Friday, May 8, 2009

What I Want

(In which my hands are aching to feel it again.)


Before I got myself into the trouble, which I am still paying the consequences of until now, I was a different person. I see beauty in almost everything. I love meeting new people. I love to see different smiles from different faces. And most especially, I love the art that has been with me since the first time I got comfortable with my pencil.

I loved drawing and painting. But because of my asthma, I was advised not to expose myself with paints anymore. So I am more comfortable using colored pencils. I draw every time I feel like drawing – or whenever I see something beautiful. Until I got myself burned.

The last time I drew was when those eyes were locked with mine. They were so expressive I got inspired and with a mechanical pencil, I was able to draw his left eye. I was still lucky though. I was supposed to draw his face but he was so uncomfortable I swear he could have snatched the drawing and torn it. But my little talent has saved me. When he saw his own eye on the paper, he smiled. He smiles whenever he sees it. I especially like his smile the last time he saw it. But that was ages ago. History.

I regret not being able to draw his portrait. But whenever I see it now, I don’t smile. Not anymore.

Now I don’t want to be unfair with the art with which I have grown up. Not when it’s my only escape from the harsh realities this world has never been tired of bringing on me. Not when it makes me feel special.

What I want now is to relive the days when me and my pencils are one. And we make beautiful and expressive things again – as beautiful and as expressive as the eyes that used to see through me.
The pain passes but the beauty remains.
- Pierre-Auguste Renoir