~FloodOfTears

The 3rd of July has sneaked up on me again, in the bleak, wet winter days of Auckland. I'm always caught off guard, and I instantly fall into disquiet... remembering how hard some decisions that I've made have been.

Winter always fills me with sadness, and I am homesick for the cruelest of reasons. I am reminded once again why I am here, what brought me to this silent land, what made it so hard to leave home... and why I decided to stay. I remember the struggles of trying to remain sane with a broken heart, in a place where nobody really knows me, far away from everything familiar that I've ever known. I reminisce the warm sunny days and laughter... my good friends in times of creative bursts in class. I yearn for the silly jokes, the heat within a little yellow mini trudging along the dusty roads of PJ, the stillness of the lake at Taman Jaya in the rain. I recollect the dreaded journeys back from college to home, knowing that I'll arrive in that little town in the dark again, always being greeted with indifference at the best, hateful mistrust at the worst. I recall the awful fights and the silent treatment before I left the country for good.

And what a change beckoned soon after. I was fortunate enough to live with a wonderful family in Wanganui. I have learnt so much, through good and bad times. I have grown into a stronger person than I ever thought I could be. And none of this would have happened if I hadn't left, if I had given up my dreams, if I didn't believe in the most important person of all - myself.

I look back at 1460 days of rebuilding all that I know and being all that I can be, for once without having to worry about receiving approval from anyone, and not having to conform to what everyone else was expecting me to be. The freedom that came from within was something raw and powerful yet it left me simultaneously vulnerable, at the mercy of my own hands.

I am older. I know that I will one day find enough peace within myself to live with my decisions. I just hope that I am wise enough to know that it's okay to feel a little lost sometimes, and that everything doesn't always have to be within my control for me to find my happiness.

Another curveball to duck, another introspective turn towards the deepest wounds within the heart. There is something about being alone that causes the mind to wander too much... foraging old paths down memories you wish you could just leave behind. The constant beatings at one's own self-esteem often cracks the rock-hard surface eventually... revealing a beating heart that's bleeding with every tear it caused you to cry. I no longer feel shackled... but a strange yet familiar emptiness invades in the quiet night, permeating my dreams... visions of falling apart, of being left behind, of failing. And I awake feeling like I have relived my worst fears, and I worry that I have let them seep into the day.

I will not give up. And I will not let myself break me down. For doubt is a pain too lonely to realise that faith is his twin brother... and I have faith that I will see the light of day again.

The time has come when I finally get to witness my big sister getting married. In a church. I cannot believe it is happening. I am going to be the bridesmaid. And I am thousands of miles away from her right now.

My sister was my hero when I was growing up. True that I was the little devil that drove her insane. We were like enemies when I was 6, best friends when I was 16. And now she's going to walk down the aisle with the man she's been in love with for more than 5 years, mostly in secret.

I wish I was there to pick the wedding dress with her. I wish I could tell her how beautiful she looked when she cannot decide which flowers to use. I wish I could paint her the way I remember her.

I have been away from home for 3 years now. And every time I think of home, I want to cry. Although my journey has brought me here and I know that it is the right path... I cannot help but remember the days gone by. Sometimes I wish I could be 16 again, chatting into the wee hours of the morning with my sister, complaining about our boyfriends, our parents, our lives...

J, I love you... I miss you dearly... and I am so happy that your dreams are coming true.

There are times when dreams are not enough. Perhaps they are too strange for the mainstream. Maybe I am a little bit morbid in my unconscious. Needless to say, relying on the realms of the dark isn't always the best way to go... as the depressing thoughts leak into my moods and I become so sullen while I try to replicate the image on canvas. And I cannot escape from it for days.

I have my first exhibition coming up at the end of June. "Beneath the Surface" will be at the Art Boutique in Tauranga, and I will be exhibiting with another Kiwi artist Lyn Hurring. I can barely contain the excitement but I am exhausted from constant cold nights feverishly trying to complete a painting. I am working on 4 at the same time right now. And I have less than 3 weeks to go. Needless to say I am nervous.

I am finding inspiration in the oddest things now. A rusted chain. A deflated balloon. Weeds. Perhaps the desperation of scrambling for a good concept has led to a creative burst.

Here's to the things we should pay a minute's glance to instead of passing by yet again.