#war4wp
Chapter 4
Confused
People believe what they see on the surface—or at least what they see based on what they perceive it to be.
Beliefs create opinions. Opinions make a judgment. Judgment brings pain. Pain brings sadness. Sadness brings misery.
Everything stems from various causes and everything equates to a variety of results.
This is one of the things I learned from my grandfather—Idris Zavala. He's an excellent painter. Sikat na sikat siya noon lalo pa no'ng kabataan niya.
His works are still famous even up to this day, but nothing compares to how well-known he was in the past.
Huge personalities buy his artworks. His pieces would always cost hundreds of thousands or if not—millions of dollars.
Kinikilala at tinitingala siya ng lahat hindi lang sa Pilipinas kundi maging sa ibang bansa. Bukod sa mga kilalang mga personalidad, binibili rin ng mga politiko ang mga gawa niya.
Even I look up to him.
He's one of the greatest painters I know.
Pero ang mas hinahangaan ko sa kaniya ay ang mga pananaw niya sa buhay.
Bata pa lang ako, nakakarinig na ako ng maraming mga bagay galing sa kaniya. He always brings me to his studio. He will spend a lot of hours on a single painting and I will be there, watching him finish it.
Paminsan, isasali niya ako sa pagpipinta. Ngingiti siya sa 'kin at sesenyasan akong lumapit. I will walk to him and he will let me hold one of his paint brushes. Hahawakan niya ang kamay kong may hawak na paint brush at sabay kaming guguhit sa blangkong canvas.
I won't forget every second of every day I spent in his art studio. I loved how his four-cornered quiet room smelled like fresh paint and how every wall is decorated with different canvases.
I loved how my laugh sounded in that studio and how lolo laughs along with it.
Ipinasada ko ang kamay ko sa puno na ng alikabok na lamesa ng parehas na kuwartong tinutukoy ko sa isipan. Inilibot ko ang paningin sa paligid noon at para na 'yong nagmistulang bodega sa dami ng mga gamit na inimbak doon.
The vivid and colorful studio I used to remember is long gone.
I purse my lips and I walk to a nearby canvas. Hindi pa tapos ang piyesang 'yon. May sketch at paunang lapat ng kulay pero hindi tapos.
It's been weeks since I last visited this studio.
"Ida."
Napalingon ako sa tumawag sa 'kin at naabutan ko si Agnes—a brunette with brown almond eyes, narrow nose, and standing at five foot three. She's wearing her scrubs—her usual uniform.
"Is he awake?" tanong ko at lumabas na ng maalikabok na studio.
Tumango si Agnes at naglakad na kasabay ko. "Pinakain ko na rin siya kanina."
"Anything new?"
Umiling siya at hindi na ako nagulat pa roon dahil sanay na ako. Nagpatuloy kami sa pag-akyat sa malawak na hagdan.
"Iuutos ko sa kasambahay na linisin at ayusin ang art studio. Hindi dapat na ginagawang bodega ang kwartong 'yon," I say.
"Pero ayaw ni Sir Idris, 'di ba? Wala naman daw kwenta kung lilinisin pa 'yon dahil—"
