I managed to get myself a set of Carandache coloured pencils (I’ve purchased it some 10 years ago) and a small box of Carandache chalk pastels.

After 8 years of leaving the university, I’ve been carried away by this wave called “work” and somehow, I haven’t created a “serious” artwork since then. The realization that I’ll be turning 30 soon  and I haven’t really created an illustration or an artwork that I would want to show in an art exhibit in the next few years had me running up to an art supplies store. 

I found this shop in Bras Basah Complex called Art Friend. My heart went wild and my heart palpitated to a maximum speed. If only I can, I would love to dance around with joy at the sight of all the “jewels” that sparkle in front of me. I am surrounded by an interesting collection of oil paints, coluoured pencils, watercolour, canvases, acid-free watercoulour papers and brushes and all sort of knick knacks for arts and crafts.

I know you might think I’m kinda weird or something, but that’s exactly how I feel. I’ll stop all my overly dramatic blabber now and just show you my valuable finds. 

Here’s my new set of Daler-Rowney Watercolours and Brushes and St Cuthberts Mill acid-free watercolour papers.

Hopefully, now is the perfect time for me to rock and roll and paint!  :)

Thanks Camille, for letting me borrow your new digicam.  :)

My father gave me my very first watercolor when I was in first grade. He told me that I should fill up the whole paper with color and must not leave out any white space. I still remember the yellow plastic packaging of the watercolor pans, the brand was a cheap brand called Guitar, and produces very pale colors. I had so much fun with this simple watercolor. And life was just so simple then.

It was really a great shock for me when my mom and my brother called me on the first of December last year to tell me that I must go home soon, for my father’s health is in serious condition. I arrived home on the 2^nd of December, only to find out that my father died the night before I came home, barely 24 hours before I arrived in our house in the small town of Pagbilao, Quezon Province in the Philippines.

I was in limbo for the past five months. I would always check my emotions and refuse to believe that my father will never see my drawings again, or celebrate my little victories. Between my parents, he was more ambitious than my mother, and he got his big dreams for me and my brother. While our mother wants us to just study at a college in our province, our father insisted on sending us to the country’s capital, Metro Manila, to get our college education. I’m quite fortunate to have told him that I was very thankful to him and my mother for supporting me in getting a degree in Fine Arts, a decision that raised quite a number of questions from my relatives because they believe that artists are destined to have a struggling life.

The death of my father makes me realize the inescapable truth of my own mortality. I’ll be turning 30 soon and I might have already lived half of my life. This brings me to the realization that there are still so many things to do, places to travel, mountains to climb, books to read, people to meet and drawings and paintings to create.

As I continue to live the other half of my life, I want it to be a celebration of the life that I was born into… a Crayon’s Life. And I hope with all my heart that my father will be proud and happy for me, wherever he may be.

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