thefoxintheflowercrown

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My Blog Website

Hey everyone! Since my last post I’ve gone on to make my own blog website and I’ve posted content to said website. Find me at https://lifelikemari.wixsite.com/foxintheflowercrown 

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A New Year of Vision, Unity and Success

Good day to you my dear readers, and let me begin by saying, a belated merry Christmas and a happy New Year. May this be a year unlike any other, a year that greets you with blessing and opportunity, kisses your forehead with glee, tells of exciting new adventures, romances and discoveries, and wholly embraces you with open arms. The time has come to make space for change, by wholeheartedly investing in the new year, decisively choosing optimism, growth, and the will to forgive and forget the trials and tribulations of the year gone by. This will be our year – I can feel it from my lady mo to my big toe. The time has come to clear that crammed closet, opt for a fresh bushel of bedside blooms, whip out that flash pair of kicks for an extra spurt of confidence, dust down the old crafts coffer and hobbies holder, and flip the calendar to the first and favoured month of January. How I have missed pondering all the subtle but sweet realities of my days, and thereafter, writing them down for you to read and share in. It has been a notable while since my last post, but rest assured, I shall remain consistent in this new year. On another note, I have some very exciting news.

In just over a month, I will commence my third year of study and my first year of language study which absolutely blows my mind. How far I have come, how far we have come, and how proud I am to kiss the past year goodbye and enter the next, hand in hand with you. With plenty of other known and unknown developments on the horizon, this year is sure to be a jumbo-sized fortune cookie, ready to reveal substantial greatness and promise, and to be consumed wholly and boldly by those who dare to defy all crippling casts of reality. Yes, it is indeed an exciting time to be alive, with a tremendous year of transformation ahead of us. I can confidently say my list of individual goals and resolutions is, in itself, vast and filled with many challenges. Likewise, I am sure. Thus, let us enter this new year together, and devise a strategic game plan, to provoke and see change take place in our lives, and thereby, in this wholesome new year, witness the exciting fulfilment of our ambitions. Do not allow yourself to be discouraged, or fearful of failure or short-lived motivation, for you can decide to rise from the fall and continue to press on in your dreams and desires. There is no doubt in my mind that I will fall short of certain promises and goals I have set for the new year, after all to err is human and for many, myself included, resolutions have always been forgotten or flung by February. However, the only way to combat lukewarm, lazy living is to train in vision, and adopt ambition. We must aim to begin the New Year with confidence, certainty and authority – but I assure you, you are not alone, nor will you ever be in this venture for success, sensibility and self-discovery. We have each other, after all.

We must fill our heads with words of encouragement and hope, reciting “I can” and “I will” over our own lives and the lives of others, drowning out any unwanted, counteractive cynicisms.  Let us be more optimistic about such things as weight lifting, salad munching, relationship mending, career building or any other New Year’s resolutions jotted on our lists. Above all things, let us live a life that is unapologetically true to who we are, a life that aims to bestow kindness upon others, and embrace every moment that is ours to construct and confide in. I understand that the preach is easier than the practice, which is why the very first step we take in physically fulfilling our ambitions is the real defining stride, the true commencement of change. For however bruised and beaten by the past, we are brave and able. I tell you the truth, you will undoubtedly score success, after pouring time, effort, and perseverance into not only yourself, but into those around you. This is the key idea. Thus, above all things, remain patient, focused, and motivated. Diligently keep at the path that leads to not only your own victory, but to the redemption and joy of those around you. Believe me, I am still on my own journey of discovery, purposefully having to push myself every day to be productive, proactive, and in some possible way, a blessing. These words I write are not only to encourage and spark inspiration in the reader, but also in the writer.

I have always been hopeful for the day sweet motivation comes frantically knocking at my door, before settling as a regular tenant. However, we are the ones to instil motivation, as it is a benefit birthed from choice. Thus, today is the day we choose dedication and drive, as there is no more room for delay, and every hour of our still youthful new year is priceless and momentous. In light of this, I suggest we make a vow together, an oath if you will. A promise, that we shall do our utmost best this new year in all that we do, through all that we are, to become our finest selves, and to impact the lives of strangers and loved ones alike, for an exceedingly paramount new world that is solely defined by the ideals and character of kindness, love, acceptance, cooperation, vision, truth and individuality. It is my wish for you to know that, although you are strong and capable on your own, it takes even greater courage, strength and perseverance to consider, include and uplift those around you, shine a light upon their path, and also guide them to greatness. All of us need a helping hand, a push in the right direction, so if I could leave you with one thing this day, it would be this. Remember, true resolution, revolution and change starts with one, and always ends with many. So today and throughout this fine year, allow yourself to be that one from which all wonders begin to bloom and multiply.

All my love, 

Jean-Mari Vos

Illustration by: Jean-Mari Vos

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Body Image, Beauty and the Spirit Thereof

I will tell you this, my heart is racing and I am experiencing a multitude of emotions at this very moment but hate is certainly not one of them. Preaching hate is one of the acts I have vowed against, particularly when it comes to something as feeble and fundamental as body image. Thus, I want you to know, the good words I do intend on preaching here are meant with the best of intentions and the purest of thoughts. To anyone and everyone, I am a firm believer in beauty in all shapes, all sizes, but specifically in the right spirit. In my opinion, the heart really is and should be seen as the sole affirmation of beauty, desirability and even sexiness across all genders – but it’s not. Most people spend their lives building this sensationalised, often unrealistic and rather outdated idea of beauty that the average person must somehow succumb to – I was one of them. I believed the body had to be slim and small to be stunning. In saying this, a slim and small body is exceptionally beautiful, especially if that body is healthy, nurtured and filled with a good and kind spirit. Consequently, this should be the same perspective on any other body shape or size, big, medium, small, extra small, and so forth. After all, we forget, a vessel’s worth is dependent on its cargo, not the outer paint job or fancy woodwork. Thus, what you carry within is your best feature, the most important aspect of yourself, and thereby, the sole legitimate portrayal of your beauty. Regardless of your gender, sexuality, exterior, or social status, if you were to look in the mirror right now, whether hidden or apparent to you, your life and breath, your being, your self-splendour is staring back awaiting your acknowledgement. It’s time to recognise that there’s more to life than the clothes you wear, the diet you are on, or the leg day you may or may not have skipped. Before you know it, you will be a wrinkled and wise Bingo advocate, and all you will have left to show is your heart – so treat it well, practice humanity and humility, and prepare for a future without a glossed and glowing exterior. 

I was a chunky chomp of a kid, with rolls to spare and definitely, a forehead or two, and yet, I was so happy. As I grew older, taller, developed and braved the prosecutions of puberty, majority of my baby fat disappeared. I was at my best, and looking back now, I was fine with a capital F – but at the time, I was insecure, never content, and always obsessed with shrinking. Today, whilst lounging on a two seater on the train, I pondered the reasoning behind this. Why was I constantly unsatisfied with the girl in the mirror? Why did I never give myself the credit I was due, or recognised the beauty I possessed? At present, I am far bigger in size and I never truly had a problem with this, in fact, it took me quite some time to notice. After all, I was loved and accepted for who I am – particularly by the people who mattered most. However, in this last year, I have come to learn that everyone’s idea of beauty has boundaries, even the ones closest to you. Thus, marching to the beat of your own drum has never been more vital, for it can be trialling to overcome the hurtful words and judgements of the ones you love. So let me say this, there is nothing wrong with wanting to get fit and toned at the gym, or going on a clean eating diet, as long as you do it for the right reason, as long as you do it for you. Furthermore, there is nothing wrong with wanting the best for your child, friend or family member, and expressing concerns regarding their health – but not their image, for it is quite simply not your place. Beauty and the definition thereof should be decided by each individual – but should never be forced onto others. For far too long, I have studied the words of my family and friends, basing my own self-worth and exterior beauty on their ideals, and this has left me with a void. I have come to realise I am not reaching my full potential, for I am not as healthy and fit as I should be. Though this concerned me, my body image undeniably concerned me even more so. This is the ultimate proof of my poor prioritisation. There is an immense distinction between image and health, and it has become clear to me that I spend more time being worried about my dress size and plump face, than my cholesterol and overweight state. Therefore, it is now time for me to clearly distinguish between the two, and accept and love my body for what it is now, and for what it will be. It is time to set a goal towards improving my health, disregarding the negative nonsense of the exterior as the exclusive establishment of beauty.

The issues that arise from the entire topic of body image is due to self-judgement and the judgement of one another. That is ultimately the one thing that must come to an end. Decide for yourself what beauty means, recognise that you are beautiful, and that if you wish to change for yourself, then nothing and no-one should stand in your way. Do not blame those that wish you to conform or heed to their own expectation of beauty, but rather, teach them of self-acceptance and the eradication of judgement, for in the midst of their understanding, they too will learn of self-love, and the falsehoods of societal expectations. This is the best gift you can grant yourself and the ones you love. In all honesty, I am on my own health journey, and although I have decided the spirit is the secret to beauty, I will still struggle with my own pre-conceived ideas of perfect until I master the right kind of thinking. I will aim to improve my health, my fitness, my body, for that is what I want for myself. Having this clarity, setting this goal, and aligning both positive thinking and personal aspirations in health and fitness has certainly eased something for me. It has made me more self-aware and content with who I am now, who I was, and who I will be. Thus, to my dearest readers, if you take but a single message from this writing, shamelessly and without doubt, accept that you are beautiful in your own way, and that the opinions or views of others are ultimately irrelevant. Focus on your spirit, and the heart you share with and introduce to others daily, for it is the one constant variable of true beauty on which you can always rely, and it will never be obsolete.

All my love,

Jean-Mari Vos

Illustration by: Sasha S.H., OssuariumFloreus. Find her artworks and store items at: https://www.etsy.com/au/shop/OssuariumFloreus?ref=l2-shopheader-name

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Friends for Safekeeping

Believe it or not, I was never good at making friends. When I grew to the height of an average four-year-old, I was still hiding behind my mother, clenching to her knees as her work colleagues bent to my level and introduced themselves so politely. Though introductions were difficult and I found myself fearful of friendships, I soon learnt their value and the joys of conversing, laughing and playing with others. My parents and their friends often described me as shy, but I believe as a child, I was simply distant though nonetheless, very content. Absent minded and unfazed by babbling mothers and their screaming toddlers in the park sand pit, I could amuse myself for hours alone without any need to converse or befriend.  As far as I was concerned, my mother was my best friend and my father, my hero. When my sister was brought into the world, she was unwelcomed by my evident display of jealousy, but soon she became the very one friend I cherished above all others. I had everything a girl could want, so I naively believed there to be no need for any other companions. As the first few vital years of my life passed, I excitedly entered school. First grade was notably a nightmare, until I met Suné. From day one, her jet black piggy tails and freckled smile gave me a reason to cheer and chant. Every day with her was pure bliss. She taught me how to master hopscotch, jump rope without losing my front teeth, and play chess. Although I was always bested by her in the clever game of chess, she never once boasted of her victory. She was a humble, kind and intelligent girl whom gifted me with so many life lessons. Now, she reaps the fruit of her goodness, an international chess champion from South Africa and a beautiful, grown woman – such wonders our world has instore for those who are kind and deserving. She was my first real and true friend, certainly one I will treasure forever. Though she is living her life across the seas and a great distance from me, I will always remember her. After all, it is trying to forget the first person you shared such an intimate friendship with. 

When I came to Australia, I was awfully displeased. It was a foreign place, a place I had never heard of until that fateful night my parents sat us down and announced our family’s new adventure. It was the fifth grade and the year 2008. I was mortified at the thought of exposure to Australian children. I believed they would surely make a snack out of me, and I was convinced I would never again see the light of day, or witness the pleasantries of a friend. It was bizarre to me, how my parents could deny me my basic human rights by dragging me to such an alien place with such foreign people. Note, I was young and overdramatic – Australia is now my home and what I believe to be the world’s greatest paradise, and land of the free. Unbeknownst to me, I was not the only new girl losing my marbles in my fifth grade classroom.

Nikita Mathur, a shy but earthly girl of identical qualities and interests was enrolled that very same week. It is not very often you share the title of ‘new girl’ with another. Of course, our boisterous and bubbly teacher, Mrs. Reader believed this to be the perfect opportunity for middle school matchmaking and instantly paired us together. From that day forth, we not only became eternally indebted to our glitter crazed teacher, we also became completely and undoubtedly inseparable. We experienced all things together, from High School Musical marathons, to pillow fights, embarrassing stunts, uncontrollable laughter and truth or dare ketchup shots. She became the ying to my yang, my best friend. Till this day, she is the one friend that has stood by me through thick and thin. I certainly have envisioned our forever friendship, to grow old side by side, knitting matching sweaters and sporting the same pair of outrageous slippers, whilst drinking Tequila infused tea. She keeps me well in line when I stray from the right path, inspires me to do my very best in all I pursue, and encourages me to be kind and accepting of others. Nikita is the best this world has to offer, and she chose me as her closest companion. Quite simply, this life is sweeter with her in it and therefore, I am perhaps the most privileged woman to know a friendship as gracious and inviolable. To my readers, find a single soul, a friend like Niki to stroll through both life’s lousiest and loveliest ventures – it is well worth your while. Today, I’ve made several other wonderful friends, like the health crazed, inspiring and beautiful Anna Patch, and the cool, confident and stunning India Lawrence. Both these two girls have contributed greatly to my happiness and provided me with such a positive and powerful perspective on life. You could say they are two angels – though independent, they have always embraced me with undying love and support.

Now, as for the present. I have been undoubtedly blessed with what I can only describe as a united company of brothers that does everything in their power to love and protect their plump and poise, meals on wheels of a sister – that’s me. Jack Nolan, Isaiah Dunrobin, Chris Whitehead and Aaron Luckman are the men of legends, the dreamboat gang of geeks you know and love, or learn to after several drinks (I joke, I joke). Though the squad of six, including myself and Jamie King, formed a year before my return to the Gold Coast in senior year, I was welcomed with open arms. Jamie introduced me and by the end of senior year, I knew I would never quite suit any other mould. Fast forward to 2017, and we are still together despite all odds, come political debates or poorly scheduled Maccas runs.  Indeed, we are an outrageous bunch, a recipe for chaotic adventure, an unlikely group of diverse individuals, a family. To aid you in your understanding, we are much like the Losers Club from the hilarious horror movie IT, a squad of distinct characters, devoted not to the town of Derry, but to one another. In my eyes, each and every one of them are so vital to the longevity of our family.

Isaiah, said to be the one with a heated temper is, in actuality, the one with the greatest patience. He has tolerated all the crude humour and bad banter, adoring us just the same as the day prior. He is a strong and lenient man with a faithful heart, filled solely with good intention, nobility, and a passion for big guns and fried chicken. Though he may be the loudest, I love him for that very reason – oh, and the Elmo hello he insists on projecting every time he sees me. Jack, though quiet and awkward at first, is the most kind, honest and hilarious member of the pack. Though he jokes about his forehead being his biggest feature, I believe it to be his heart – which is why he is very dear to mine. Though my weird remarks and outright affection cripples him in cringe, he has always been there for me, and I am certain he will be in future. He is an intelligent, true and daring man with an unpredictable sense of spontaneity and compassion. Chris, otherwise known as the leader of the crew, is a charismatic, caring and competitive individual with a heart of gold. He certainly gives the best hugs and never ceases to surprise me with his wisdom. He’s made me laugh uncontrollably, stood by me when times were tough, and always considered me when I felt belittled or excluded. Much like Isaiah, he is the big brother I never had. His willingness and goodness is beyond admirable – and his love for chicken dinners, even more so. Aaron – wow, what a guy. The pink power ranger, whom rallies at every gig in town, fearlessly chugs alcohol, pulls all-nighter shifts at the Krusty Krab, and curses his squad with terrible puns. He is a kind-hearted, aflame legend, the dungeon master of our D&D sessions and a heck of a friend. He brings immense soul and sound to the group, with the Veronicas on repeat and a whacky catch phrase on standby. Finally, Jamie, the peacemaking prodigy, the sweet-hearted and open-minded individual that stole my heart at only fourteen. I could carry on forever about him. He inspires me daily to be the best I can be, to be a light in the world, and to pursue my passions. His down to earth nature, selfless ways and humble heart never ceases to amaze me – how lucky we all are to know and love him. Jamie is courageous and wonderful, patient and persistent, and just like all the others, he demonstrates a passion for life, for adventure and for his friends.

These five men are the mighty musketeers whom brings joy to my life, along with my dearest Nikita, sweet Anna and spirited India. They have undoubtedly changed me for the better, as their friendship has invested into my becoming. I certainly cannot claim to be the young girl I once was, shy and fearful of friendships. I am however, still as absent minded and a handful, so thank the heavens they are all patient with me. To my friends, I am grateful for each and every one of you. I thank you from the bottom of my heart for being yourselves, and for contributing to my life in the most beautiful, exceptional way. I can only hope that I have done the same for you, and that our journey together will never cease. You are all outstanding. To my readers, I cannot stress enough how important it is to seek out the right friends whom will lift you up, support you, and guide you through your life expedition. Furthermore, do not shy away from friendships. Of course, it is okay to be afraid, it is understandable that you might prefer to be on your own – but as I have come to learn, life is meant to be shared and thereby, embraced.  Do not deny yourself the pleasures of company, of companionship. Friends are made to be cherished, to be loved, and to hold near and dear. If you are reading this now and can relate to these words, your heart filled with warmth as you identify the key individuals that have enriched your life the way these people have mine, then I want to encourage you to let them know. Our time is limited on this earth, so be it through song or poem, spoken word, a letter or message, a text or phone call, a hug or a kiss, announce your appreciation. Make your love known and share it with the world, for you are valued, and those you value should know of your gratitude.

All my love,

Jean-Mari Vos

Illustration by: Grace Helmer, So Super Awesome. Find her at: http://sosuperawesome.com/post/121234395440/grace-helmer-on-tumblr

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The Value of Seconds in a Sweet and Short Life

“You know, sometimes all you need is twenty seconds of insane courage. Just literally twenty seconds of just embarrassing bravery. And I promise you, something great will come of it.” – Benjamin Mee, We Bought a Zoo. 

All my life I have witnessed the impressive works of spontaneous souls, dedicating their lives to twenty second, or more significant intervals of sweet insanity. Often times, they were already of an old age, wrinkled and wise, with plenty of stories to tell, and the souvenir scars to match. One might say they had nothing to lose, after all, they were already forgotten to the world – or so they believed and made believe. Yet, the legacy continues on. That of twenty-second triumphs, sure to make a good headline in the paper, but an even better quote in an enthralling novel. Benjamin Mee, writer of We Bought a Zoo, the captivating adventure novel that tells of risks and restoration in rural places, insists that twenty seconds is the sole ingredient for change, and quite literally, immediate opportunity. I believe this theory to be entirely correct. Alas, I certainly cannot claim to be a dare devil, formed from smoke and fire with extinguished fear and undying spontaneity. I was always one to worship the rule book, or rather, the rules I convinced myself were instilled by authority, but were undoubtedly devised by me for me in accordance to my own boundaries. You know, it is true what they say – we are our own worst critic. Without notice, I have entirely neglected the chance for change numerous times before, numbed by the false fables of self-doubt. In saying this, I have had my moments of spontaneous outbursts and fearless confrontations, leaping from high places, and of course, humiliating stunts. Nonetheless, these thrilling ticks of time are scarce when in actuality, life is supposed to be filled with such surreal and senseless seconds. Considering such a insignificant price for adventure, I would say we can all afford such a remarkable luxury. After all, change itself is priceless and deserved by every one of us.

There is one man that has allowed me to recognise the swift nature of time and the importance of boldly embracing it. Ken King, father to my beloved boyfriend, Jamie and husband to an equally wonderful woman, Penny King, was an adventurer like no other and a true advocate for sparking change in one’s own life. From fiercely facing tides by sailboat, to opening a restaurant in wild and wondrous South Africa, Ken lived a full life of spontaneity and noble endeavours. His lust for travel and tasting foreign tradition was remarkable and inspiring, to say the very least. Though life endlessly tested his will, he never crumbled beneath such trials, defying both his own expectations and those of the people around him. Before his passing, he insisted in a daze, that he was going on a holiday, packing his suitcase at the break of dawn in preparation for another adventure. Nobody quite knew what adventure he spoke of, for what journey he was preparing for. In his last days, I pondered this desire he had, this undying determination he exhibited, to reel his suitcase from his wardrobe and awaken the household to prepare for new travels. Though he had little energy and his body was weak, he pushed himself out of bed, swiftly gathering his possessions in excitement at such an early hour of the morning. After much thought and consideration, I finally came to a conclusion. It was the very heart of Ken King exposing itself, radiating the same warmth and wander lust of the decades prior to his illness. He was still the same man of tireless ambition and aspiration, leaving all those fortunate enough to know him in complete awe. From his youth to his sweet sixties, he undoubtedly valued his seconds, his time. Even at the end of his days, he gathered every ounce of vigour to voyage to another paradise, another corner of the world. When Ken King put his mind to something, no man or woman could stand in his way, or convince him otherwise. Though many might say his life was too short, I believe he spent it better than most. As they say, time goes by quickly when you are having fun. He used every day to his advantage, every second to widen his horizon, and every hour to contribute to his memory. Thus, I believe his testimony, his legacy is simply this. Do not wish your time away or neglect the endless possibilities it presents, simply because of fear, self-doubt or the remarks of others. Embrace every moment as if it were your last, as life is sweet but short-lived. Live right, live well – just live. For such a testimony, for such a life lesson I cannot be more thankful.

Today I leave you with this. You may still be in the prime of your life, young and fruitful, yet timid and unsure. You may be of a ripe old age, wise, yet crippled by insecurity and dismay. I want to encourage you to live differently, to live boldly. Believe me when I say, I aspire to put my own words into practice and of course, there will be times where you and I both fail to embrace our seconds of spontaneity. Nonetheless, do not lose faith in yourself. Take heart and aspire to have a will like that of Ken King. Though we are all different, there is one thing we share – a lifetime. Though many believe adventure and promise can only come from riches and wealth, this is simply not true. In our day to day life, the very smallest of opportunities can come our way. Whether it is a split second decision to tell someone you love them, or a moment of madness during which you raise your hand to volunteer for missionary, our seconds are precious and ever presenting new prospects for change. Thus, let us forget about the ticking of the clock, but commence our own timer, for our twenty seconds begins here, but a lifetime of adventure awaits.

All my love,

Jean-Mari Vos

Illustration: Out of Time (The Current State of Existence) by Norman Duenas. Find him at http://normanduenas.tumblr.com/post/161456741864/out-of-time-the-current-state-of-existence-by

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Wonder in the Wild

Our days can be filled with grey and mundane matters, a bland routine of necessity and responsibility following us at every turn. We as humans are known to be well acquainted with routine, most probably due to the modern life we lead and its high demands of our time to gain wealth and status. We repeat the same lines of greetings, claim to be fine to all whom enquire, and often focus on the matters concerning us only. We fanatically watch the clock as the hours of work or any other stereotypical bore tick by, and we so unknowingly wish our lives away. Sometimes, the days are identical, without a spark of inspiration or insight to cheer us on. Thus, we become vulnerable to loss. The loss of our flamboyancy, our drive, and thus, the loss of opportunity for change. Consequentially, we search long and hard for something to encapsulate our attention, for our motivation to come knocking like one of the many greats of the Golden Age. Truly I tell you, our search is pointless, as we are the greats of now, the promise of a bright future. We are the rulers, the creators, the visionaries of a new era, and thus, every man and woman is immeasurably valuable. 

This past week has been one of total surprise and endless learning. I am currently employed at a grocer company known as Woolworths, here in Australia. Earlier this week, my line manager handed me a letter she received from head office. It was from a customer, raving about her appreciation and approval of my good service as a cashier. I was taken aback, but undoubtedly grateful and humbled by her efforts to make her opinion of me known. She had so much grace in her writing, and believed me to be “… the kind of person that makes the community a better place.” I could not shake the thought that perhaps, I did not deserve such praise. Prior to receiving her letter, I had begun my shift with a terrible mood and already tiresome attitude. How disappointed she would have been to witness this change in me. The reasoning for it was simple. I became bland and absent, exemplified little effort, and for a brief but sure moment, lost my vivid colour. It all seemed so wrong, for I had gained an admirer that believed me to be kind and ever present. In our lives, we can easily become consumed by repetition, self-interest, and a foul but effortlessly adopted attitude. We forget, or simply see past the breathtaking wonder we are cradled in, the irrefutable significance of a single act of kindness, and demonstration of unconditional love for strangers and friends alike. Madness, I tell you. To think we let a day go by where we aimlessly amble about like the undead, missing perhaps the sole and final chance we will ever posses to change the world, or the life of someone in it.

My job as a cashier, although simple and effortless, is an advantage point. I change lives, be it in the most natural and simplistic way, and I am remarkably proud of that fact. It is foolish to believe that your light does not ignite as bright as another, simply because of your occupation, appearance, or any other ridiculous criteria. You are valued, and now is your chance to share and express such a significant and life-changing promise to another. Yesterday, whilst I was on the register at the very end of the store, an elderly woman came through my cashier. She was kind, gentle, frail, and so softly spoken. I asked how she was, and sweetly, the returned the courtesy. For quite some time, we spoke about our families, our backgrounds, and our homelands. After we had finished speaking and she had paid for her groceries, I waved her goodbye and she walked hesitantly towards the door. Not a moment later, she turned back to me and said, “It means a lot, when someone that barely knows you cares so much.” Yet again, I was so humbled. She had rendered me speechless, though I managed to thank her with a genuine smile. I had finally come to know, the true power in, and profound connection made from a single act of kindness. It was baffling and beyond rewarding. Nonetheless, this is not about me. This is not a sly chance to boast or criticise.  This is a revelation I received, purely by the grace of God and the encouragement from those around me.

In the end of the day, you live a life completely unique and different to mine. Whatever your circumstances, it is never too late to make a conscious decision to embrace the wonder of life, and live your own to the fullest. It is, without a doubt, your duty to awake from the absent quarters of your mind, and pay close attention to those that need you in the present moment. I encourage you to radiate your true colours, and refute against an ordinary, placid living, induced by modern culture, and our own inability to see beyond ourselves and material distractions. As I said, you are valued and you count far more than you might ever apprehend. You are positioned strategically, in a community of your own, to make a fateful change in the lives of others, and the world. Be it as a cashier, a cleaner, a congressman, or a caterer, your job entails far more than just dull duties for a dollar. You have a purpose, to perform a simple act of kindness, be it a smile or genuine conversation. You have the power, the ability to initiate unimaginable change, and thereby, to be the very wonder sought by a wild and phenomenal world.

All my love,

Jean-Mari Vos

Illustration by: Pedro Tapa. Find him at http://pedrotapa.tumblr.com/

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Our Definition of Love – With a Sprinkle of Cinematic Magic

I should point out that this post is entirely inspired by my most recent film session during which I sobbed and begged, hoping the pixel characters portrayed before me would hear my cries of empathetic demands. Mind you, I had only their best interests at heart. After all, they were in love, and I was the only one seemingly determined to console them both. I experience these moments during a film, where my vulnerable and indisputably emotional state consumes me, as I advise the fictional characters of the film to act upon the secretive thoughts and sentiments they keep so obviously hidden. Indeed, I had a profound connection with this film, unlike any other I am sure – and for that, there is good reason. Love, Rosie is perhaps one of the most vivid, inspiring, and heart clenching romances that has ever been projected on both screen and print. Never had a film, categorised within the fantasy fable genre of romance, been so remarkably relevant, engaging and thereby, contradictory.  It was unlike any other film of its nature, juxtaposed through the exploration of such realistic quarrels with life, and amusingly, the people you love.

The moral compass and values of this film speaks not only of strife, spontaneity, and superbly sweet friendships, but of a love that survived, and bloomed beyond the boundaries of time itself. Often, it is unclear to us as human beings that time is not our friend, nor our enemy. When used wisely and fearlessly without shame or precaution, it is embraced fully and correctly, evolving into an advantage and the very gateway to adventure. You need not an excuse, nor a reason, but a single opportunity to grasp your fate. In Love, Rosie, it explores the lives of two life-long friends and destined soulmates, awaiting an opportunity they already possessed and senselessly stowed away for years. Though their emotional expedition was terribly coarse, challenging, and impossible, it was undefinably moving, spirited, and hilariously enlightening from start to finish. Through the perspective of myself, and gradually their own, it was undeniably clear that their journey became the very vision and definition of their love. This very lesson was the focal construct of the film, and the very heart of this piece. Though Love, Rosie was the heart-warming exception, most romance films tell lies that women, and at times men, use as a guideline for the perfect partner selection.  If above all things, you desire a magical and unfailing love, much like that of cinematic creation, I completely and wholeheartedly understand, as I too dream of such fairy-tale finishes. Truly I ask you, who does not? However, I already possess a very unconditional, gentle, and steadfast love, in my own definition of the word.

Love is defined by those who share in it, those whom create it, and envision it for themselves. It is your own story to write, narrate and bind as you see fit, with the one your heart belongs to. Thus, you define love, in your own time, through your own ideals, and by your own terms. No man or woman can be compared and contrasted to the characters of a film or book, therefore, nor can a love story. I often find myself watching romance films and immediately pondering my own relationship. I would then call my boyfriend, ask some ridiculously dramatised questions about his feelings for me – that I already know the answers to, after which I would assert my own sentiments, and then apologise for my teary outburst and embarrassing enquiries. This is the typical mindless yet amusing routine I conduct after a late night romance viewing. Truly, I hope you appreciate my casual honesty and can somehow relate to my ways. I am almost certain several women and men endure the same strife, losing sight of what is real, and focusing on what is not. Yes, this is easy to do, and of course, understandable. Nonetheless, we must always redirect our focus onto that which matters most and put to practice our gratitude.

I am absolutely the luckiest girl in the world because of Jamie, the man of my dreams, whom professes his love for me daily, in accordance to his own format. There is nothing more rewarding than this. Though he is quiet and speaks few words, those few are blissful and powerful in everything they represent. Never underestimate or take for granted the love you have, or the man or woman that dedicates their life to showing you what love is and can be. We are all different, speak in foreign tongues, dress in various styles, and possess an entirely unique spirit and internal anatomy that dictates our course, and most importantly, our love story. You need not a personal replica of the handsome jester Jack from the Titanic or the ambitious and admirable Sophie from Letters to Juliet to truly be happy. The love you need and truly desire might be right before you, but to adopt unrealistic expectation is to turn a blind eye to your astonishing reality. Therefore, I encourage you to define your own love story, be it with or without a sprinkle of cinematic magic. As long as your love story is of your own devise, and is shared with your fateful other, unconditionally and intimately, time is but a virtue and opportunity is nigh.

All my love,

Jean-Mari Vos

Illustration retrieved from: http://favim.com/image/4200895/

[thefoxintheflowercrown]

Hey Jean-Mari I love your blog 💕 just want do know your opinion on the hit series on Netflix 13 Reasons Why, thanks xoxo

Hey! :) Thank you so much! Very kind of you to say. I have never seen the show, nor have I had an interest in watching it (not that it seems like a bad show or anything). I have heard however that the show is very contradictory and at times, more encouraging of mental health issues rather than spreading a message that aims to eradicate or create awareness of self-harm issues. That is why I suppose I have steered clear from the show. Nonetheless, I am sure it has several good qualities as a show as it is very popular and receives a great deal of praise. :) I truly do appreciate you valuing my opinion on the matter. Much love! 

[thefoxintheflowercrown]

Something Beautiful and Beloved

I say this as if though I only realised it moments ago, as if this revelation was one that only struck on a recent occasion and yet, I have always known and treasured this truth. Perhaps the greatest gift in life, one often taken for granted and abused, is a sibling and in my case, a sister. Li-Anne Vos, born January 7th in 2002, is the very bundle of beauty that came but four years after myself. Despite my inability to remember the day of her becoming, my family never fails to remind me of my terribly foul attitude towards the remarkable new born that stole my limelight and the hearts of those I always cherished most. Indeed, I had an undeniable distrust of this conspiratorial criminal that stole the affections of my parents. After all, I was solely entitled to those affections – or so I thought as a mere four-year-old. Nevertheless, the moment finally came when my parents entrusted me with her safekeeping, allowing me to hold her for the very first time. This was undoubtedly the moment of my turnaround, as it was the first time I smiled in a photo since her arrival. Needless to say, I am glad she remembers not a single detail of that day, for I look back at it with slight shame but a great deal of delight.

I could barely believe the Lord had presented a sibling of such an opposing nature and appearance when compared to my own. Her abysmal blue eyes, feathered brown hair and ivory skin had no resemblance to my native olive skin, beady brown eyes and waved hair. Therefore, one can understand our confusion and disapproval when strangers claim we appear identical– some even dare say twins. It is a profoundly senseless notion. Li-Anne was everything I was not and though this fact was often tormenting, I learned that there was no grander coincidence. Then again, a coincidence is merely a man-made façade, worn so admirably by our destiny. Li-Anne was brought into my life for a reason and each day, this reason becomes more apparent. There are late afternoons where we slip out the photo albums from their wooden shelves and relive our memories as innocent companions. Those are the days I adore most. In every photo, she is by my side, a look of both pure joy and absence accentuated on her face as we dance, play and pose for the camera. Evident in each pictured memory, she was and still is the emblem of my exhilaration and the solution to one of life’s many equations.  The exceptional, yet limitless and binding companionship that is sisterhood. 

Today, I am a nineteen-year-old student, often aching with a lack of motivation for study, but consumed by an endless desire to do as I please in a world of unfathomable opportunities and digital distractions. Alas, I still have a year, and thankfully only a year left of study. My room is my sanctuary, a place where I confide in my hobbies and conduct my studies. Despite it being a personal space, more often than not it is shared by two. Whenever at home, Li-Anne is always on my bed, even if the room is bleak and in silence. She amuses herself with music, movies and on occasion, her school work. Often my emotions are expended and I no longer have the will to carry on, be it with a business assessment or a difficult level in a video game. Nevertheless, Li-Anne is unquestionably prepared to give me a pep talk that has no factual basis, but every ounce of soul and promise to motivate and inspire my benumbed brain. These late afternoons we spend together often fade away without a single word spoken between us. This is typically my own doing. Then there are blissful evenings of babbling in bed, our hearts filled with stories we insist the other must hear. Those are our cherished moments, the moments where we seek refuge in one another and share our dearest secrets of trials and tribulations, successes and misfortunes. Unfortunately, these moments can often end in conflict, a pointless argument composed by chance and complete accident. Walking away from one another is difficult and often times impossible. Thus, we would rather swallow our pride and admit our faults to make peace and continue our silly conversations of boys, beauty and distant dreams. After all, no fight is worth the anguish and uneasy silence that follows an argument between two women. Luckily, Li-Anne and I know this very well. 

Now a fifteen-year-old teen with emerald eyes and an olive complexion that could easily capture the heart of any man, Li-Anne is like a wildflower that never ceases to thrive, even in seasonal change and storms of strife. I know in the back of her mind she often believes me to be disappointed or displeased with her actions and the woman she has become. This could not be further from the truth. Li-Anne is a devoted, fearless and headstrong woman of God. She is the very pinnacle of strength in troubled times, she is the very rock I lean upon. She hid her tears in the divorce of my parents to force a smile when mine was entirely unredeemable. She translates my silence and false contentment into true feelings of anxiety and stress, after which she pulls me in for a dance to our favourite girl power ballads. In every way, she is her own person and because of that, I could not be more proud. Regardless of what the world says or deems beautiful, the soul of a sister completely overpowers these notions, depicting the ideal woman as one of individuality and power. Li-Anne, you need not be anything but yourself, for you are gifted and loved for being unapologetically unique, fearless and wonderful. Though I failed to tell you this on the very first day I beheld you, you are something beautiful and beloved beyond measure and without condition. To my readers, I encourage you to acknowledge your love and admiration for your own sister or brother, and let them know. For you may not have a tomorrow, and today is as good a day as any.

All my love,

Jean-Mari Vos

Illustration by: Debi Hasky. Find her at http://debihasky.tumblr.com/

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Hairy Legs & Helpless Habits

It's true what they say – It’s painful to be beautiful. As a kid, that to me seemed so absurd, the idea that one would go through physical pain to be visually appealing. For those of you who aren’t familiar with the story of Cinderella, the original, very raw and controversial version told the tale of two demonic and desperate damsels that tormented their step sister because of her beauty and pure goodness. They were set on stealing the crown and exchanging their vows with a prince, incapable of telling the difference between one maiden and another. One cut her heel and another, her toe to fit in the glass slipper, belonging to the destined queen of some yonder kingdom we are yet to stumble upon. It was entirely bizarre to me, imagining a woman squeeze her unusually large foot into a glass slipper, let alone recklessly reshape it for an opportunity that was possible only through self-denial. Time and time again, scholar authors have explored this intriguing pair of poisonous pretties that so willingly snipped their gifted features for a promised romance, fixed on false fantasies. Was it truly what they wanted or were they forced into such atrocious arrangements to better benefit another – their malicious mother? We have a choice, to be who we want to be, and come as we are before others. For me, that means dressing in what I wish and perhaps, skipping shaving season every now and then.

In many ways, the fairy tales embroidered on the pages of that picturesque book, to which you so cherishingly cleaved as a child, tells of a world better than ours. Home to careless and compassionate creatures, these utopias of forgiveness and happy endings are enthralling representations of the peaceful, pure world of perfection we praise. The princesses of these tales never wax their upper lip, trim their brows or swab their ears in search of hidden gold. On the contrary, they are perfectly presentable all the time. We are so endlessly inspired by their impeccable beauty, at times, we fail to recognise our own. We fail to acknowledge and refute against the unnecessary regulations of our world and therefore, we miss the bigger picture. I am certain that the Beast would have been even more enticed by Belle the beauty if she was flaunting leg stubble to compliment that gleaming golden gown of hers. If he didn’t, well, he certainly would need more than a pot of hot wax and a razor to rid him of his lush exterior. Thank God my boyfriend has little care for such mild imperfections, for I pay little attention to such variables and I encourage you to do the same.

No, I am certainly not a hippy, nor an extremist feminist. I believe a woman should ignore the helpless habits of society if she wishes to be everything she is destined, or better yet, designed to be. Whether you shave your legs or not, whether you wash your hair daily or once every fortnight, whether you shape your brows or allow them to thrive naturally – It matters not, for the world is ever evolving and so is the standards under which we are conducted. What matters is that you defy the prospects you wish to outlive and be rid of in your own life. You are but a flower in an orchid of ominous conformity. To grow and to flourish, be steadfast in your ideals, understand the difference between looking presentable and being obsessed with the image of perfection. Find consolidation in your helpless habits, be that wearing a longer dress to cover your leg fur, or styling your hair lower to cover the obnoxious neck zit you woke with. Be content with who you are and groom accordingly. After all, the look on people’s faces when you strut your stuff in a mini skirt with self-grown leg warmers is pure bliss and very much worth the endeavour. Trust me. 

Illustration by: Debi Hasky. Find her at http://debihasky.tumblr.com/

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Flower Crown Coronation

Early Testament of My Fashion Failures

My personality has gone through some drastic changes over the years. When I was 11 years old (yes, 11)  I endured this stage where I believed myself to be a generic Goth, adorning myself in cracked skull earrings, the most miserable mix up of black and grey t-shirts and murky lipstick shades. I spoke with an agonisingly low tone that I believed to be the key to Goth vocals. In saying this, I mean no offence to any Goths out there. I wholeheartedly respect you and your diverse means in dress and culture. Truth is, I had no idea what a Goth was or what they stood for, and I am sure I have made that rather clear. Till this day, I cannot claim to be an expert in the world of heavy black accessories and absurd heeled boots. I was a child, seeking to identify with something different, desiring to be acknowledged as an individual. You could say I endeavoured to dip my finger in every paint pot, hoping to develop a unique shade that would fit me. We all endure such experimental phases in our lives, where our means of dress, our mannerism and our outlooks change, as we search for our mould. For some, that change is permanent, for me it was temporary. Thank the heavens.

Following on from this rather embarrassing persona I so confidently believed I perfected, I branched into other phases and clusters of people. From cringe worthy crocs and cake faced makeup, to wearing the Veronicas line from Target with thick black eyeliner on both the top and bottom of my lids. You could say I was a real trend setter, perhaps the first volume of a hipster trilogy that lasted for what felt like an eternity. I continued to progress through my expedition of discovery, realising band t-shirts, skinny jeans and converse just aren’t my fantasy fondue, and that I look horrendous in bodycon dresses, polo shirts and the colour purple.

The New Testament of My Fashion Feat

In year 11 and 12 of High School, more specifically my final year, I received a revelation. This long awaited self-discovery soared into my life like a fairytale godmother, hooked on saving me from my perilous puberty phases. She was well overdue, no doubt. She introduced me to the wild and wondrous world of Anime, alongside the remarkably vast blogosphere of fashion, the finery of feminine floral fabrics and vivid prints, the timeless elegance and splendour of vintage dress, and finally, the writings of Jane Austen and its consistent depiction of a woman’s purpose. These elements, although immeasurably unrelated to one another, united together to form my heavenly halo, my flower crown. The flower crown is almost symbolic in my becoming and, what I sincerely believe to be the blossoming of a woman. It was the emblem of my evolution. The flower crown marked the period in which my true self surfaced and began to bloom. 

Although I will always be persistent in exploring the diverse cosmos of fashion and lifestyle, I’ve found my place and instilled my roots. In discovering who I am and where my passions lie, I have come to dress accordingly. I take pride in the way I dress although I have no desire to aim for perfection. I care not for trends or the current statement enunciated by the fashion industry on both a national and international scale. I recognise these trends as I study fashion at university level. However, I do so for the opportunity to be apart of an industry that will one day thrive and empower, rather than regulate and scrutinise size and shape in both men and women. I dress according to my passions, for the purpose of comfort and confidence. I do not believe the world recognises just how important dress is. Not to be dressed in a way that mirrors the idealistic and often impractical trends of fashion, but to be dressed in a way that softens your soul, giving you this priceless sense of security and balance you cannot hope to obtain in any other sphere of life. Fashion and dress is a distinct and engaging language of intimacy exchanged with the self to awaken true identity. Dress to love yourself and not to be loved. Then and only then, will you be crowned in ceremony with your floral crest.

All my love, 

Jean-Mari Vos

[thefoxintheflowercrown]

Found by the Fox

I was not always a reader, nor a writer. But in grade nine, my life forever changed by this ever-growing desire to seek out and establish a purpose for myself. I began to indulge in all sorts of literature, amusing myself with my own poetry, and reading the lines I wrote aloud and undoubtedly proud. Before long, I wrote a novel (a fan fiction, regrettably but a good one at that) which entirely changed my perspective on the world of creative writing, so much so I wished to pursue a career in it. Nonetheless, this was many years ago now. At present, I am in my second year of university, studying elements of business and majoring in fashion, as this is where my true passion lies. How times change and yet here I find myself, yearning for the opportunity to write once more. What can I say? Writing truly is a sole passion of mine that I cannot shake.

Last year, mid-2016, my dearest friend Nikita encouraged, or shall I say, demanded me to explore the magical wizarding world of the finest wand whirler ever known to fiction - Harry Potter. Oh my, what a turn around this was and may I say, I am forever indebted to her. I went from a state of pure frivolity in the matter to unfathomable fascination. Ultimately, I had to know where I stood in such a wondrous cosmos of Butter Beer and Broomsticks. Unfortunately, the Sorting Hat was of no service to me, so a website known as Pottermore was my next ideal route of self-discovery. 

One could say the whimsical tests of this website was the most important I would ever partake in, for it forecasted my fate and sealed my evolution from Muggle to Magical Mermaid - or witch, whichever came first. My patronus was revealed to be none other than the fox, an intelligent, intrinsic and independent creature that I felt so dear to my heart. As my Afrikaans surname ‘Vos’ directly translates to ‘Fox’, I felt this to be a fine fit and definitely no coincidence. The fox symbolises the very courage I wish to possess and the brilliant mind I wish to obtain. Its crisp warm coat of wild orange and ocher has this unexplainable connection to my admiration of vibrant colour, the essence of nature and the feeling of the Australian sun pecking my flustered cheeks in Spring. The fox represents the vivacious and inspired spirit of my writing, seeking to encapsulate the pure simplicity and raw quiddity from the world I live in and so assuredly admire.

In my next entry, the flower crown of the fox will be explained. It will be the coronation of this blog and the final aspect of my greeting to you before we share this stupendous and spectacular journey together. Goodbye for now my dears.

All my love,

Jean-Mari Vos