that their footsteps can echo just like yours.

Never forget that they were young, reckless, and inexperienced. Never forget that they aren’t getting any younger and one day they will return from where they came. Never forget the last sentiments you exchanged.

Never forget that no matter how much you think they despise you, the right words could make them admire you.

And while you’re at it… you should probably forget that idiotic word: Never.

Xoxox

Lindsay Reva

0

Art of a Life

Oh how much I love…
Walking down the street as if no one can see me,
Driving in my car, pretending
That nothing in the world matters
Looking out the window
Wondering when everything will be mine
But in the meantime, I sit back and enjoy the ride
Cause I love this life
Savage
Brilliant
Beautifully
Stained
Art of a Life
To some it’s all a joke, but I have felt too much pain
To let it go to waste
So I sit back and enjoy the ride
Work my hardest
Love till my heart bleeds
Open my arms until my back is cut and bruised from the bastards
But I’ll eventually relax and enjoy the ride
After the work is all done, after I’ve gone past the farthest yard
Work
Play
Repeat
Try not to break
And in-between it all I will sit back and try to relax
Oh how much I love…
The days when I wake up feeling beautiful
When I go to sleep feeling peaceful
And in-between it all, try not to remember
Try not to trip and fall
One step at a time, one pair of lips
Plum bruised chapstick
God, how much I love
My life
Family
Food
Touch
Breath
Freedom, to be anywhere, everywhere, and nowhere
I wonder if they know…
How much I love them
You
Him
Her
Them
I love them all
Every single one of you
But in the meantime, I’ll just sit back and enjoy the ride
One single heartbeat at a time
Oh if only you could feel how much I love.
xoxox
Lindsay Reva
44526610_277723712873223_8255037665305427968_n
0

Angel Down

Ever feel like turning your back on the rest of the world?

Don’t, love.

You might have a hard day when you’re pushed to your limits and people come stomping (ungraceful as hell) into your path who make it so much harder than it should be but don’t forget all the people who need you. I need you. Just think of the pleasures awaiting you.

That someone who ruins your day can just as easily walk away, especially if you threaten their hate with kindness, love, and goodness. What would God do…They want your displeasure and when you don’t give it to them, they’ll go looking for it somewhere else. Sometimes they find it. Let them be and keep your head held high.

Someone unbelievable will walk into your life. That person is going to make you feel like your shoes are slicker than Cinderella’s, laugh like that first puff, even make you contemplate gravity because you are flying. Too much fairytale, not enough truth? Maybe that person was you all along.

Keep it pushing lovely. You’ve got too much goodness to answer for.

Xoxox

Lindsay Reva

Photo by @the_olivedistrict

0

Why Did You Start The Heiva San Diego?

So many times people have asked me why? Why do this? Why didn’t you do that? Why!? Why!? Why!? Most of the time I give them the It’s none of your damn business look. But there is one question that without fail hits me like a Deer in the illuminated tunnel of oncoming headlights.

Why did you start the Heiva San Diego? 

When those words leave their lips, memories pour into my brain as if it were yesterday that I stepped barefoot onto the To’ata stage, feet raw from dancing for weeks on concrete, my stomach screaming from nerves, and a thousand electric currents pulsing throughout my hearts’ core. Oh yes, that is a question that makes me not only remember, but makes me feel.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with the Heiva San Diego, it’s a Tahitian Cultural festival and Dance Competition that takes place every year in August located in Sunny San Diego. This year the dates are August 11 & 12 and it’ll be the 8th year that my family and friends have put together this gathering and event. Every year I hope to bring Tahiti to San Diego. I fail in some aspects, in others I succeed. No matter the outcome, I keep trying.

So why Lindsay? Why did you start the Heiva San Diego?

As a child, I grew up around my mother, aunties, and grandma talking about the Heiva I Tahiti (Check it out!). It was something to gossip about on a tiny island where everyone knew everyone. Almost every single woman in my family had danced in the Heiva. I could imagine them as young women full of life up on stage. Then there was my older cousin Vairani. She was the most beautiful person I had ever seen and when she performed on stage with her hair long and crimped hair,  makeup and red lips, she was transformed further into something untouchable to my young awkward self. Her skin turned to gold. Her hair was spun silk. And even that stank attitude she always gave me because I was her little cousin dissipated. She was no longer the prettiest one in our family to my mind, she elevated into Vairani, Island Goddess.  OMGAWWWDDD I was such a twerp! You better believe that after I saw her up on that stage I would have done anything for her (This probably made her despise me even more!) I followed her around like a pesky mosquito while she tried to smack me out of the way (and she was real smooth not to do it in front of the adults!). But I didn’t care. She was Goddess. Goddess’ can do whatever the hell they want! That was when I was a young chump. Eventually, I grew up to be an older chump.

As I matured my memories of my cousin never faded. I remembered the way she smiled on stage and how infectious her joy was as she swayed and moved in ways I couldn’t. I would never forget how beautiful she was. There’s just no way in hell I could erase the impression of the costumes, colors, and sounds as the drum echoed across the courtyard into the waters that made the island a paradise to most and a prison to others. Every time I saw bright red lips, my inner bitch would shake her head and comment. Sure can’t rock it like Vairani. No one can rock it like my cousin did when I was young, impressionable, and wanted to be just like her older cousin with the perfect everything…Nobody!!!

Then I hit rock bottom. Not really rock bottom…Let me restate that; Teenage Rockbottom. It involved teenage heartbreak to a guy who I was better off without. I stopped eating and I didn’t want to see anyone. 20 lbs lighter and disappeared from my usual group of friends, my soul searched for something else to cling onto and somehow I stumbled upon Healii’s Polynesian Revue (HPR ). They were doing a performance in a parking lot. BAM! Just like a magical abracadabra, my lost teenage soul who felt soooooooo damn ugly after being dumped by her good for nothing boyfriend, saw the red lips, the bright costumes, and heard the drum beats that made her blood hot as if she were standing in the middle of a summer storm. I went through highschool uncommitted to everything and anything(except douchebag boys) but at that moment I tugged on my father’s sleeve and looked him in the eyes with an expression that meant Business. “I am going to dance with them.” He probably liked the ways my eyes lit up with fire..but he might have hated that he was going to pay for my dance lessons. Thanks, daddy! So I dance, and the more I dance, the more I fell out of love with scum bags, and back into love with myself. I felt beautiful on stage. The dances made me part of something that I had never experienced before. I learned about other islands as well as my own and more importantly, I formed bonds with others that made me stronger. My hula sisters.

Slowly and surely I wanted more. MORE! MORE! MORE! More dance…. but especially more of Tahiti. Healii’s was mostly Hawaii. They were wonderful, but my soul searched for something that my younger self had seen; Ori Tahiti. When I turned 18 I found an opportunity impossible for me to pass up; Competing in the Heiva I Tahiti. The competitions of all competitions, which my mother had even participated in when she was my age. I WAS ALL IN, BABY!

For months I trained with a small group of girls in America and it went a little something like this: Watch video’s of a Tahitian dancer and memorize the dances. That sounds so easy. NOT! I lost about 15lbs in the first couple of months. We trained every day like dogs doing moves that normal human beings just don’t do. During training..our hips could NOT lie. Instead, they SANG TRUTH, louder and louder as the days passed.. well you get the point. When it was time to finally go to Tahiti and meet the group that we were joining things only got harder. Dance, dance, and more dance..Oh and BTW when your finished dancing, you better dance in your sleep (which is exactly what my dreams made me do!) It was so damn HARD, but every single second was pure BLISS. Even the blisters on my soles felt worthy. Finally, I had found something in life that I was willing to work hard at. Yet, when it was time to actually perform the dances, I would have never expected what happened…

My hair was amazingly big and puffy. My lips were fire-truck red. The costume I wore fit perfectly. I was ready. We were ready. Vairani, you better watch your back..I’m bringing it! And together the beats took their toll and we stepped on stage as one. At that moment I could feel the heartbeats of everyone standing beside me. Their breathes were rhythically aligned with mine. The crowd looked at us and I did not shrink back. Together we were brilliant with our flaws and all.

That night we didn’t win first place. I can’t even remember if we got second or third.. but that wasn’t the point. There were over 100 dancers who had learned the same routines as me and I could feel every single one of them besides me that night. We were one and the same MANA. Their power was mine, and mine was theirs. Happiness swept through my soul like a dove through the blue sky and I knew that after this night never again would I be the same. I had danced as my mother had danced. I had become what Vairani had once been. I had reached something that seemed untouchable. I competed in Heiva I Tahiti.

So Lindsay, why did you do it? Who do you think you are bringing the Heiva to San Diego? 

I created the Heiva San Diego for one reason. That feeling that swept through my body as I stepped on stage with my new brothers and sisters. I wanted to share that feeling of camaraderie, passion, dedication, and mana with the world. Not everyone can go to Tahiti. Some people don’t even know the difference between Tahiti and Haiti!!! But if I can bring part of Tahiti to America, maybe I can show them my hearts addictions. And if it’s only one person who can believe in what I believe, it’ll still be worth it. Tahiti will always be worth it.

In the beginning, only my mother believed that it was possible. Nowadays, there are some people who talk behind our back and shake their heads. I care not! One day soon, San Diego will see why Tahiti and the islands are utopias, paradise, Eden, and better than  Sweden.

Why did you start the Heiva San Diego? 

Because this is what I was born to do.

xoxox

Lindsay Reva

📸 : Ivan S Harris Photography

0

Black Mamba Kissed: Fiction

I sat in a room with four beds covered with flowered and flamboyant sheets, hues you might find on an old Hawaiian woman’s dress and across from me a door is opened no more than a foot wide. I’ve been peering out that crack about 90 times in the past 48 hours. I can’t help it. If you saw what I saw you’d be addicted too. Its the ocean of Fakarava, a tiny island in the middle of no where. At least that’s how it feels. The waves lap against the house I sit in, teasing like a whisper in my ear. I fall asleep to the song of water. Is it laughter I hear or the pain which makes it hard for me to sleep? When I wake up my eyes automatically go towards that door, open even during the nights so a breeze can come through. It smells like sea and mangos. But it rained last night so what I see beyond the opening seems duller than usual, less of a distraction. How unfortunate. It starts off muddy grey then quickly fades to brilliant turquoise and if my eyes can detach themselves from the brilliance it furthers to a darkness that comes with depth and imaginations of what waits below. How far does that darkness reach? On a clear day without rain I can make out a tiny motu littered with coconut trees that looks bigger than a football field but probably isn’t. On lazy days I stare at the motu and wonder how long it would take me to swim to that little island from where I sit on my comfortable dry bed protected and separate from the doubt of how friendly sharks in the South Pacific really are. But it’s not a sunny day on this bite size island, which took only a few hours by plane from Tahiti. It’s raining. Not that it’s going to stop me from swimming… Neither did it stop you from loving him.

Slowly I look away from the window in disgust trying to block out the vileness of past remembrances. My body clenches at the onslaught of memories. Please STOP!!! They don’t. Instead something happens inside of me as my stomache aches with a hunger that has nothing to do with food. “This is paradise, lose yourself.” The words of my family play back, annoying and optimistic. Lose myself? Don’t they realize how lost I’ve been?! No. I need to find myself. I try to calm down by listening to the waves crash against the foundation of my fare like a small roar mingling with the clutter going around and around in my head. His words. With each crash they grow louder. Do they really think I could forget everything? Anything..What a dream that would be. If I could forget how beautiful his smile was or how AFFECTED I was by a simple brush of his fingertip. Months and months I tried to forget him but here I am on a tiny speck of paradise and still he makes it feel like Lucifer’s pit. The rain falls harder and my eyes sweep like a urgent signal to the place that I have replayed in my mind over and over, searching the waters but only seeing his perfect face before he left me forever…

The first time I saw him it rained. I was such a fool in my pencil skirt and Steve Madden pumps, trying to impressed a potential nobody client. How was I suppose to know it would rain in the middle of August? I had walked soaked like a wet cat into Downtown Hilton headed straight for the conference rooms but in the lobby with 10, 20, maybe even 50 people who were nothing but static and white noise, he stood tall and elegant like the men I had seen in magazines. His eyes met mine. Sometimes I wish it hadn’t been so… Just think of how different my life would have been if I hadn’t been given that glance of hope! Only when I ran into a table did I break our stare. The marble didn’t fazed me, the humiliation did. I walked on to the conference room with my face the absolute definition of Rouge. Before I stepped into the doorway that would separate us forever I took one look back and never in all my life had I felt so much JOY to know that he was following me. Nothing in the world could calm the wings that were soaring in my heart. I didn’t dare look back again but instead I neatly sat down at a table next to a window where my client should have been sitting. But he wasn’t. How typical and late. I stared out the window and watched large drops plummet the glass and gracefully fall into rivers, down. Someone called my name softly, almost like a lover would whispers the name of the one true beloved. He had been expecting me you see and I often wonder if things could have been different if we had started off on the same even scale with no expectations or commitments hidden in our agendas. But he had come with a plan, as had I. Yet no one warned me how finely shaped his jaw was, how sweet the line of his smile curved, and how soft his kiss would feel when he pressed his lips to my cheek. Neither did they tell me that when he left me it would feel like recognizing the colors and patterns of the Black Mamba, after it bites you.

It was only later when I got to know his ways that I figured he had studied me from a far. Nowadays all you have to do is google a persons name and their life unfolds before your eyes. The enemy and his wicked tactics. Mr. Sun Tzu would have been ashamed of me. He would have told me I should have done the same if not more. But to give myself a little credit, I was naive. My grandfather had taught me that everything you gain from a person happens when you work right besides them. Maybe in another time period Gramps. So I let my guard down and smiled back at the beautiful face who I had seen in the lobby and who also happened to be my potential client.

His name was Leon and I gave him everything, including my heart. When he had it all, my secrets, my money he didn’t need me anymore. So he left me without a goodbye or a note, his phone cut-off with a operators voice that infuriated me more than any injustice I had ever felt. The fool that I was… Damn you. Never will I wear pencil skirts in the rain, nor will I smile back at a man who says my name like red poison on white roses.

I stared out past the door and beyond the sea. The sun was now setting in glorious pinks and purples and it had stopped raining. I smiled and didn’t even bother to wipe the tears away.

xoxox

Lindsay Reva

0

The Impossible

For days, even after the jet lag wore away, I sat in front of my computer and stared at a blank slate for the story that I had been meaning to write about.. Writer’s Block had no mercy.. But was this writer’s block?

No. It was something else.

How could I write about something so meaningful to me, something that had its claws wrapped around the contours of my heart? How could I capture those perfect words that should be free sailing through the skies of my memory… Yet I tried and I tried and BY GOD I tried again. Finally I am forced to throw down these imperfections that won’t even come close to what my minds eye continues to stare at boldly, unwavering, and ADDICTED.

Visiting the land of my ancestors in French Polynesia; My Beloved Tahiti. 

Be advised. Compared to the reality of each moment written down, I felt ten fold. Maybe a hundred fold. Even the unwanted parts make me throw my head back in laughter. And it goes a little something like this:

I stepped off of the plane and immediately a wave of warm morning air hit me. 5:45AM ISLAND TIME. I inhaled a scent that would never exist in America. Or if it did, someone tell me where so that I could go after it. It was like the freshness of sea mingled with sweet Tiare, a white 7 petal blossom that only grows in the islands. There was also a hint of city population, diesel, the makings of mankind, and even that was overpowered by natural vegetation that I could make out on the mountains which surrounded me. Again, I took a deep breath and held on as long as my lungs could go pretending it would stay with me forever; my first breaths of Tahiti. Yet it wasn’t my first. I had been to Tahiti probably 15 times. I remember my mother pulled out my very first passport and being amazed that at 6 months old I had traveled to the place that some people spend their entire savings to go visit. It also amazed me that my 6 month old picture was just as bad as my 29 year old picture. But this time was different..

It had been five years since I had returned to the islands because of time wasted in Japan. I remember when I was in the land of the Rising Sun dreaming day and night of the land of real Magnificent Sun in Polynesia. yet it had been so long that it felt like a fairy tale. Years passed and things were being forgotten, faces started to blur,  and the longing only grew. It rested inside of me like an animal and every once in a while when I heard a Taiko drum or saw a woman with beautiful long black hair the dreams of Vahines and the pounding of Pahus and Toeres would strike me from the inside, resonating like echoes from the past. Eventually I started to believe that I would never make it back to the Islands that had once felt like my home. I thought that I would never see her again… When I accepted that, sadness crept into my life that felt close to mourning.

Stepping off that plane changed everything. I had made it and never in all my life had I felt more alive, more FREE. When we made our way through customs some of my favorite people in the world were there waiting for us despite the early hours and heat. They put flower leis around my neck that made me smell far lovelier than my Mademoiselle Chanel ever could.

I was in TAHITI!! I HAD MADE IT BACK. No one could tell how happy I was to be back, no one knew how every single moment was being measure and dissected in my mind because I never EVER wanted to leave these memories behind. No, my darlings, I love you too much. We went to my auntie house which was just up the hill and most of my family and friends made their way home to give us some rest from the red eye flight. If only they knew that I had planned to sleep a bare minimum on this trip and instead LIVE WIDE AWAKE! Sleep would not bother me. So I went on a walk. Outside my aunties gates past the houses of my cousins, uncles, and distant relatives to a road that had a view of the Faa’a Airport where we had just come from, and beyond was the ocean where Tahiti’s sister island Moorea stood like a gem peering out of the sea. As a child I would always disappear from my family and come here to this spot. I would be gone for hours sitting on the side of the road and stare at the planes take off or watch the ferries push forward to Moorea’s port. I’d stay so long that day would turn to dark; My favorite time of all. The sun would set with a golden orange arc and a blanket of stars would glisten from above. The constellations seemed to be right there with you, all you had to do was reach out and pluck one from the sky. My diamonds. The airport lights would come on in a bright turquoise blue and even in the darkness I was reminded of the crystal clear lagoons that awaited me in the outer islands of Rangiroa, Fakarava, or Apataki. I never wanted to leave. But I was young and the wild dogs scared me as did my mother when she worried about me, so I always made my way back. Here I was 29 years old sitting at the same spot that I had come back to all throughout my life. Had I changed? Where had I been? And where was I going? Who cares, now was not the time for those questions. The answers would come only when they were ready. The sun was baking me and the humidity licked away at my skin, my paleness that hadn’t felt so much sunlight in the past 5 years combined. I was no longer a child who could disappear for hours and hours. There was no empty road for me to travel down. Slowly, feeling like every single step led to the direction of goodness, I made my way back to my Auntie and Uncle’s Fare that stood high at the City in the Sky.

Everything that followed was like a brilliant rush through silk rainbows. They spoiled me. Breakfast, lunches, dinners, and never-ending snacks. People wanted to meet, some for business and some for personal reason but every reacquaintance was paired with food. Food that had my eyes widen with lust and my stomach shrink back with apprehension, and it was all in different shades of variety. Chocolate moose served in a wine glass, Raw fish bathed in coconut milk, freshly squeezed lime over poisson crue, Fried banana, Avocados the size of melons, Tuna the color of a Geisha’s lips, Coconuts cracked open and sipped through fluorescence colored straws, Mahi Mahi hamburgers, Luscious grilled steak topped with a bed of fries, and lets not forget the baguettes and chocolate croissants. I ate like I hadn’t had food for a thousand years. But the odd thing about it…I wasn’t getting bigger. If anything I was changing shape but not becoming bigger. I felt better because the food I was inhaling left and right was REAL. Chemicals and additives neglected and un-heard of. So I ate and I ate, and when I couldn’t eat anymore, I simple ate some more.

Seeing these golden skinned locals was wonderful for my soul because a Tahitian spirit and mentality are not quite like what I deal with in America and no where near to what I had been accustomed to in Japan. Some Tahitians are overly generous, fire hearted, and at their core they have a goodness that I can only call innocence. Of course not everyone can be classified as such. What land doesn’t have its fair share of good and bad apples? For the record, I aim on surrounded myself with good people and on this trip I succeeded in that. Thank you for the guidance God.

Some memories still burn inside my mind, a flame that will never go out. I went to a secluded beach with my best friend Bene and while we were in the water it started raining so hard. Each time a drop hit me it was like a tiny bomb of happiness penetrated through my skin. The water was warm, the rain was warmer and here I was away from my electronics and city life. Away from my French school and my Event life. I was incomplete and yet completely full. Damn, it felt good to get away from the world and float in the waters of Tahiti not caring about a thing except being silly with your Bestfriend like we use to do when we were 14.

And then there was the time I went to the waterfalls. I danced among the eels in the shallow waters and the tourist from America and France watched me, taking pictures. And what a picture I must have been! ohh but it felt good to let my soul dance. When I was finished I walked up to the water fall and leaned against the wall of the cliff while everything poured down on me. My Pareo was soaked, but my spirit was alive. Awakening doesn’t quite explain it. But underneath that waterfall I could feel the layers of my past pains peel away. Layer by layer, tears to hurt. I walked away with a smile on my face and a strength guiding my every step.

Where am I going? Finally it was time for me to say goodbye to my loved ones and the life that was so different from the life I would be thrown back into. I didn’t cry when I said goodbye because I finally found an answer to some of my questions. Where was I going in life? Getting on a jet plane back to the states. But after that? Oh, baby I’ll be back.

I will be back. Xoxox

Lindsay Reva

0

The Perfect Rainbow

Today I was proud to be human. Strange statement? I don’t think so. Bullies, bombs, unlawful persecutions, hate, racism, waste, and a never ending path of pain laid out for us if we choose to follow it. There have been so many moments where I had felt ashamed to be part of this thing called mankind. Don’t we all have remembrances of seeing something so horrible that your stomach squeezes into a knot of disgust, while your mind tingles with an aftertaste of numbness because you can’t quite comprehend what just happened? If not, what a wonderfully sheltered life you must have. Then again, it could be your choice…that’s either a hell of a control you have on your consciousness or maybe you’re alien(some people call it lucky). I, however, am not. Seeing such disappointment, sadness, and bruises on the face of our times hurts me. Some days I get so tired that I feel lifeless.

But today was different…

While I was driving I saw a young man step besides his lover so he could take the path that lay closest to the on-coming traffic. I might forgive him for everything just because of how natural of a motion that was for him.

My uncle Remi had noticed that I wear rosaries in my pictures and today he surprised me with thee most exquisite Rosary I had ever seen in my life; Jesus’ silver body upon a cross of mother pearl and hung on a string of Tahitian black pearls that came in hues like the shimmering ocean. Could something more beautifully symbolic exist for me? If it does, I haven’t seen it.

My cousin who I hadn’t seen in 5 years wanted to take me out to breakfast just because. Simplicity at its finest.

I danced. For the first time in 5 years I put on a pareo(a simple black cloth tied like a skirt) and danced to the Toere and Pahu drums. It shook me alive and made me want more, more, more. And so I kept dancing harder even when the other girls skimped on their techniques because of fatigue. On and on until I thought I would faint. But my happiness carried me to the end. So I continued…I danced and by God I loved it.

But the most beautiful part about my day was when I went to the beach. Sitting on the shore I noticed that the sky was overcast and not as peaceful as I had hoped for. I looked to my right at Moorea, Tahiti’s tiny sister island and back at the fine thin line that separated the blue sky from the blue waters. There I was again, searching the horizon for meaning and I found it when I felt two gentle hands on my shoulders. I looked up to the face of Tehani who I had grown up with as a child. She smiled at me and spoke in a voice so soft that I could barely hear her. “Release everything negative, all your stress and let it go forever.” She reached to her back pocket and for some reason I imagined her pulling out a magic wand tapping my head with an “Abracadabra!” thrown in for good effect. But no, she wasn’t a witch. More like the opposite. She pulled out some Monoi oil and right when the top came off I could smell the sweet Tiare Tahiti flower with a hint of coconut. Tehani’s hands started to massage me from my head all the way to my toes. I didn’t even feel awkward when she started rubbing my stomache. The sun was setting but I closed my eyes because I didn’t want to cry. It wasn’t that I was sad, my life is AMAZING! But her every touch and word was so unselfish and kind that I felt like I was witnessing a miracle. When she was finished she told me to go deep into the waters so everything bad could be washed away and that’s exactly what I did.

Did it work? Who knows.

But one thing is forsure. Before that miracle I hadn’t really noticed the couple on the side of the road as I drove home from the restaurant that my cousin took me which I hadn’t really appreciated as much as I should have. Nor did I take the time to remember what it felt like when I moved my body to the sounds of life. Only when she placed her kindness on me everything became apparent like a rainbow after a hundred years of rain.

Let me never forget that as much as there is bad in the world, there is also good.

xoxox

Lindsay Reva

1

Black and Blue

Some people tell me to take it easy.

I can see the concern in their eyes when I try to explain my visions and upcoming projects. They look at me as if I’m a stranger speaking some unknown foreign language. Weariness laced with doubt. I feel it everytime I spread a thin layer of concealer under my eyes to hide the shadowed lack of sleep that stands out like bruises on my pale skin. Starting a blog, running an event company (@reva_event), Executive Director at Alliance Francaise San Diego, trying to be a good daughter and an exceptional friend. Living this thing called LIFE! It takes so much time and effort, especially if your trying to do it right. But you know what?

 Even if I turn black and blue in my pursuit I wouldn’t change a thing about it. I live for the hustle.

Truth. I stay up late working like a doggg but oh my gawdddd how good it feels to be doing something (ANYTHING!!) while taking baby steps closer to the dreams and aspirations that have been waiting patiently in the back of my mind, searching, plotting, for that perfect moment when they could take their first steps out of oblivion into the blinding light of existence. There are people all around the world who don’t have the opportunities like the ones I have (don’t deny how privileged we are in America!). A support system; My family is the only reason why I’m solid and haven’t dissolved long, long ago into a blob of jello. I’m healthy, even if I might be going down hill (I don’t remember seeing those dimples last week!) And I want a better life so baddd. That last one is the biggest deciding factor for my fate. Yes, I want to succeed for my family and loved ones but it’s only when you want it for yourself that things start to get desperate. A desperation that leads me on through the nights of stressful tiresome and beyond the voices of doubt-OHHHH how loud those voices shout!- into almost a calm bliss of anticipation and gratification. Even if I don’t get what I want, even if I’m still living at home with my parents, no kids, no husband, I’m still focused on trying to piece together the picture of how I think my life should hang on the frames of perfection and self satisfaction. Shouldn’t that count for something?

I’m trying. I want a better life and I’m willing to do the work. If everyday you wake up and want something then what’s stopping you from getting it? Wake up and get it!!! If you do go that route just don’t forget the things you have in your life because your so focused on the things you want to have. Family. Love. Happiness. And all the other mushy stuff that sounds like a cliche but matters nonetheless. If you do catch yourself being pulled by the currents of forgetfulness then maybe it’s time for you to take a vacation… Even God needed a break.

And that’s where I find myself now because even though that desperation was still there, I sensed a softness to it. An obtuseness from how far I’ve come and everything I’ve been through. So here is where I stand: A few weeks of wanderlust since there is nothing like getting lost, to come back and be found.

But you better recognize, just like homegirl Teresa, wherever I go I’m going with all my heart. For you I wish only the same.

Xoxox

Lindsay Reva

0

Aimee Cebreros

Aimee is a unicorn. A mythical, magical human being of a creature who should not exist and yet does. She is not the first Miss Heiva San Diego and certainly not the last..But Aimee is different.

About 8 years ago I decided that I wanted to create a beauty pageant for young blooming girls who embraced the Tahitian culture and the Pacific Islander community. There’s not just one type of person who goes for things like this. The Pageant type? I mean.. Girls who like dressing up, getting there makeup done, and WINNING! Does that really make them all about the pageantry? No. I say that because I ran in a pageant and at the same time I was a manager at Autozone, knew how to change my own oil, and drove a Kawasaki Motorcycle. Was I a pageant girl? Not the usual, but that didn’t stop me from winning. Maybe the dividing factor lies in the vision of seeing yourself with that crown and the elevation which comes with it whether it be prestige, a scholarship, or the networking. Maybe the imagination is the dividing factor for those who run for titles and those who say things like ” Oh no, that is sooo not me. I could never be someone like that” As if a pageant Queen were part Pariah. They’re not. They do it because they have a certain belief in themselves whether they want to play the cunning and confident or the sweetly humbled.  Manifestation baby. Of course not everyone wins(which KILLS me!), and I always walk away with my heart in the grips of these darling beauties with perfect manicured nails. It’s not that I necessarily think that every one of them should have won…because if I’m to be honest there are some that are better for the role as an advocate for the islands than others. What gets me everytime is when I see how much they want that title, how much preparation they put into their cultural costumes, the love and assurance I see in their families eyes as they suffocate their beloved with words of assurance. Some years, there are girls who won the crown who nobody expected…

ENTER AIMEE. She distanced herself from me more than the other contestants I would say or maybe I distanced myself from her? She was kind, but she wasn’t overly kind. She was always aware of her surrounding, independent in her own right, and yet everywhere she went her mother followed(Not a fussy I’m your mother and you will WIN damnit! but more of a mother and daughter two -is-better-than-one package deal. Their bond was their strength). I like to talk with the girls to get to know them because I want to assure them that they will be fine no matter the outcome. They need that assurance sometimes because walking into a room of contestants getting ready to be interviewed is like walking into a force field of nerves. You can feel it, almost taste it in the air. So I made my rounds and aimee was the last one, sitting on the ground daintily playing with a necklace and getting her affairs in perfect order.

She smiled at me and I had to blink at the brightness of  her perfectly shaped teeth, how vivid her bright her lips stood against her pale ivory skin, and how lovely she could make the word “Hi.” sound. hmm.. An event/pageant coordinator will succeed if you can correctly read other people. You have to understand how they feel; if they’re enjoying themselves, if they’re anger, sad..you name it. When you figure that out it’s easy to smooth things out or change factors to make those who might be sad happy(Although sometimes no matter what you do some people are just fine with being stuck in their own miseries).  So I tried to read Aimee. She smiled at me and her radiance left me at a disadvantage. I looked up at her mother who was flashing me an equally expensive million dollar smile. Who are these people and how can they be so cool, calm, and collective? Especially when some of the other contestants look like they’re about to be thrown into the fire. I could tell from the way she walked, how when she was surrounded by others she had an air of confidence, as if she was the true competitor and they the spectators ( she probably had no idea either), and at the same time she expected nothing. If she would have lost the title, no tears would have left her eyes. New things would come, different opportunities, but she would not be affected by any of it. Aimee just had that persona that no matter where she went in life her blue prints were signed by God carving out a true path in success. I didn’t know of this at the time of course. If I’m to be honest with myself I think I tried to steer clear of her because her aura shook me. I was unsure how to proceed with someone who needed no proceeding. This girl didn’t need me! We needed her.

The pageant passed on and there were more than a few girls who ROCKED it from the get go. But there were two girls who everyone had their eyes on, and Aimee was one of them. I was mingling with the audience when they called her name out. That smile was like the first ray of sun after a thousand days in darkness. Brilliant is an understatement. Her family calling out her name and crying definitely set the tone. How much happiness lay in that moment I will never be able to measure but I’m sure it could be felt all the way from Mexico, the land where Miss Aimee had come. Because of the distance that lay between us I didn’t know what to expect from her as the new Miss Heiva San Diego title holder, but I will ALWAYS had an  open mind when working with people. And I found out what’s it like working with Aimee soon enough.

Aimee; winner, beautiful in pictures and even more stunning in person, going to school to pursue higher education, organizing food and clothing runs to people who are in need in Mexico, never far from her family who adores her like the princess she is, a friend to everyone, always willing to help, has never once said no to any of my request as a advocate to the culture, has never once said no when I needed her the most. I know. I am really tooting this girls horn, but I just can’t help it. Like I said before, to succeed you have to be able to read other people, and when I read Aimee her syllables are loveliness, her verbs are marked with the inks of greatness, her every word is placed in perfect precision so that the whole of this young girl will only rise, rise, rise, Somehow changing things so that the Heiva San Diego is no longer helping her to go forward, but instead the girl herself is helping us to go forward. That’s the kind of advocate I had been looking for all along. The kind of person that I didn’t think existed because people had their own agendas, wants, and needs and were only willing to go as far as they deemed.

But unicorns really do exist. Their skin glows even in the shadows. Even when the winds pick up there is never a hair out of place. When they walk into a room: Magic. And the most magical part about them: the core of their being, a heart uninfluenced and inflamed in beauty.

If you ever see a unicorn you better take a picture because they are making moves.

xoxox

Lindsay Reva

0

Photo 360 San Diego

Yesterday was NUTS! But in all the right ways.

A friend ask me to round up some models for a photoshoot. This wasn’t that uncommon of a request. Afterall, I try to stay involved in the Pacific Islander community (Heiva San Diego, PIFA, ect..) and sometimes photographers or organizations ask me for models with that Island girl look or even those whose looks scream EXOTIC. You know. Long hair, curvy thighs, smile like the sunrise, bla, bla. It just so happens that a lot of my friends have that look so sometimes all it takes is a few texts and I have a whole lineup for a photoshoot or  fashion show. But this time was different. I opened my phone, read the text, and felt a little numb as I deciphered the words that felt like a foreign language. ” A couple of hundred photographers…ooh and by the way, we want you to be one of the models.” Hm. Maybe auto text is being evil as usual?

” Are you sure you want me to be a model? ” For 200+ photographers!! But no, it wasn’t auto-text’s evil tendencies. They really did want me. This was either going to be magical or tragic.

I tried not to think about the amount of people who would be staring at me like an object and instead about the cause. Photo 360 San Diego is a collaboration event with the San Diego school districts for aspiring professional photographers. I liked thinking about that. Imagining teenagers with sweaty hands clutching their cameras like it was the Holy Grail, looking straight into my eyes through the lens that they must have cleaned every time they picked it up like a loving caress.

Then it was Wednesday. I showed up at San Diego City College at 7am with my models in tow, our faces clean of makeup with that its-too-damn-early-in-the-AM grudge in our eyes. It didn’t take us long to wake up though because from the get go we were in it to have fun.  I was led into a room with other models, make-up artist and hair stylist, and Fashion Designer extraordinaire Ugochi Iwuaba. Speaking of fashion; THE CLOTHES! OMG.OMG.OMG. When I saw the clothes they had set aside for us I was an equal amount of thrilled and terrified. Terrified that I wouldn’t fit in ANYTHING ( or if I did, the possibilities of what one slight bend would mean-  PPPFFFT. Rip right down the middle! ..oops) and excited that I was given the opportunity to wear such fly pieces while  photographed by the masses. Because let me tell you. When I am dressed to the nines, my makeup done, hairs did, and I’m looking HOT AS HELL FIRE, well then that’s exactly how I’m going to feel inside. FIRE. That outside layers you throw on, they aren’t just garments. They’re infinite. A shield, a collaboration of your creativity, the expression of your soul, simplicity, cleanliness, they keep you warm, they can accentuate your ever curve, they can hide your every curve, clothes can outline your character and beliefs by the colors and schemes you wear. Or maybe they can be just as good as a burlap sack. NOT! clothes can be everything and when I look good on the outside I feel good on the inside. That’s why when Madame Ugochi pulled out a tight sand colored skirt that went a little past my knees and a vivid green and orange open shoulder top with sleeves that hid my arms in all the right places( Thank God!) I was sailing on cloud nine.  If that isn’t an occasion to be HAPPY about then I don’t know what is. I felt like a DIVA, like a dream. Madame Ugochi’s pieces were just so flyyyyyy. Think African Queen meets socialite or as she says “Luxury fashion with an Afro twist.” Yeah.. I felt BAD! and I don’t mean that in a about to rob the bank way nor a Debbie Downer. Ha! No. I slipped on my Steve Madden Nude stilettos and took a peek in the mirror. Superwomen, you ain’t got nothing on me. 

My Hair was put up in a  Fauxhawk by the ever so creative stylist and studio owner Sy Calac (@esoterichair Eso Hair Salon-16160 Highway 76, set 303, Pauma Valley, CA). It only took him about 15 minutes for the master piece that had once been my hair and was now the embodiment of DRAMATIC. I loved it. Every single strand of it! For makeup I was done by the every so beautiful and lovely Stephanie (INSTA personal- @Flyystephj Makeup- @stephjstyles). She hooked me up with a matte black lip which I was nervous about in the beginning but by the end of the day had crazy thoughts that involved a sharpie and the words longer lasting. Talent on talent on talent.

Then I made my appearance. My first shoot was with another model, Ivan S. Harris ( @Ishthesocialjournalist @ivansharris) which was interesting…but above all HILARIOUS. We were instructed to play the couple scene. Thankfully the layers of makeup I wore had duel purpose: Make my skin look radiant and hide how red I must have been. We went back and forth from corny prom poses to there is no world without you poses. Very intense and very relaxed..All under the scrutiny of young photographers. Their giggles made me giggle.

The highlight of the day:

The interactions between model and photographer. They weren’t use to posing people and giving directions to models but they were trying and the reason why I appreciate that so much was because when I was their age..I didn’t. I didn’t try to do anything. I just cruised by on autopilot letting life come at me full speed. Didn’t make an effort, neither did I know what I wanted to do. There were so many things I could have done if only I had tried and that makes a huge difference in whether a person’s satisfied in life and if they find happiness(yes, sometimes you have to go after it).  So the ultimate shoutout goes to the aspiring photographers and anyone else who’s making an effort for a more meaningful life; Some who will try and some who will try even harder. May the force be with you;)

xoxox

Lindsay Reva

1

Create a website or blog at WordPress.com

Up ↑