Moving Forward

The last few weeks have been about moving forward. My parents had decided to settle back in GenSan. I finally broke my stubbornness and have decided to live my life without a human crutch.

It's time to look at life with a fresh perspective.

This time, my life will be grounded in reality. My depression will still recur. Nightmares will still haunt my sleep. Torrents of unwelcome news will still land on my feet. There will be bad days. But I know I will be able to take them in stride.

The past years have taught me one valuable lesson and that, we all walk in life alone. It doesn't mean we don't have a loving family or supportive friends. We all have, one way or another. But like any periodical exam, we have to stand against our demons alone. That way, we can fully fathom the extent of our courage and strength.

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.

An Omen to Behold

This happened many months ago, before the summer of 2014. I came home from work, exhausted. I lied down to rest and this caught my attention.

In my old room, I mounted my paintings on the wall, purely to enjoy looking at the fruits of my creativity. It was that fateful afternoon, when a light from a setting sun strayed into the blinds and to my artwork, A Phantom in my Slumber.

I considered this as an omen. 

From that day on, I promised myself never to wander away from my artistic pursuit. You see, I always say I'll finish my Master's first, or write my report, prepare an exam, or let my depression run me over. Lately, or for the last year, these pursuits have exhausted me. Each day, I told myself, this isn't the right time.

There is one thing I realized after all these years. The right time is not somewhere in the future. The right time is now. If I don't act on my dreams now, life will just pass me by like an old silent movie. I'll get old and sadly wondered how it feels to follow another avenue of dreams. 

From that day on, I started painting again. Months later, I made several abstract pieces and three of which are up for sale. As of this writing, one piece has been sold, and another has been reserved and being prepared for shipment.

I know the coming months will be exhaustive. Choices would have to be made. And there will be times, I'll fall off the wagon. But I know, I can dust myself down and get back on again. 

For now, I'm just glad I am starting to live my life. 

Worm's Eye View

When I hit rock bottom, I had an epiphany about friendship; that it is a relationship built on trust and earned not by a click on the mouse, as in Facebook. True friends may force you to see your mistakes yet, they stick around, even if you are being a sniveling pain in the ass. Most importantly, friends administer tough love in a kind and compassionate way, and not by an acerbic tongue.

It is ironic that I only understand the facets of friendship when I was at the lowest point of my life. Perhaps, from my view on the ground, I had a sneak peek on a person's mind. But, I'd like to think that someone has pointed me the reflection of the sky, that there's no other way for me but up.

And that someone are my best friends.

Pulling Myself Up

My life has taken me into a different direction the past years. I can say I had reached rock bottom a few times. Much as I'd like to say I have hit the ground running, I know I mostly crashed and burnt. Since I led a very private life, not many have known. And I'd like to keep it that way.

There are two things I learned from that plunge. One, it is very much tempting to stay at the bottom, to succumb to self-pity and self-loathing. Two, there is always a light beyond the web of negativity.

Even if it is merely a flicker, it is enough of a beacon to guide me through, out of my misery.

A Hand in the Dark

Not all hands that reach out in the dark are out to help. Some will pull you down lower than you have been while some will take advantage of your vulnerability. It is up to the person to wade through the web of misery to discern which hand to take. Mostly, this is also the time when a person realized her reason of existence.

Art Affirmation

We all need affirmations; positive declarations from family and friends. If I'll be scientific about these, affirmations are like catalysts, providing us another perspective so we can make decisions over something we are ambivalent about, muster convictions over a choice we made or simply propel ourselves out of our gloomy nook and into the light of day.

 My life is like a roller-coaster ride that I often find myself overwhelmed and dreading the next turn. I also need my own dose of affirmations. But I cannot rely solely on my family and friends for each dose. I need to have my own source; that when the coaster makes the upturn climb, I have something to hold onto as it takes another breathtaking plunge.

Now as I turned into another year, I am grateful that my art provides me this much-needed affirmation and a reminder at the same time, that I may have failed at some point in my life but I'd never be a one-trick pony.

And now let me share an affirmation I learned from my favorite TV series Sex and the City:

Happy birthday.

Gash from the Past

Each time I see a little child crying or throwing a tantrum, I often wonder what he/she turns out into after 10 years or so.When a mother humiliates her child in public physically or verbally, it gives me a sense of foreboding of what a parent this child will become.

I grew up fast. I was still a kindergarten but I know a boy can fall in love with a girl. I understand that a girl has to maintain a sense of propriety and a boy should not cross such boundary. My high school friends (and I have only a few) would often ask me what college is about when I haven't been there myself, just like them. I always have this air of maturity beyond my age, accompanied by a sense of weirdness and aloofness.

Oftentimes, I found myself outside looking in, that I decided to venture into a journey of self-instrospection. In this journey, I came across a lot of books and one of these is written by a clinical psychologist Oliver James entitled They F*** You Up How to Survive Family Life. It detailed, complete with examples, how a damaged childhood can affect the behavior and perspective of an adult. The younger the child endured an abuse, the more difficult a child can recover from such that he/she tends to repress the emotional pains. However, like an overflowing dam, the repressed emotions have to surge out in the form of anger, insecurities, skewed perspectives, misplaced values and such.

Though fictional, let me cite one of my favorite TV series Dexter as an example. Dexter Morgan is a Miami Police blood spatter pattern analyst. Unfortunately, he is also a serial killer and his need to kill is referred as his dark passenger. This need can be traced back when he was 3 years and found in a pool of his mother's blood, after watching his mother's violent murder.

It may be fictional but fiction has factual basis.

Fresh pains can be one of the outlets of these repressed emotions. It is like a new open wound over old scars and there you can see a tiny child peeking from the past, in the hope of being seen, comforted in her grief and reassured that there is a place for her in your present and future.

"Minda"-nian Adventure

My good ol' friend, Minda, came to Cebu City last month and invited me to stay overnight in one of the posh local hotels. Along with her colleagues, I joined her for dinner.

One of the perks of being Minda's friend, aside from meeting a showbiz personality out of the blue, is to be looped into an adventure. And with Minda's adventures, you just can't say no, because you don't have time to say so. For all you know, you're right in the smack of it.

When we were at the basement parking lot of the hotel, Minda was babbling about leaving me in her room while she attend to a meeting to polish the plans the following day. Amidst Minda's babbling, we turned the wrong way and ended up in the hotel's KTV bar. If I were to believe in omens, that should be the sign.

We were directed to the elevator that would bring us to floor where Minda's meeting will be held. Unfortunately, we ended up to another parking lot; this time, with a scarce number of automobiles. Since, that was in a nearby floor to where Minda planned to go, we decided to try the fire exit.

Seeing the almost vacant parking lot, Minda jokingly recalled those horror movies she participated in and went straight to the door marked EXIT. And this is where the adventures started.

Mangoes for A Client

Months ago, a woman saw my portfolio of paintings and sketches. I can see that she was pleased that she asked me to do a still-life painting of a mango fruit. She planned to hang the piece in her dining room. I agreed. She had some specifications, though.

One, there should be leaves. Done.

Two, it should be a yellow mango. (Yellow is her favorite color, next to brown.) Well, one of the mangoes is yellow. Plus, the green tinge of the other two can be attributed to shadows and reflections.

Three, there should be water droplets. Now, I'll be damned. I missed this lesson in my art class.

So, I presented her this painting last weekend.

My client looked at it closely. She was silent for awhile; her husband piped in that they looked like sour mangoes. I told him that it was just the shadows.

Then, the woman asked for the water droplets. I told her I missed learning that in class and I don't want to ruin my shadows on my mangoes (which I have laboriously figured out! accompanied with dramatic flick of hands!). And as a consolation, if she's still interested to get my services, the water droplets will soon follow.  

Next she asked, "Why blue? Why not white?" I replied that blue brings out the yellow color. Her favorite."

So the woman said, with no ecstatic babble, "Thank you. I am happy."

And I let out a deep breath. Ha!

That certainly went like an oral examination. But I can afford an argument with her for this woman has been my constant client since I was a kid: MY MOTHER. 

As much as she loves to critique my works, Mama used to display my art at home and showed it off to visitors. Unlike my Dad who describes me like a big star, she keeps it simple and humble. And on her 70th birthday, this piece on mangoes will go, as planned, to our dining room where most people convene, on ordinary and special days.

Happy birthday, Ma. This isn't really a medal or an award. But I am giving you a fruit of what I love most to do.