If My Shoes Were Ink, They Would Look Like This

Some people wear their stories on their skin. Others wear them on their feet. Some do both...

Not every mark has to be permanent to mean something. Not every decision needs to last forever to be real.

If I were inked, it would look like this. A burst of wave and wind across the canvas. A flash of cherry blossoms. A slice of desert sun wrapped in color. It would not be small or polite. It would be something you notice without needing to understand.

That is what a print can be. A moment. A feeling. A season of your life caught in fabric. You put it on and you remember something you almost forgot. You step into the day and you are quietly reminded of who you are. Or who you are becoming.

Prints are not decoration. They are intention.

Some people ask if I choose them for the colors. For the vibe. For the match. I do not. I choose them because something in the pattern speaks before I do. And on days when I do not have the words, that matters.

You do not need a needle to mark yourself. Sometimes canvas is enough.

Because you are still telling the truth. You are still choosing it. And you are still carrying it with you. One step at a time.

That is the print I wear.

That is what it means to me.