Sketching the Launching Pad
My cat didn’t give me a decent sleep the whole night this morning. She’s pregnant and was laboring, and all throughout she was adamant in getting my undivided attention by slipping in and out of the blanket where I was under and doing this scratching thing on my belly while purring loudly. She wanted me to massage her tummy, I knew it. And she made sure that I wouldn’t get an eyeful of slumber until she’s gotten what she wanted.
Yes, she’s one of those things in my life that I can’t say no to, so shutting her out of the room was out of the question.
Needless to say I woke up this morning with a terrible headache; good thing I had the entire day free. The next days and weeks are going to be busy for me, so with that and the terrible headache in consideration I decided to just hole myself up at home, blast music and clean up my stuff and re-arrange my books on the shelves in alphabetical order. And wait for Cognac to give birth.
This late afternoon I was rummaging through my piles of old notebooks, journals and other papers inside two boxes and paperbags in search of a certain sketchpad. I want to reacquaint myself of the basics in sketching again that’s why, and I thought going through its pages would provide me the briefing I needed. Young adult life has estranged me from the passions of my youth (that’s not so long ago come on), and so recently I made up my mind that I’m going to bring back those heart inclinations of my yesteryears to fill what’s little of my free time these days.
However before getting to that sketchpad I came upon first a bunch of my old notes and writings. Getting to read the first few of them was really strange and funny, because although I’ve always known myself to be a sensitive and emotional person with a bad sense of humor (I hate admitting that but that’s the truth), I didn’t recognize myself in most of them–they’re too fervent and moving and hilarious that I almost felt as if I’m prying by reading them! What an opinionated, melodramatic, smartass kiddo, I thought to myself.
Other stuff I wrote that I found aside from my usual rants and personal thoughts written diary-style were my reviews of albums/films/books, short stories, articles, chronicles of some of my dreams (during sleep)–basically the very stuff that I haven’t been able to do anymore because of the “adult, serious, more important” stuff that I am now required to attend to.
But among all those writings what I found to be my most favorite and the biggest surprise is the ambitious movie screenplay that I wrote 6-7 years ago. I completely forgot about these pages of writings of mine until earlier, so when I found it I was really keen into sinking my teeth into it. But a couple of phrases into it I started to hold back my tears, because suddenly memories of me going through difficult issues and keeping them all to myself came alive in my head: the days when I had to keep a straight face all the time in the presence of family and friends because I didn’t want them to look at me in a different way by telling them what’s going on with me.
The characters in that manuscript, man, I know them. They were these people I created to represent the multiple facets of myself. Suddenly my teenaged self was doing all her best to hold herself together again awhile ago in this room–with me. Because at that time I didn’t want anyone to discover the things I was dealing with, and so instead I tried to unload my burden by telling my story in other words. I thought portraying myself that way, in a cinematic approach would somehow make people understand and relate to my story the way I understand and relate to characters in movies. That at least there would a semblance of acceptance and understanding that would be vicariously generated to my way if I make those thoughts and feelings natural in other people.
It was uncomfortable getting to meet my teenaged self again. But then our tryst makes me understand myself now a whole lot better. In fact she gave me an invaluable perspective. It’s quite complicated to explain what I mean by all these, much less try to encapsulate the gist of that screenplay and share those personal things, but let me just say that that manuscript… well at least it reminded me that I should only allow good things to come out of the negative, and it helped me rediscover that burning flame in the things where I find myself at my truest. It opened me up to the realization that I should give more genuine moments to myself, and how I should never allow the Real World to keep me from going for my dreams and passions, however impractical and Herculean they may seem to others.
I have to be honest and admit that I’m currently in that point of my life wherein I’m in constant search of inspiration to fight off that building cynicism and jadedness that these modern times have brought to me. I’m very much aware of this, and that’s why there is a conscious effort on my part to not get distracted, to keep calm and carry on. Accidentally stumbling upon my old writings a while back couldn’t have been any timelier.
To start doing what I love again would be the launching pad, I guess. Write more short stories that I could submit to publications and anthologies, begin traveling more so that along the way I could build on a repository for my photojournalism project, work double-hard to earn a scholarship grant abroad for further studies, play more of my guitar and learn Catalan guitar-playing and of course, draw more and actually be as good as my older brother.
Right. So many things to do, so little time. I guess I’m lucky that I’m good in being able to give time to every single thing that I set my mind to. Yes, time management is the key to succeed – I will embody this. I don’t want to be one of those people who like to be perceived as cool by groaning, oh, I have no time, I’m a timewreck. Because I believe that nobody is too busy; people should just learn how to prioritize. I’m not the most organized person, but I’m not lazy. There’s a lot to be accomplished with the right mindset.
I’m going to sketch after this. And later and I’m going to play the guitar even if it’s going to be late already and there’ll be someone sleeping next door and the adult world is waiting for my presence early morning tomorrow.