The Things we Carry in the end

This is not just about the clothes, it’s deeper than the surface..contd.

Death Is Inevitable

While staring at the words “Here 4 now, Not 4ever,” I got a call from my father saying his health was in question, and in that moment, everything stopped. I thought about my childhood, our relationship, and how proud I was of his accomplishments.I also wished that his artist lifestyle and the distance between us hadn’t sometimes made it harder for us to connect in the ways I had longed for.

I was so excited to share my ideas about this project with him, and then, I thought, did I intuitively call upon or manifest a tragedy? How could this happen. While spiraling, the question hit me: Is he proud of me? I started to wonder if I was where I needed to be in life. We all have those moments when we question whether we’re living up to our loved ones' expectations—or even our own. Have you ever wondered if you’re where you need to be?

I began to question everything: Am “I” where I need to be? What will I leave behind? Have I failed him for not pursuing a career in music? For not having a family yet? How much time do we have left together?

We work hard to gain acknowledgment and acquire things—clothes, cars, homes. Don’t get me wrong- I’m not saying don’t enjoy nice things and don’t have aspirations, but none of it comes with us. What really matters in the end are the moments we share, the love we give, and the people we become. It’s not about the quantity of what we own, but the quality and meaning behind it. Fewer, more meaningful possessions are far more valuable. In a world that often measures success by what we own, it’s easy to forget that the most meaningful things aren’t things at all. What really matters to you? What are the things you’d want to hold onto in the end?

The naked mannequin at the end represents this shift. It’s not about our possessions, but our conscience. Did we live with integrity? Were we kind? Did we make a difference? When it’s time to rest, can we be at peace with ourselves? What matters is not how many mistakes we’ve made, but whether we’ve learned from them.

I think of my mother, who gave everything for me. She taught me to be kind and to face life with love, no matter how many times we fell. Her strength shaped me, and I’m endlessly proud of the woman she is.

Where is my true home? Is it here or there, in the places I’ve lived? Neither has felt like home in the way I hoped. I came to the U.S. at 11, and the adjustment wasn’t easy. My mom and I had to find our footing in a new world. But I’ve learned that “home” isn’t always a place—it’s a feeling, a peace we find within ourselves. A true home is the love we carry and the moments we share.

The lesson is simple: Life isn’t about what we collect—it’s about who we are, our intentions, and the impact we leave behind. Artistry, too, carries this power—it’s a bridge to the deeper parts of ourselves. Preserving that artistry keeps us connected to our humanity, reminding us of who we truly are and what we truly value. It’s about finding the perfect balance and not letting our aspirations dictate our life.