the art i adore!!!
La Douleur Exquise IVLa Douleur Exquise IVLa Douleur Exquise IV by seikiunne11
Ritronello Pieno di Speranza
My senses wake up to weird things in an unknown environment. All over my skin I feel silky softness and warmth. My nose catches a faint smell of well roasted coffee beans, the chilly wind, and also a spike of paint. I hear faint noises of metal clatter somewhere a bit far from where I was, as if someone was putting a pan on a stove. What was I thinking? Where was I?
I tried to move my right hand to subconsciously fix my disheveled hair; it was a force of habit. But I couldn’t lift my arm, why did it seem too heavy? I tried moving my legs, and they too felt like a ton. I panicked and was about to open my eyes to see if I was having a bad dream or would I wake up in a hospital, when the sound of a turning doorknob made even more scared for my life.
With my eyes closed, I only hear faint footsteps and a light drag of a wooden chair. Someone was trying to sit by my bedside. I also smell something warm and d
Oh yes I'm real. |
I hardly post pictures of myself on other social sites because of privacy issues. I just want to share my craft (and NOT my face).
I'm half Filipina, half chinese
I'm already 27
I'm finishing my Linguistics degree
I used to teach college English (I hate teaching though)
I love writing and painting but I never studied art
I won my first international art contest when I was 13 years old
I love my mom and we travel a lot
I LOOOOOVEEEEE CATS!!!
(My friends say I look like a cat)
I guess it's too early for me to count my blessings for this year, and disappointments as well, but I feel this need to take a load out of my chest so I can focus on other matters. I started writing this type of blog ever since I had my first trip out of the country because it was the best time for me.
This year I've had wonderful and tragic moments as well; I've learned so much about life but still I feel it is never enough.
Beginning of the year was bombarded with distress of a very irresponsible cousin who got herself drunk and knocked out, and an unexpected loss of two uncles. Seeing children left in distress was eye-opening for me, as well as seeing young girls stupidly suffering from their irresponsibilities of their bodies. It made me realize how difficult being a parent was, nonetheless being a far off relative who seriously had nothing to do with them but had to be there because of social responsibilities.
If "family" was to be defined outside Filipino culture, then it would only be my mom and me. Sometimes I think it would be beneficial: every single damn thing has brought stress to my mother and got her sick. And hell do these people care. All they think about is themselves. Heaven forbid me of speaking ill words about them, but I'm not a blindsided kid anymore.
It also made me realize of my own future. I am at the age of considering marriage, family life, and that kind of grown-up stuff; I am now certain I am so not ready for any of it. Maybe I never will? Too early to say, I might eat my words. All my life I've been naive to the essence of a socially-standard family. I've never grown up to have a male figure in the household: no father, no grandfather, no brother. I guess I couldn't be blamed if I couldn't work and act smoothly with the opposite sex; it's either I'm too naive or I'm too stupid. Gladly there had never been any repercussions (after the age of 17) with regards to dealing with men.
I consider it an achievement for me to remain single and dateless for a year. Women never understood the essence of having time alone, for yourself only. I've had lots of alone time now and it has been wonderful; to spend the day reading or painting without being required to talk on the phone or on chat, to spend weekends at home because there's no required movie dates, to go home early after school because there's no required dinner dates, and to stay awake until four in the morning doing random stuff because I'm so free to do so. In the past years, relationships have pulled me down and out of my comfort zone. I did like the feeling of being in love, go on dates, cuddle and get into real seriously heated business. But it was all temporary satisfaction. I lost myself everytime and after ending each relationship, I had to build myself back, better than ever. It helped me in a way that I was never my old self; I had to change little things about myself in order to adapt and protect myself. It was all about control, not letting myself be stupid. And happily it has been effective for a year.
This year was full of unexpected events.
The month of May was the worst, it was my mom's health that was at stake. It is partly my fault, because I got so engrossed with myself and I somehow neglected her. I guess aging meant sensitivity as well. My mom and I could argue and debate freely for hours without feeling bad afterwards, but now things have changed. A little change in my tone and volume, meaning rushes in her mind and she'd tell me I'm being stubborn and disrespectful. It took me weeks to practice and maintain a low, mellow tone, specifically when I talk to her so as not to cause any problems. There was also this big change in diet and food preparation: no oil, no salt. I've been used to five years of not eating pork or beef after I've gone through an operation, but it was a big adjustment on not eating dinner. It was really tough, because anything I did eat or drink, she'd follow suit even if I remind her not to. I don't know if I'm being too sensitive as well, but I can't judge myself when I feel life is unfair to test me this way. I'd never forget that night I spent in the emergency room, praying hard in silence with tears flowing from my eyes nonstop. I was so dead alone. I had no one to comfort me or even tell me not to worry, or even someone give me tissue to wipe my ugly crying face. It was a slap on my face to feel so alone. Literally and figuratively alone, and miserably poor. I've had millions of what ifs running in my mind (it never helps to be a natural born pessimist). I wished I was rich and had my own car, so I could drive her fast to the most prestigious hospital in the city. I wished I knew how to give first aid, or even be a damn good doctor so I'd instantly know what was wrong with her. I wished I could play God for a day and cure her instantly. And all this because I so fear to hell being alone in this world. I used to say I am okay being alone at work or at school without the need to talk or interact with anyone. But it was a different matter to think about being alone at home, it's like my life would be good as to end with her. Love as an emotion would an understatement if I would tell about my attachment to her. I'm now learning to describe it as loyalty, undying service, and life itself, that is how I love her.
On a lighter note, backtracking a bit to the month of March, I've had a little taste of working as a professional researcher. It felt totally awesome, like I'm the coolest girl in the world. I packed my bags as if I was a soldier ready for war, but still packed light ready for action anytime. It was also the first time ever that I'd be away from my mom. Whenever she had work out of town, she would always bring me. It felt really weird the first day that I had to board a plane and be away from her physically. I did call her everyday, religiously, or sometimes several times a day just because I was happy to tell her stories: how big the crab was that we had for dinner, how I ate five pieces of shrimp even though I was allergic to it, and other simple stuff that people hardly take notice of. Looking back, it seems that God taught me the difference of life having her or being away from her, and also to the point of losing her. It was a roller coaster ride, but it taught me hard lessons on faith and trust.
And so! Going back! I had mountain heaps of expectations about the work and the trip. I had this heroic dream of doing change here and there, being a good influence, a model, or an example. I wanted to show little girls there was hope in education, that it could change their lives. In the end I felt heartbroken and stupid that I couldn't even change even a single person. Poverty was callous. I've had my fair share of poverty and I have often complained about it. I have also had my share of laziness and complacency about my status in life, like I was content of having and being nothing and just live everyday to sleep, eat, study, work, and breathe. I felt so nostalgic about everything: the feeling of idealism and positivity, it was a big lie. How could you want or even be motivated to study if you can't even eat a meal for a day? How can you afford to waste time on books when you see your parents breaking their spines in the fields. Even I, in that situation, would burn books so I could keep my family warm with the flame. It hurt me deeply to be openly experiencing such kind of helplessness. And to discover the roots of it? To interview and face politicians and government employees who had numerous gold jewerly, oh God you can never imagine what kind of mutilation I had in mind. One gold ring could feed that family for a year. And here you are people, all complaining about how low the budget is?
Being a taxpayer didn't even help at all. I pay taxes that could feed a family for a month, and here it's being wasted for frivolous parties and events. It sickened me to the core, and merely on the third day at field work made me feel like a robot that has lost it's sense of passion and integrity. I still wish I could go back there and help; there's this really weather-beaten Day Care center with a passionate teacher who wanted to encourage students to start reading and writing there, so they could have hope. I was sick that day but I pushed the people around me to go there and have a look at the place. It was beautiful as heaven, with the sky at hand's reach. I hope someone would reach that place too and help, in the light that maybe one or two kids would be professionals someday and lift themselves and their family from poverty.
I guess I dream too much.
After what happened to my mom, I got really desperate to have work, or at least earn money. Earlier this year I got a really pleasant surprise; I don't consider it as a payoff for my artworks, but as a very special gift. And I used that to take painting seriously, to the point I was able to sell quality works at a decent sum of money. It felt wonderful at the beginning, feeling that I was a real deal painting getting her first major deal. I felt like a professional, having that artists' pride was something to list on my book of accomplishments. After sending my first three paintings off, I suddenly had this hollow pang that hit me hard. As if I was parted from something so precious to me and that I was never getting to see them ever again. I had to think and remember the promise I made, I'd do anything and everything in my hands for my mom's sake. And never will I be selfish if it is between her and my passion. I'd give up my right hand for her.
I bet many people have complained that I was being too selfish in not giving them one of my works, or I couldn't sell them at a dead cheap price. I never say a word about their reactions, and never will they hear anything from me. I'd like to satisfy myself with the disdain of people who never will understand the meaning of sacrifice.
Another recent achievement was when another two works have gone away from me, and are now in Baumholder, Germany. Although I didn't earn anything significant, still, it's charge to experience. And considering it was a friend whom I owe a little something, I guess it wouldn't hurt much to pay back the emotional investments she has favored me in the past. I doubt she remembers those times. I guess I'm just too sentimental that I hardly forget important people, and pay back when I can.
The last and the most wonderful thing that has ever happened to me was a dream come true: I have had my first ever exhibit! Honestly I hardly believe in myself, and in what I could do. All that I am sure of, is that anything I do, I pour my heart in it. No hesitations and no holding back, I have passion in writing as well as in painting. I never considered myself as a professional, I don't even label myself anymore (like I used to when I was younger). What professional meant to me was education and experience, and I both lack that in terms of art. For this to become possible, was a dream I never imagined. I did wish years ago to have my own exhibit, and it is an answered prayer to have done so.
And now that the exhibition has ended, it left a gaping hole in me. As I said, I am a pessimist. So what happens now? Whats next? What should I do? What should I not do? I feel lost, like hanging in midair anticipating for something good, or just someone to pull me from the clouds of dreams that are unlikely to come true anytime soon. Since the exhibit started, I seem to forgot how to paint. I couldn't do anything properly as much as I wished. I couldn't even compose a single story and staying up to finish it.
My creativity has fled for me for the moment. Maybe it's the responsibility weighing on me. Or I'm just having my midlife crisis now, as early as now, so I'd be prepared in the next coming years and I won't be a miserable 30 year old woman moping around because I've had my successes early and I ran out of them eventually. Maybe because I was wishing to be an actual artists, to live and breathe painting, that has had me stuck at this blank state for several days already.
That is the real reason why I wanted to write everything out, so that whatever frustrations I had in me would end tonight as I sleep. And when I wake up tomorrow, I hope to heaven I can be back to my usual self - the student who is desperate to graduate and needs a full time, regular job, that pays well so my mom could retire already. I don't know if other people would feel this kind of self-dilemma. Maybe that's why I've always written about not being able to be myself. I guess this is the last thread of selfishness I have in me, I have a passion I could not show or do, because I have a life to live and I am not alone in it. It is my constant prayer though that things would be good for me.
No more surprises and tests Lord, please? I'd like a silent life, so I can really do what I need to do. I thank you wholeheartedly for the blessings You so showered me, and also for the tests that You helped me pass. If it has to be my dream that I should give up, okay, I would oblige. I surrender. I won't fail anymore, never will I falter. I won't struggle against the flow of fate and life. It has been easy to sacrifice my heart and love for someone who will never be mine, it's as easy as a heartbeat. But to sacrifice something that you are passionate about, is like giving up your own air so another could survive. And if it's the sacrifice I must to for my mom, like I said, I'd give up anything for her. Thank You though for letting me experience it all first, before taking the experiences away.
Life indeed is painfully wonderful.