The Artist In Me
Twenty years have almost elapsed, and somewhere in the deepest recesses of my heart, my long-suppressed artistic-self, is beginning to stretch itself free from tethers.
Due to the stark reality of life, I abandoned painting and embraced the so-called iron bowl, teaching, for a stabler life. I do enjoy teaching, but it can never placate my growing yearning for art. Recently, the sight of kids painting in art classes and some artworks shared by a few artists on facebook has cast a hope-igniting stone into the lake of my heart, creating ripples of desire from the center of the circle that it forms. I can't wait to be back to the world of brushes and colours, where the long forgotten rigmarole of trials and errors, a process in which I derived much joy, awaits me.
During the period of self-denial, I have attempted many things, the likes of cooking, singing and writing. At one stage the love of writing consumed my whole-self, making me dream castles in the air and accepting the challenge of self-publishing. However, alas! I was too naive. I got tangled up with an online publisher and ended up publishing a book of substandard quality. I practically emptied my savings to pay for my printing and promotion fees, but the profit I got was so little. Day in and day out the gravity of regret kept pressing down on me, rendering me breathless. I just got over the pain not long ago.
Painting, my long forgotten-self, has awaken. I can't wait to tinker with colors again. How should I start? Oil paint? Pastels? or acrylic? I painted with all these mediums before but time has blunted my skills. Maybe I should start with acrylic. An ex lecturer of mine, Mary Anne Vaz is good at it and I will check to see if she is willing to accept me as her student. If she refuses to teach me, I will seek tutelage from youtube videos to sharpen my skill.
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