One Hundred Fifty

11 - See Through Hands

I stared at the portrait I just finished. It's dull, yes, it's a masterpiece but it's so freaking dull. Maybe because of the person inside it or maybe because of the person who sketch it.

They're both dull, cause they're both me.

I remembered the very first time I saw the paint brush in my Father's hands, the joy I felt when he teaches me what to do with those paint brush, at first it turns out painting isn't for me, but sketching portrait. Until I evolved and fuse the two, portrait, sketching with paints. I don't know if I'm the only one who does that, I noticed that some of the artist I knew pick only one medium for the colors or texture or only use it for a draft. But I include it and make sure to highlighted the sketches in the midst of the colors... I mixed it, maybe because it was my greed talking.

Maybe because I'm not contented in only one piece of medium enhanced in an art. I want a lot.

And maybe that's the reason... why it feels so empty.

Wala na akong igagaling. Wala ng excitement. But all my life, it's been devoted to art. And now that I can't chase art anymore, I don't know what to do but stared at the finished painting, sketches, all over the room.

I've come this far. At the age of 22, maybe it's time to quit art?

"Darling! Anak! Nakapag ayos ka na ba?" Ask Dad from the

I glanced at my body hugging, black turtle neck dress, walked to the mirror and fixed my long hazel brown curly ponytail.

I replied after fixing my makeup with a "coming!" then proceed to the sala where they were all waiting for me.

"Ang ganda na talented pa." Rinig kong sabi ni Mama and I turned to her to kissed her cheeks right after Father with a little smile resting in my lips.

"Tara na?" Aya ni Dad saka sinundan namin s'ya na naglalakad kung saan ginarahe ang kotse.

During the journey, I can't help but sigh through the window. The wind passed through my hair, cheeks, and neck, they were cold but I didn't mind. Hindi maganda ang amoy ng usok kapag maraming sasakyan, but today, it's extra special.

Maybe because there's only small portion of cars today that allows me to sniff on this air from the trees that we're passing by. Or maybe because this is the day I'll finally be quitting art.

Pupunta lang ako ngayon sa isang studio, tatapusin ko na ang art workshop ko for today.

Pagkababa ko ay binigyan ko ulit ang magulang ko ng magkabilang halik sa pisngi and quietly waved bye at them. They're very supportive since the day I learned that I love art, that I love drawing, sketching and painting.

Ako lang talaga ang nagsawa.

Hindi ko alam kung bakit kahit nakapalibot saakin ang mga taong parang kayang talikuran ang lahat para sa pagpipinta ay hindi ko maramdaman kung anong dahilan ng motivation nila. I can't feel or absorb their motivation. And it hurt me more than anything to quit art... It feels like...

It feels like... no matter how hard I try I can't draw something again. I grew tired of drawing or even painting it.

Umupo ako sa pinakadulo ng silya. The arrange seat are composed of 5 rows and 5 columns which makes us only 25 learners. I noticed that my seatmate is absent. Well, I'm gonna be in the next days.

Ten minutes bago lumabas ang mentor namin ng halos mapuno na ang mga banko. Nag libot libot ako ng tingin, someone will smile at me, give me small talk or their piece and will ask for a piece of advice. I'll just smile and say keep it up. Hindi na katulad noon na mag kokomento ako ng mga technical problems, details or will point out what's great in the piece. That's how I give out constructive criticism, well I guess that's how everybody does it.