When was the last time i posted a blog entry here? When was the last time i painted? When was the last time i held a brush again and used acrylic, oil, or watercolor to give life to my imagination? Honestly, i can very well say that at some point in the not so distant past, i used to be this most enthusiastic and impassioned artist in both the literary and visual forms. Sadly, after my resignation from the company, i was plunged into depression once again.
I have stayed cooped up in my room, doing sideline writing jobs and mulling in my own distress for almost an entire month. I ate much and slept longer than what is needed. Thus, unsurprisingly, i regained 15 pounds of the 35 pounds i have worked hard to lose within a span of five long months. I am immobilized. Numbing myself from the pain manifests itself through a blatant denial and rejection of my reality (Thank God, i still managed to have classes and write despite my listlessness). Typically me, if i may say so myself.
But underneath all this emotional muck that keeps me from moving on is solid courage. A courage powered by rage. Rage out of pure frustration. I am angry because i have never gone anywhere despite the many talents i have been bestowed with. Angry because i still have to battle loneliness and feel unloved despite my being naturally loving and sweet. Angry because i have long neglected the call of the arts and literature--the two most important aspects of myself that comprise my individuality. Hence, after wallowing far too long in my own misery, i have finally gathered the courage to get myself out of my own emotional quicksand and get my life back on track. I am going to fight and this painting marks my battle for fulfillment and self-realization anew. I have a poem done and ready for publishing, but one poem does not suffice. I have worked on this painting here many years back but did not have the time to finish it. Now i have resolved to continue working on it until completion. But i really do not have any idea what would come out of this. More than three years of working with colored inks has somewhat made my hand clumsy and awkward with holding a brush. I have to build my confidence and hand control from scratch again. Crap! I am back to square one again(not really beginner's level though, thank God).
But what the heck? I would forge onward regardless of difficulty. Hard as it is for my pride to take that i have brought myself back to where i started after years of developing my craft, this is how life works. So be it. Oh, well...God will see me through all this. He would back me up, I know. All i have to do is keep up with the fight and stay patient and resilient. Making mistakes, after all, is essential to experiencing life. But learning the lessons from them as well as I could while practising them is how I would give meaning to the word living.
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