Month: May 2017

Why is my work worth reading?

“Why is my work worth reading?”

This is a question I want to try nailing down for my audience. It’s not so much that I create content in the hopes to develop some form of income. I’m here because I believe in the passion I have towards creativity.

I’ve spent a large proportion of my life exploring the various amounts of art, from realistic paintings to web-development, from graphic design to animation and game design, from architecture to woodwork, from playing the piano to creating song lyrics. I have discovered incredible amounts of passions for every single piece of work I’ve dedicated my energy to, but unfortunately, most of it never lasts. But recently I’ve been able to find my sense of whereabouts in the creative industry, and I believe it’s partially writing. The reason I say writing is that I also want to dedicate my energy towards the promotion and encouragement of artists from all forms of beauty.

I plan on writing poetry, journals, anything as a way to build up my creativity and possibly get myself out there. I’m also using this as a means to develop my skills and style that could mould my identity into what I believe is the true self I’ve searched for all my life. Throughout this pathway of exploration, I will dedicate time towards workshops that could potentially benefit me, allowing for more refined content.

In regards to the promotion and encouragement of artists, I have dedicated my studies towards commerce, as well as a 16-week workshop every Saturday in web-development. I want to implement every piece of knowledge gained from these courses into my future plans. I believe my passion towards this future has been alongside me all this time but in the form of mixed feelings and confusion. Rather than just seeing and appreciating one’s art, I always felt the need to do it, whether it was watching an architecture construct a stunning house with complex plans with exact dimensions, or an animator presenting the raw emotion of happiness in the form of a young child running through a beautifully coloured setting of nature. This even occurred within the proximity of family, with my brother being the best surfer I know without that statement being even a hint of exaggeration.

At this point in my life, I have realised that I cannot be everyone at once, I cannot go down every single pathway that sparks even the slightest interest. I need to find some form of middle ground for myself and this is where my plans come in. I’m not interested in the monopoly of the industries, I’m not interested in some grand cheque every month. I’m deeply passionate for the hard workers out there, the artists who stay awake day and night dedicating themselves to projects one after the other. I’m here to find some form of means to promote them, to relieve them partially of their stress behind their creations. I am here for the broken artists, the ones lost in the maze of depression, the ones wandering around in the fog aimlessly. I am here for the artists shattered by their physical or mental illnesses. I believe I can do that because I come from a background of illness with my complex heart conditions, partial deafness, damaged lung and years of depression. I want to use my past as a means to communicate with struggling artists, with those who feel like their issues are roadblocks when they’re merely pillars of who they are.

So I think that’s enough of a detailed answer as to why my work is worth reading. I hope this will be able to give some kind of insight as to who I am and where my passion lies.

Beauty in dark corners

A lovely person lately brought to my attention that my fatal flaw is that I can’t help but see the best in people. I must admit that I do understand the reasoning behind it as I have met my fair share of tragedies. But it’s a flaw I’m willing to suffer with because I just know how beautiful the best can be. I know to some extent the small beauties behind the characters people often hide. Whether it’s the unrecognisable kindness behind simplistic syllables they choose to share, or the easily missed nod when they’re focused on your words. I’m often catching myself noticing tiny wonders behind people as I learn new beauties. 

I’ve taught myself to explore the people I meet, not in the way a dissection would study someone. I rather explore people to find their true selves, because there is nothing more incredibly than the true passionate spirit. To find an individual’s deepest passion is extraordinary. It allows for them to open up with me and in some cases, I can help them. I’ve met many who have been lost in the furthest corners of depression where they feel like nothing could help them out. But through all this darkness, I’ve seen incredible talents. I’ve met writers who could bring warmth through her delicate writings. I’ve met beautifully talented designers who scream beauty through their compelling pieces. I’ve met musicians who could pull out the unspeakable truths in the form of a song. 

Regardless of where someone has been or possibly still going through, I will always try my hardest to find their inner fires.

You no longer exist

You know me well enough to find the combination of letters to shatter me. You know the precise few seconds it takes before my heart pauses with emptiness. You laugh at the broken soul in front of you as you lose yourself in your own mischief. You can’t help but feel good about the wounds you inflict upon me, covering up the reasons behind them as revenge. You know deep down that you’ve gone beyond your own lies because this is no longer interpreted as revenge. No, this is the petty nature you’ve moulded into, or maybe it’s just who you’ve always been. For the longest time, I blamed myself, I thought that every infliction was understandable.

This pain you once took part in developed into my own growth. I grew up deteriorating every fibre of who I am supposed to be. I know this sounds like I am trying to lift this regret, this guilt of destroying my grades, my motivation, even my will to live. I know it sounds like I am trying to blame you for every shit corner of my life but I’m not that petty. I  know I have done wrong, I know I have caused pain upon myself and others. Yes, to some degree, it can trace down to your actions. But you no longer exist, you no longer have power over this grand scale of life. This is me moving through the acknowledgements of myself, allowing myself to get back on the right pathway of growth. You won’t ever read this because I will never let you discover the person I am becoming.

Confusing pathways

You were right, I spend my life waiting. I spend my life waiting for the right moment, the day the broken pieces pick themselves up. I’m just terrified, you know? What if that day comes, what if the broken pieces come together and all I find is emptiness. Think about it, every piece of me, every shatter came from the beauties in my life. What if I grow up and discover that the adventurous side of me is no longer there, or the fire I once had inside me is long gone. If you want me to be honest, I have no idea what’s supposed to happen.

I’m split between many trails of thoughts. What if I spend too much of my time in the past, and not moving on and learning from mistakes? What if I spend too much of my time in the present, allowing for a difficult and unprepared for future? What if I spend too much of my time worried about the future, to the point where I lose everything in the now? What if I prepare too much for my future that when I do eventually reach the end of my goals, I’m left feeling empty? I’m struggling to find the perfect balance in life, and I’d do anything to find it.

The clingy past

You are the gateway between the past and what is important, the realm between excruciating pain and happiness. You are the unforgettable scar stretched across every inch of my body that’s never going to let the past go. You are the old brick holding open the deteriorating door of a shed full of rusty tools I have no use for.

Do not get me wrong, you are an angel in the flesh. You are the yellow overhanging lamp in the quiet street at night, the white dove in a murder of crows. But I can’t help but see the cracks slowly appearing through as every conversation crosses through. I can’t help but feel broken with parts of me still breaking off. I thought I could handle this, I thought I could move on from every dent of my past, but you’re still there with your finger unintentionally pressing down on my bruises.

The small future moments

I often spent my darkest times, searching for the slightest cracks in the walls in hopes to find some form of light. My most grateful trick I forged into my own personality was to look into the future, not in some grand, spectacular way where life becomes a paradise with all my troubles vanish. It was the simple idea of appreciating the small realistic outcomes in the future. For me, it was my very own little apartment, filled with furniture I picked out and paid for myself. It’s my very own couch that remembers me the second I collapse onto it, my cheap, but good enough, TV set up in front of me. It’s the colours of the walls, the layout of my kitchen, the placement of my plants, and the sheets on my bed that I chose myself, that in some way resembles a small part of me. This tiny aspect of my future creates a beautiful sense of individualism, this future me where I am no longer reliant on others around me.

It’s a future I look forward to.

The excitement of memories

One of the largest contributors to every beautiful memory to me is the overwhelming feeling of happiness. The warmth building up in your chest, spreading to every part of your body like a dam has just been smashed to pieces. The slight pause in time that feels almost infinite in the most appreciative way. This almost infinity is beautiful because it allows for the admiration of whatever the cause is for a few short moments before reality kicks in, with this feeling of appreciation still captured within the heart. To me, thinking of all the tiny memories allows for an easier pathway, a pathway filled with incredible amounts of hopes. This hope is brought upon by the idea that there is an entire future ahead, just waiting to capture more astonishing memories. Excitement is one of the best outcomes here, as it fills you with wonder and fascination in the possibilities. You can’t help but feel this build up of excitement, with questions popping up in your head one after the other about what could be, or what could not be. This happiness towards the future is an incredible drive that allows you to be open to anything that comes your way.

My closed self

I know you partially know this but I’m an incredibly shy person. I stutter and mutter words in important moments, whether it’s exchanging important key information in meetings, or the opening up of oneself to someone I want. I’m a quiet person hoping to build my confidence, to never fear about talking honestly without a single imbalance in speech. I wish you could know the perfection I see in you, but I’m still on my pathway of openness. I’m slowly trying to open up a book that’s never been opened, this constant fear of tearing a piece of thin paper becomes overwhelming to me that I retreat, closing up the book. I am trying, and I honestly believe I’ll get there, whether it takes me years of muttering riddles of self deprecation jokes. 

The hopeful moon

It was the lightness of the darkness that got me

The sky pale with the colour of dark blue

The bright moon white in the sky

It’s roundness glaring down at us

Not with power, but with admiration

Like an observer watching over as nature takes its course

The years it has spent with us

Watching us grow into a mixture of good and evil

It’s brightness can only hold on for so long

Like an eye whimpering for a blink

But like an eye, it’s waiting for the next moment to open

For the world is filled with enough beauty to watch over

Despite the falls

The support I hope to give

Do you really want to know me? I’m nothing but an empty barrel of poor diets and terrible sleeping patterns. I am the person who belongs nowhere with the delusions of someone who believes they can be anyone. I am the instant texter because of the paranoia that fills my mind because I cannot help but believe that I am not deserving of such relationships in my life. I am the dark bedroom filled with a blinding computer screen and the stench of chips. I am a lost hope walking blindly through last minute assignments and tests I never studied for. My room is constantly reshaped due to the illusion of a different space meaning a better version of myself. I am the emptiness behind the stolen jokes and the overused humour.

But I will tell you this; despite every flawed characteristic I have, I stand by everyone I meet. I will always be the one to lost sleep because of a friend desperately in need of support. I am a huge believer in the importance of closeness and vulnerability in every relationship. I try to become close with everyone I meet, not for my own selfish validation of “selfless” kindness, but for the sole purpose of learning. In my time, I have created friendships with people of all areas, from depressed artists to passionate future doctors. I have seen the true beauty in their voices as they gain that momentum of confidence, that tiny spark blasting into wildfires as they become vulnerable to me. For the longest time, I’ve never been sure of what I want to be

For the longest time, I have never been sure of what I want to be, whether it’s an IT specialist or an artist of some sort. But the more reflection made upon my past, upon the relationships developed over the years, an idea has risen. I want to help people in the best possible way I can. Yes, I know I have much to work on to become such an impact, but it will all be worth it.