Not A Fluke At All

Broken Echo

If I am going to view my life as a silent movie, it wouldn't be mostly a happy reel. A lot of the scenes would be lonely and depressing.

But if I am going to open my mind and take the time to really look at each scene, I realized the universe has been kind to me.

If I am going to count the achievements I hold dearest,

• consistent honor student from grade school to high school
• graduated with honors
• ranked third in the licensure examination for chemists
• sold a painting during the first exhibit I joined
• finding the love of my life (coming soon)

I realized that these are opportunities (except the last one, because it still has to happen) to grow. When call to mind, it should bring a proud beam on my face instead of a shy smile, downplaying my achievements. These actions are not acts of humility at all, but veiled ungratefulness.

What came to me each time someone recalls my achievements is that those moments are a fluke; that they are gifts from the gods I don't deserve. I think it's the right time to acknowledge to myself that I deserve them; that I am great at something. 

Fields

When two out of my three paintings were sold last month, I took it as an affirmation that the first painting I sold wasn't a fluke at all. Since I was a kid, I have been doing art: using up all my grade school pads for sketching, driving my mother nuts with all my chalk drawings on the walls and decorating the boards in my high school. I am really good at this. I am not a master (for it takes a lifetime to be that) but I know I have an opportunity here to grow, and I am going to see to it that I will.

Confining Chaos

This is the last abstract I made before 2013 ended. Just like any December of the past years, my mind took a dive into a chaos mode. My only resort is to confine, albeit poorly, the turmoil within.  Now that we are halfway of the first month of the new year, it is my fervent hope that I will be able to successfully soothe the little child within.

In Between

acrylic on 9" by 12" Canson watercolor paper

Fiery Mirage

acrylic on 9" by 12" Canson watercolor paper

Let me know your thoughts. Leave your comments below. Thanks.

Second Chances

There is a story behind this piece (well, a lot of my pieces are). But this one is a classic example of if-it-doesn't-work-the-first-time-set-it-aside-and -get-back-to-it-later.

I started the green background a year ago. It was one of my attempts to create an abstract piece that appears more spontaneous and less structured. This was painted on a 12" by 18" Canson watercolor paper. However, I realized 30 minutes after, that the piece is not going to work. It lacked structure (what I'm attempting for in the first place) and direction as well. At some point, one part of the piece looked like a gay Lochness monster (no offense to the LGBT group). Since the work was going nowhere, the painting was set aside and waited until my mind finds clarity to decide on what to do next.

A year later, I revisited the painting. I cut the piece into two, figuring that each part can survive alone. A technique has been playing on my mind before the semestral break and I'd like to try it out. The portion which has the Lochness monster didn't survive. Surprisingly, the technique worked well on the other portion, which is the one above.

There are still other pieces waiting for my attention. I hope to get back to them one day and they will be given proper time under the sun, just like this abstract art I called Second Chances.

Timorous Faith

                            Medium: Acrylic

                            Paper:  9" by 12" Canson watercolor paper

I am interested what you think of this second abstract I made. Kindly leave your comments below. Thanks.

Dexter's Madness

Last September, one of my favorite TV series, Dexter, had just ended. Its ending may not appeal to everyone but it bears some rumination. For one, the famous TV serial killer didn't die and was not killed by lethal injection. Instead, he staged his own death to pave self-exile from the people he loves dearly. The absence of intrapersonal communication and hallucinations of Harry magnified the impact of his self-exile. These acts are his way of self-examination that prevents him from giving in fully to his dark passenger.

The audience would expectantly clamor for justice to be served. Death by lethal would be appropriate for Dexter. But death itself, is liberation.

Dexter chose the punishment he deserves; a desolate life fit for the dead. For a living person, that is worse than death.

As I dabble in abstract art, this piece, I called Dexter's Madness, is my tribute to the end of the famous TV serial killer.

Mental Shackles

So many times, we found ourselves shackled by our own fears,
immobilized by dread. The sword of Damocles is hanging above our head. A vitriolic decoction, we swallow the draft that make us see our lack of control.

We feel alone, helpless, like living inside a dank dungeon. No sunlight streaming in. No bright tomorrow to look forward to.

Yet, this terror is in the mind, a susurrant whisper that swells into a shout. It warps our thinking process and disables our motor coordination. If we can silence this, we enable ourselves to act and gain back the control on our lives.

In the process, we realize that the manacles that fettered us from acting is just a figment of our imagination and that all along, the manacles are corroded.

Uncertain

My piece called Inner Passion had generated interesting comments from people. They have seen a number of images out of an abstract piece. One said the piece looked like the sun while another said, it looked like a navel. My three good friends unanimously said, it reminded them of a woman's breast. (and no more on which particular part.) 

These comments inspired me to create another abstract piece. It took me the whole summer to finish this due to  work and other responsibilities. Interestingly, when I started taking its photos for this post, I realized that a variation in its layout may also evoke a different interpretation.

I planned to entitle this as Catharsis. Now, I am no longer certain what its name, as I am overwhelmed on which layout I like more. Maybe, this is the allure of abstract art that have drawn artists. I can now see the freedom it bestows. There is no exact ending. Each line takes you to a different dimension. Each brush stroke unveils a new part of you. 

For a control freak like me, it can be overwhelming but surprisingly, it can be liberating at the same time. 

_____________________________________________________________________

Now, I am very much interested on what you think about the piece. Don't worry, I have meager psychology background so I won't be psychoanalyzing your comments. It will be fun, reading your interpretation on the piece at the comment section.