07 : art
Ang tunog ng paggalaw ng kamay ng orasan ay hindi sumasabay sa pagtibok ng aking puso. I couldn't help but feel as if I were marching towards the inevitable doom and I couldn't do anything to stop my own feet. The truth about pressure, it's suffocating.
Ilang minuto o oras na ba ang lumipas? Simula nang dumating ako ay ganito pa rin ang ginagawa ko—ang tumitig sa puting vellum board na nakatayo sa easel na nakuha ko.
Lumingon ako sa malaking bintana at nakitang medyo lumiliwanag na ang madilim na kalangitan. Naalala ko tuloy nang umalis ako sa bahay kanina mga bandang alas quatro y media ay sobrang dilim pa ng paligid. Ginulo ko ang buhok ko habang yamot na umuungol dahil sa pagkasiphayò.
I had already wasted so much time. May trabaho pa ako mamayang alas siete sa Kofia. Wala na akong ibang oras pang gumawa ng project ko. Bukas na ang pasahan kaya kailangan ko na itong gawin. But I had no idea what I'd draw or paint. Alam kong minor lang 'to pero ayokong bumagsak sa kahit ni isang subject. My dad would be furious.
Biglang sumagi sa isip ko ang eksena noong biyernes. Rien was painting something in this room. Saan niya kaya inilagay 'yong ginawa niya?
Inilibot ko ang aking mga mata sa buong silid. My eyes stopped towards the corner near the door where most of the paintings were in.
Wala sa sariling tumayo ako at naglakad palapit doon. Nanatili ang gaspang na mga tekstura ng canvas at boards sa aking mga daliri nang hipuin ko ang mga iyon isa-isa.
Akmang kukunin ko na sana ang isang painting na nakapag-agaw ng atensyon ko nang biglang bumukas ang pinto kaya wala sa sariling napatili ako't napatalon.
Who wouldn't squeal and jump in this situation? I was all alone in this big school in the middle of dawn on a Sunday and the door suddenly opened!
Nanlaki ang mga mata at tila rin naestatwang tinignan niya ako, tila ba hindi niya rin inasahan ang aking presensya.
Ang kanang kamay ay nakakapit sa aking dibdib. Bumukas ang bibig ko ngunit tila naubusan ng boses ay walang salitang lumabas dito, kaya gamit ang hintuturo ay dinuro ko na lamang siya.
"Anong ginagawa ko rito?" sinabi niya ang mga katagang gusto kong maibulalas. Isang tango lamang ang naisagot ko. "You could ask the same to yourself." He proceeded to come in and dropped his backpack.
I went back to my seat once my breathing returned to normal. I told him my situation and that I had no other time so I had to make our project at this time. "I have a valid reason. E, ikaw? Anong ginagawa mo rito?" I finally asked.
Naglakad siya palapit sa nakahilerang mga work-in-progress paintings sa sulok pagkatapos i-set up ang easel na gagamitin na inilagay niya sa may bandang harapan ko.
"Good inspirations usually come at this hour," tanging sagot niya bago maayos na pumwesto sa stool, ang mga mata ay nakatutok sa board na bitbit.
He pulled up the sleeves of his sweatshirt. I couldn't help but stare at his manly arms. Lean muscles of his forearms and biceps perfectly carved his body. But my eyes stuck at his big and slender hands as he prepared his brushes and palettes that were taken out from his bag.
I thought he would never lay his eyes on me again and would only focus on his art. He was dipping his brush on a white paint when he suddenly glanced up and saw me peeking at him behind my blank board, red handed.
Mabilis naman akong tumago dahil sa hiya, pero huli na.
"I hope you wouldn't mind me being here. You can continue with your art, though," bulong niya sa napakatahimik na silid. His voice was soft like a morning breeze.
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