the forgotten philanthroppist

once the greatest man ever lived in our town.

now, nobody knew him anymore.

a friend named andy

(out of an indirect request to write a friend his biography)

andy is a good friend of mine, way back in my college years. like most of my closest (college) friends, he was three years older than me. i met him when i joined a theater group in baguio. he was the incumbent secretary-general. he was silent, soft-spoken and very-introverted or so i thought. he paints and sketches very very well and i mean really really well. now can you see how good he is? huh? huh?
initially, the reason why i joined the group was because they are looking for visual artists. i find it a very good venue to still maximize my interest. since i was taking a course different from the field i am interested with. fortunately, i passed the audition and immediately transfered to the visual arts pool.
one day, when andy actually showed us one of his works. i felt really intimidated and eventually doubted why i am there. the brush and pen strokes of his pieces were in the verge of mere perfection. colors were distributed evenly and lively. shadings and other effects were jaw dropping because it was so realistic. basically, the totality of his works just made me sketch privately and away from his view.

nonetheless, i noticed despite this wonderful talent, he remained humble and away from most of the members. he never bothered talking to us. we merely know anything from him aside from his name, course and his position in the organization. most of the time, we could caught him day dreaming, alone and out of his senses. that was the point we realized, he was depressed.
we never exactly knew the reason why, even the old members would not tell us the cause. but like cats do it, our curiousity eventually lead us to those answers.

since he is my friend, i won't go further to any more details. its his story to tell. basically, he was dealing with a very traumatic experience for the very first time in his life during those days. it was not easy i am telling you and in a way i understood him.

after i knew it, the interaction were like those days when you wanted to initiate in offering your shoulder to someone in need. but you can't simply do it because you don't really know him, personally. mere understanding was not enough. sympathizing and empathizing were out of the question. and all you can actually do was to smile whenever you will cross each other's way. indirectly telling him, you are there to listen. just in case he wanted to.

on the following year, andy filed an honorable dismissal in the university and decided to pursue another course in the lowlands. i never heard anything from him again. one of his closest friend mentioned that, he is taking another course which i thought would be related in fine arts. but it actually was not.

from that point, i never heard anything from him again.

years passed and i finally graduated. i decided to go back to manila and pursue a so-called 'career' here.

because of a common (close) friend, we met again. on that point, he eventually told me what i wanted to know before, without even asking. it intensified the sleeping depression in me for him. but in a way, he made me feel that everything was all over. it was not easy because after those years after he left baguio, the same problem reoccured. harsher if i may say in his behalf. but luckily, he was able to surpass it with a great smile in his lips now. the scars will remain. but he was able to walk on and continue life with his new diploma and the same brushes, painting life with another sets of colors.

kudos to you andy.

realistic painting

for the rest of my restdays (which is the entire weekend), i really felt i was very productive. i was able to finish framing two of the artpieces. one of which was a portrait of a friend as a gift for her birthday. the other one was mine, a self portrait that i have sketched when i was still in college.
it was actually the first time, that i tried framing my works. i usually just store them on my sketch pads or on a folder and leave them there to rot. but since i needed something different and presentable to offer as a gift. i thought of framing it up and made a massive decoration on its border.
initially, i thought of sending it over to a framing shop, but i thought of the expenses that it would endure me. more or less around a thousand bucks was on my mind. so leaving my practical side to do the that thing for me. i went on the nearest national bookstore and bought one of those framed life quotations for 150 pesos. then jumbo size crayons.
when i arrived home, i was so eager in immediately doing what was on my mind. i disassembled the parts of the frame and then pull out the paper in it. i coated the white border with different colors as the first layer and then coat it again with black. after the entire border was already coated, i grabbed an inkless pen then make some etches that created a wonderful effect. it was actually thought to us when i was in kindergarten and called it etching.

it took me atleast two and half hours to finish my desired output. when it was done, i could just can't keep my eyes from staring it. i actually thought twice if i am going to give it or not. but since i have already gave my for it, i just simply can't keep it. so i have decide to create another one.
the next day, after finishing my groceries, i went to NBS in katipunan. i grabbed another set of glass frames, paint medium, couple of paint brushes, canvas and a new set of acrylic paints. i even grabbed a book of cris martinez titled, last order sa penguin. though it would be an entire different story.
anyhow, when i arrived home i immediately grabbed my sketchbook and tore the page of a self portrait laying in bed and holding a cigarette. on this piece, it took me almost four hours because of too many details i have to put in. thinking it would make it more aesthetically pleasing. but it turn out wrong. i think i have over articulated it.
i sighed.
when i was done framing both of my art pieces, i am stucked at staring on my own reflection over the glass frames. overlooking the art works, i over-ratedly saw myself changing profession. a profession i would love doing: no constraints, no deadlines, no need of counting how many hours more to stay in the office and especially no boss.
i wanted to be an artist. a matter of, needing to be one and not only mere wanting it. but the optimism on me that was once overflowing within my veins were beginning to fade away and become pure pessismisms poisoning my personality. i thought of the salary i am going to get, the expenses that i am due for, the lifestyle i have become, significant people i need to help with and many others. these immensely became a hole in me that i began doubting my own capabilities.

in life, it is very easy to be idealistic: to fight for what you need and want: to be able to enjoy life and achieve your dreams. but don't forget, in life as well, not everything comes the way you want it to be. the world will never revolve on you alone. while time will never wait nor compromise for your sake. because aside from you, life has billions of other people to worry and think about. probably that is why we have the word 'realistic' on our vocabulary.