discovering myself ..

Buckling down to the task of painting about myself was a kind of horror because I had never known myself very well. On the other hand, I realized that facing to a blank canvas and doing nothing on it was really irritating at Sunday midnight. It was because this time I could not shout at my ma to do it, threaten my dad to do it or whip my brother to do it. This painting had to be all about me.

Even thought I had got 12 brushes, a 16-color acrylic box-set, a 50ml bucket of clean water, a 1.5m height popup canvas stand, my brain was still as blank as my canvas. Maybe this white damn blank canvas was all about me.

If the white blank canvas were me, I had had to dress it up a bit trendy by collageing my used colorful T-shirts and fashionable dresses to pretend I am a knowledgeable and smart girl. Yes, it was me, but it was part of me who did not cherish whatever I had.

The other side of me was emerging when my ma caressed my hair and praised my horrible painting. I started realizing if I loved painting I could only use one canvas, one brush and one purple color. The most important thing that I can paint is because of my family. They brought me to the world to let me enjoy the pleasure of painting.