A [email protected]. Tale

Art is my life. My life is Art.

For as far back as I can remember, I was drawing. Any chance I got with a pencil and a paper I just sat and doodled. I’d get in trouble in classes for doodling instead of listening to the day’s lessons. I’ve lost count on how many times it happened. I was voted the “Class Artist” in grade school and would win awards in art all through eighth grade.

Then high school happened. Middle of sophomore year, I just lost interest.

It might have had to do with many myths I’ve heard about life as an artist. How artists are always starving. Always dirt poor, no friends, no respect (The classic case being that of the famous Vincent Van Gogh). How he would not see a cent of the millions paid out for the paintings, many years after he’s dead.

My young, immature mentality at the time did not wish that kind of life. I did not want to be a bum. I was already the "black sheep" of the family, always behind in my grades, academics, social life. I was feeling pressured to keep up with my siblings and at least stand a chance, to not appear like a sore failure. I believed I had it all figured out—I wanted to be successful, rich, own a house, live a fun adventurous life traveling the world, marry the love of my life, make parents proud, make myself proud and be the envy of all who once looked down on me.

That was twenty years ago.

And sadly, I was nowhere near the vast aspirations I had set for myself. I never got even close.

My life after high school, in a nutshell,

• Graduated below average of the class.
• Went to community college, flunked algebra. To this day I hate math. Took nearly four years to graduate and transfer to a four year university.
• Went to an average state university, took another four years to finish.
• Met the first love of my life only to find it was a total sham. Took me two years to recover. It was part of the reason why it took longer for me to graduate because the emotional toll had tampered with my studies.
• Intentionally ditched classes, and drowned myself in video games and junk food. Barely passed any classes thanks to strategic procrastination.
• Applied my butt off to a gazillion part time jobs never to hear from them. And the few I did get call back from, never got past the interview phase.
• Went back to community college and found my "calling" in theater arts design. For the next three years I actively took part in number of stage productions, got certified in technical theater, and planned for graduate study. But family objections were so strong, I ultimately caved.
• Decided to take a shot at baking, as persuaded by my sister. With the advent of Ace of Cakes and similar shows, the future in decorative baking seemed not too shabby. Once again enrolled in a different college to start my training—
• Then middle of 2010 my mom was diagnosed with non-Hodgkins Lymphoma. A huge blow to the family. Then less than two years later, dad was diagnosed with gastric cancer.
• Being the only kid left living in the family house, the majority of caregiving fell on me. Other siblings have since married, settled in their careers and moved away with their new families.
• The first three years were a struggle, having to stay by mom’s side all the time as she underwent chemo. The cancer relapsed twice within five years, and each time she took on numerous strong treatment. By the time remission finally settled, she was physically and mentally frail and came to depend on me fully. Meanwhile, dad had surgery and was in remission much faster than mom was, but just last year got news of a rare form of prostate cancer. It has now been almost ten years.

Looking back, through all of this carnage, I found myself with a pencil and paper making the usual doodles as I had always done. Art was my saving grace. It was a place where I could withdraw from the mundane and the dread of life and get lost in a dream of colors and lines while creating worlds. Without it, I don’t think I would be here writing this today. No matter how many times I had strayed off course, how many detours I had to take, each time I was redirected to the right path.

And this is only an abstract of my long road to life in art. I could go into deeper details, but it would take volumes of books to fit it all at once. So consider this an introduction, and in the near future I will drop in new tidbits of my life’s tale. Stay tuned...