London

Arriving at Heathrow airport/shopping mall was like a punch in the gut. A concentrated dose of everything I am about to leave behind, it took me by surprise with its cleanliness, efficiency and countless cosmetic counters. The other thing that took me by surprise was my reaction to watching M.A.C. employees give make-up lessons and makeovers:

"That should be me." "I'm nuts for leaving all this behind."
"I'm good at what I do. I should stay and concentrate on building my portfolio."

For a brief moment, I looked around with envy at the twenty somethings grabbing perfume samples and wished I could stay. The beauty industry was my scene and I felt a definite amount of pride telling people I was a make-up artist. Then I remembered what it was actually like to be a part of it: exhausting. It's a game that never ends. Trends change and there is always something new. It's impossible to keep up with and there is always someone to compete with.
I'm still passionate about this industry, but how I involve myself in it is changing. Instead of using my skills and talents to build myself up and gain the praise of my peers, I'm asking God to show me how He wants me to use the talent He gave me. Answers await me, and in the mean time I plan to find a way to turn that red African dirt into the perfect rouge.