So I clicked “inspire me,” but nothing came out. I wanted to close and try again at first, but I realize that this is too something like art- you start with nothing and create something, hopefully something beautiful, out of that nothing.
My goodness, art was a long journey. It was both painful and marvelous at the same time, I would think. Would I be willing to go through it all over again? If I could change my decision to take art, would I? I don’t think so, really. Art has definitely deprived me of much, aka sleep and revision, but it has also given me much. Experience, resilience. Power. Knowledge and well, desperation. I’ve never been so desperate before, I would think.
Jaime Jam Sarah Toon. Jam Bri Sheena Anh Kristina Pennie Libby. Eve NatLowe Rachel Sze Shen. Amanda Arielle Andrea. Catherine Lisa. The people, the 20 of us. Without the many long hours in which we were forced into each other’s company, I doubt we’ll be this close. Yes, art gave me the company. It gave me companionship- they’re my Zubats.
I really can’t believe the journey has ended, yet I’m so delighted that it has. Another one (aka SOVA) has started, but that’s neither as tiring nor as tough as Coursework. Coursework was.. a journey with many downs. The worst was probably those two nights. One which Theng saved, heck up to now I don’t understand why she randomly messaged me. I think if I didn’t have her that day, this journey might have ended on a different note. So yes. Go thank Theng, self. The other.. Was sharp disappointment, I guess. Thanks to Toon and Tang. They handled it much better than I would have.
The insane sleeping times due to the rush to complete homework after reaching home. The delightful home-cooked dinner by the PVs, hell were they delicious. The black night sky of after dinner, the silence of the school as we walked across the parade square. The staring longingly into the glass-stained windows of the library at night, as we washed up for the day. The whirr of the fans late into the night. The silent stalkings of the teachers checking up on us. The constant playing of music. Bastille.
The painting and washing and mixing and applying and panic and overall process. The rush of fear and desperation whenever the teachers demanded for a check. The empty prep boards and the crazy 5 day National Day weekend rush of drawings. So many thanks to hohoho there for staying back to help me plan out everything, I remember being so scared and paralyzed then. Then, everybody was fighting for themselves. No more helping, cos’ you need to survive yourself first. People were finishing and YOU WERE NOT so you need to finish. Time’s running out, you’re slow, you tell yourself. You need to finish this. And so, you do. Somehow, someday, you finish.
Finishing, its not like what you imagine it to be like. I always thought I would
cry from relief be crazy crazy happy or something. Or announce it to the world. I thought that it would feel like a burden lifted from my shoulders, but it wasn’t that. Yes, the load was lightened, and for a short while there it seemed as if you were free. But no, there’s more to do my dear. Prelims are coming, you sucker. But hey, at least you’re done. No one seems to care though. Its just proof that somethings don’t need to be announced, because nobody gives. a. damn. Great, you finished! But hey I’ve got things to do so shoo child. Go. Let’s change the topic. [Guilt sets in cos’ Chang was willing to listen-ish to my moanings] I can’t deny not doing that too, though. The idea of someone finishing doesn’t fill you up with joy or something, its simply emptiness. You smile and congratulate them, but we both know that its missing something. I don’t think its sincerity, that’s not the right word. And that spiraled far..
Sometimes I think that art completes me. Then I think again, and I feel that it might be the one breaking me. I think that this is what its like loving someone who doesn’t love you back- up and down.
Oh dear, just lost the next two paragraphs. Act smart luh girl. Haha. So yes. Remember the teachers- Mr Ho Hou Lim.
Remember the bads, too. When MrL told Jam to not sit with me. Or me with Joelle. Despite it being for the best (debatable, actually.) How the teachers pay more attention to the bests. How nothing comes out like what you wanted cos’ you can’t do it, even when you wanted to. Favouritism. The fatigue. The stress. The panic and desperation. The inability to hit deadlines. The feeling that no one on the outside can understand, and everyone on the inside is battling the same demons as you are. The silence after someone sees your work. That silence. The no lunch. Its not the actual feeling of hunger that makes me sad, but really the fact that I practically skipped real lunch for 7weeks. Bread sometimes doesn’t cut it, but what can you do.
All those hours dedicated are never enough, there’s always somewhere you can improve, something you can continue.
Enough art related ramblings now, though its over. Revel in that and enjoy what you had, self. I hope you look back at it with joy and nostalgia.