Finally, I got my share of a cliché by having a picture taken in a field of yellow flowers. Cliché, I know, but I really wanted to do it.
Photo credit: Mr. O, taken last week while we climbed the ridge. 😀
I told him he had to do it, I twisted his arm, set the camera on aperture priority, instructed him about the aiming angles, and had him snap some photos for me. Crazy wife!
My skin is not as youthful as it looks. I did some skin retouching by blending skin color to even out the tone, and left the texture as it is with all the aging flaws. Now that I am 40, I sometimes regret that I did not take a good care of my skin when I was younger. I did not neglect it, but neither did I pay more attention than it desperately needed. Most of my skincare products are from drugstores, and I use Olay moisturizer since I was 18. I have large pores, and super dry flaky skin, with acne scars scattered all over the cheeks; it’s a challenge to wear make up and I don’t have the skills in cosmetic art either.
Last week I went into Sephora and asked a consultant to teach me how to draw my waning and uneven eye brows; she taught me a few tricks but somehow I looked awkward and not myself so I end up leaving it with all the flaws it has. But before I walked out I purchased an eye brow pencil and a brush. Hmm, I wonder when I will use them.
Alright, that’s it for this installment of being a self-critic. I was talking about the field of yellow flowers…and digressed!