Hollywood. Vine Street. Sunset Boulevard. And Everything In Between. · · · フリー・フォーリンへの呼び出し Furī Fōrin e no Yobidashi (The Call to Free Fallin') I got a page from my agent, and the second I saw the number, I knew I had to pull over. This was before cell phones, so I found the nearest payphone, dug through my purse for quarters, and fed them into the slot. My agent answered and said: "You have an audition for an MTV music video. Directed by Julien Temple. For Tom Petty." My heart exploded. I knew exactly who Julien Temple was — he was my favorite director because of Earth Girls Are Easy with Jeff Goldblum and Geena Davis. The moment my agent said his name, I felt the electricity go through my body. I couldn't believe I had a callback for him. Then my agent said the magic words: “Dress 50s.” I didn’t even say goodbye. I hung up the phone, ran back to my car, and — in true Cristal fashion — jumped straight into my convertible without opening the door. I was too excited for that. Who has time for doors when Julien Temple is waiting? I tore down the road straight to Contempo Casuals, one of my all-time favorite stores in the mall. They don’t have Contempo anymore — which is tragic — because back then it was the place to be for cute, affordable outfits. I knew exactly what I needed: a whole 50s look, head to toe. I remember picking everything out in a rush — the hat, the shorts, the top, the gloves, the jewelry — and it was all only about $40. And honestly? Back then, $40 felt like a lot of money… but for Julien Temple? Worth every penny. I walked out of Contempo Casuals feeling like a character straight out of a 1950s postcard… and ready for whatever Hollywood had waiting for me. · · · キャスティングの知らせ Kyasutingu no Shirase (The Call Back After the Callback) After leaving Julien Temple’s office, I was floating. I didn’t walk out — I glided out, still hearing his voice in my head, still feeling that electric moment when a director sees you. I was halfway home, driving along Mulholland, when suddenly my pager went off. I looked down at the number and my heart dropped into my stomach.

· · · Tokyo modeling was a machine — and I became one of its gears. People think modeling in Japan is glamorous, but they don't understand the schedule, the grind, the exhaustion, the running, the subway transfers, the bicycles, the van rides, the heat, the humidity, the snow, the endless outfits stuffed in a bag, the composite cards, the smiles, the “arigato gozaimasu,” the bowing, the waiting rooms, the hallways filled with girls from every country in the world. Nine auditions a day. Every day. And then — seven days of work. That was the rhythm of my life. One day of running around the city for castings… and then a full week of jobs because I booked almost everything I went out for. It wasn't arrogance — it was reality. I was extremely popular there. The clients loved my look. My energy. My expressions. My reliability. My timing. My professionalism — even at fourteen, fifteen, sixteen. I was the girl they kept calling back. Seven out of nine jobs? Sometimes eight. Sometimes all nine. Tokyo was a city that tried to break most girls — but it built me. I thrived in it. And the wildest part? The last three years I spent in Japan… I didn't even have to do auditions anymore. I would land in Tokyo, walk into the agency, and within hours the phone was already ringing off the hook with bookings. No castings. No competition. No waiting rooms. No swimsuit-in-a-lobby moments. I would just roll into town, work nonstop, and roll right back out. That's how strong my name was. That's how wanted I was. That's how much Japan loved Kuri-chan. But before I got to that level, before I became the girl who didn't need castings anymore… there was one audition — one casting among the nine-a-day madness — that changed everything. The Okinawa job. And I remember every second of it. · · · Nine Auditions a Day Nine auditions a day meant exactly that — nine full hours of moving, waiting, and showing up. One audition every hour. We would step off the subway, climb the stairs into the daylight, and walk straight toward the office building, which was usually close to the station. Tokyo was efficient like that. Everything was timed, organized, and expected to run like clockwork. Sometimes the building was only a block away. Sometimes two. Four blocks felt like a marathon, especially in heels.

She just knew she was meant for something bigger than the room she was standing in. This is me — painting her. My younger self. The girl who stood in the Malibu sun and launched an international modeling career from a single photograph. She became my passport to Tokyo. She became my reason. She became the fire behind everything I've built. And now I sit across from her with 30 years of Hollywood behind me — brushes, cameras, film rolls, a lifetime of images scattered across the table — and I paint her the only way I know how. With light. With intention. With love. I didn't become a photographer by accident. I became one because I know what one great image can do to a life. It can open every door. Now I spend my days doing for others what Ken Miyagishima did for me in Malibu all those years ago — capturing the version of you that YOU haven't seen yet. From your home. In 30 minutes. Anywhere in the world. My younger self lit the path. My future self is walking it — toward $10,000 months, global clients, and a legacy built one headshot at a time. What would YOU say to your younger self today? 👇 Tell me below. I genuinely want to know. — Cristal Photography. Transformation. Confidence. #Through a Mothers Len of Protection

I’m the author who survived the life everyone thought was glamorous. I’m the author who knows what it feels like to chase dreams, lose your way, and wonder if you’ll ever find yourself again.I’m the author who has lived through addiction, fear, broken relationships, and moments when everything felt uncertain — but kept going anyway. My ideal reader is someone who looks strong on the outside but feels tired, overwhelmed, or invisible on the inside.Someone who has made mistakes, faced setbacks, or carried shame they don’t talk about.Someone who is searching for hope, direction, and a reminder that their story is not over. I’ve been there.I’ve lived through seasons where survival was the only goal.I know what it’s like to feel lost and still keep moving forward. That’s why I wrote my book. I wrote it for the woman who feels like she’s starting over.For the dreamer who thinks it’s too late.For the person who needs proof that resilience is real and that healing is possible. My story isn’t about perfection. It is about perseverance and it is about faith, second chances, and finding your way back to yourself. That’s the author I am.

This book exists because no one told the real story about what it costs to chase a dream — and what it takes to survive it. For years, people saw the pictures, the modeling, the travel, the lights, and the glamour.But they didn’t see the fear, the addiction, the homelessness, the broken relationships, or the moments when I didn’t know if I would make it through another day. There was a gap between the image and the truth.And I knew someone out there needed to hear the truth. I wrote this book because I wanted to give a voice to the girl who started modeling at 12, traveled the world, and somehow found her way back to faith, family, and purpose.I wrote it for the women who feel forgotten.For the dreamers who feel lost.For anyone who needs proof that survival is possible. This book isn’t about fame it’s about resilience ,about redemption and about telling the story that almost didn’t get told. That’s why this book exists.