Once upon a time there was a little girl who loves to draw using twigs (as a stylus) in a mud-covered soil. She loves when it rains, but what she loves the most is when the rain stops so that she could draw lines, shapes and figures in the soggy land forms. Since Philippines as her native land is a tropical country, she also uses banana leaf as a flat form of her Thumbelina illustrations.
Schooling is never been boring once she has a tiny sketch book on her palm. She never uses that in taking notes because she got pity with the page. She wants to bring justice with the paper by mending a smiley and heart-shaped-spacecraft rather than bullying it with numbers and terminologies.
One day, she looks up in the skyline and traces the bubbly cumulus clouds gathering along the mountains trunks. From that moment, she learned that Mother Nature also draws! Amazing! She could see baby riding in a train, sheep, buildings, robots, aircraft, boat and all characters that she could imagine.
“Your imagination is the limit.” She always swears as an end rhyme of every thought at the back of her mind. She leap from one point to another and ride with a pen with no point. Yes a pen with no sharp point. Well, probably she’s thinking that there’s no point on crafting lines and figures if the vertical and horizontal swigs of her pen never reflects her emotion instantly with that sharpness. She just loves to scroll down and rub her fingers to the sponged- ink and charcoal of her pen.
For her the world is an stupendous canvass, an arena of written visuals and symbols. Each were given their own pen to write their own meaning and find its own worth. Therefore, the capacity of our art will always depend on how we manipulate our neurons transporting within our brain.
One day, the little girl wander into the land were gruesome humanoid surfs from the east to the west of the city. She tumbled from valley to valley and hang her own shoulder bag in the cliff of a mountain called-Mt. Forever. She rummage for her sketchpad and her cracked-pencil case. Sit under the edge of the sneaky rocks and set-off her feet in a free-fall air. She could smell the lemons harvested from the 11th Street of the North, she laughs and wish perhaps she could have one cup of it. Turning her head back, her heart suddenly collapse when the terrain of magnificent valley kisses the crimson sun. She just want the peacefulness of the crowded-trees swaying like a ballerina. The time has come for her to spread her own wings and fly and paint the skyline.
Perhaps it would be great if I tour you to her mind…learn the twigs, thoughts and not-so-creepy-but-awesome-inspirational-weird-motivational-barbs-creation-by-heart-and-by-hand.
LET’S GO DOWN THERE — INTO THE GIRL’S MIND !!!
Maybe, a mom likes to pause for a while and paint the whole town.
From then on, the little girl learn to speaks not in words but by heart and crafts. The sparks to write the emotion of the world set a sunrise on her life. This little girl will rise and finds her worth. Draw. Sketch. Sleep. And Pray. And find Meanings.
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