Tuesday, October 30, 2012

Let the mad artist out.

This is a scheduled post. By the time this is published I would probably be walking along the crowded streets of Quiapo and it's really not hard to find me. Look for a girl with a long flowy skirt, strangling the line between tufts blue and steel blue, and a white shirt cut and with lots of holes with black bra straps showing, carrying a big brown bag as if it's light but it's really heavy, I tell you, from the Zenit-E camera and she would probably carry two books and a notebook and pencils and pens and a her denim jacket which she haven't washed for months now it reaks of cigarette smoke, and oh, she'd probably have that little sketchbook inside too, plus lots of things that she might probably not use. I don't think she'll be wearing boots, but I don't know, I'm assuming she'd be wearing her reliable gladiators for the long walk. Oh and yes, Don't forget the hair. If you see someone as described above and the hair is unruly, well imagine Yoko Ono, I'm probably that girl. But I may tie my hair in a messy bun if the weather gets so hot. 

An as you read this second paragraph I'd probably be heading for my favorite art supply store. I swear I'm broke but I really need a new sketchpad and a new set of watercolors. You see, I'm having this pseudo break from college and lately I haven't drawn a thing or wrote decent shit. It's just that things are really piling up and they're clouding my head and taking away any source of inspiration. It's depressing. But as you read this, I am currently fighting my ghosts - even temporarily - and I swear I will be obsessed to writing and making art because I don't have that much time. And I will cheat time. I will make more than what time expects me, you'll see. Fuck, I don't know if I'm like this because of the coffee.

And to inspire me more, here's a page from my notebook that P tore and put on a gallery's wall. But I don't have it anymore. And speaking of P, he's been urging me to paint lately and I feel so bad because I couldn't pick up a brush, because I just can't. But hopefully I will and we'll paint together.

Pen on paper.  July 2012

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