The day before, while attempting to reorder my bedroom, I have neatly boxed my life as a painter, to create space for my new life. Okay, let me clear something up. I do not WORK as a painter. Painting was somewhat of a hobby combined with taking classes in university in hopes of making it a part time job.
But it was something that defined me all my life, from a little child. I always thought I’d end up writing, and drawing one day. It’s my relaxation, my identity of sorts.
I haven’t touched a brush in 2 years, and felt guilty all the while, for letting life get in the way. On the back of my mind I waited for the time when I will get back to it. The boxes of pastels and watercolors stayed on obvious shelf right next to my bed, the vase with brushes and the wood drawing dummy right next to them. It was always on a close spot so that I can get right on with it.
But I don’t. (more…)