I remember, I also gush when some of high school batchmates are doing wonderful works of art and winning competitions left and right. But really, I never attempted to take that crayon or that pastel because I know that even if I try my work wouldn't be good enough. I never drew anything in my life. As a matter if fact, the only activities I can do with a pen or a pencil is either write or doodle.
Fast forward to today. When I thought that growing older means stagnation or being safe or being "regular," I discovered a lot of things about my self. I realized more and more that life is fun and full of pleasant surprises. The beauty of age, it dawned on me, is that less and less people tends to question the things I can and cannot do. Or maybe, people's opinions just tend to bother me less and less.
When someone told me that maybe I can paint because I have good visual sense, it shot some fireworks into my imagination. It ignited something in me. It posed the question - What if? I spent a little to buy myself a set of pastels, a small drawing book and some nice pencils. And wallah! I churned out some nice pastel landscapes. I couldn't believe myself. I did it. It wasn't Van Gogh, nor Rembrandt, nor Picasso. But it wasn't bad. It might not merit a place or a space in an exhibit hall. But the important thing was, I did it. And the reason I was able to do it was because I tried.
Suddenly, I had a reason to stay awake in the middle of the night, when everyone else was asleep. I found a reason to commune with myself. To spend some "me" time.
In my head, it's reeling, all those years, the only person who prevented me from doing it was me. That gave me a thud and some important lessons in life. One, do what you really want. Two, don't set boundaries. And three, do yourself a favor, TRY. Because really, it wouldn't hurt. And maybe, you might even be in for a wonderful surprise.
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