I found something on LiveJournal that triggered a part of my memories instantly a moment ago. I saw pictures of oil paints, crayons, canvases and everything related to arts and painting. Now, I am missing the time when I freely illustrate and paint as much as I want. Back to the times when I was still a student majoring graphic design, I looked at the whole world as a piece of huge blank canvas paper, where I could draw anything I want, any way I want. My dad encouraged me to start drawing again—as a healthy hobby rather than lazying around like a big fat something—and perhaps have it as a second option to my first interest of writing. I also found a box of oil paint inside my cupboard today, the one I bought upon enrolling college to study graphic design two years ago. Right now, I am staring at it with confusion and questions. I just don't know anymore. My hands are not the same as they are when I drew so many pictures that portray my life, my feelings. I want to go back, but I don't know how. There are several other art supplies that my dad kept safely for me—in case I want to return to the artsy roots of mine. I miss colors in my life, instead of just words and more words.
Maybe I should start painting and drawing and doing arts all over again, just to feel a bit more alive. Perhaps I could do a little better, make my life a little more vivid. Now that I want to start doing art again, what should I draw tonight?
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