Wandering with the Wind...

Wednesday, June 1, 2011

Have you ever felt this strange, otherworldly sensation, as if all of a sudden so many things are flowing into your life and yet you're inexplicably at peace? There's something slightly disconcerting about it; somehow you know that this is an illusion, a calm before the storm, but it lends an almost ethereal quality to life which waters down its less desirable aspects. You know illusions aren't real and that they don't last, but you're glad to keep it up because they are so much more reassuring than cold, solid reality.

That's how I've been feeling for the past couple of days since the start of the hols. The first couple of days of week one was spent travelling back and forth between home and school for art coursework. I would spend half a day slaving away before the canvas, the other half at home dealing with my parents, relaxing instead of trying to do even more work, and then sleeping for approximately 6-7 hours before the next day. On top of that, my inbox churns up fresh emails almost daily regarding scattered school-related duties such as Geng Yun Illustrations, Art Initiative Speedpainting Video, ArtsFest Manga/Anime workshops, RI Badge-Making Machine etc. There are just so many things to do, and for moments like any other I would quickly switch to another tab, desperate to escape the harsh reminders of work from my inbox.

I'm tired, but somehow strangely content. Well maybe it's apathy, but I can't exactly be bothered to figure it out anymore. All I know is that things have settled into a relatively safe rut and life is passing by almost automatically without much effort on my part. Perhaps for this period of time it's neither me driving life, nor life driving me. Life may be driving itself now. And that's good, because I've always wanted to take the backseat a little while in the vehicle of my own life, watching instead of participating, but knowing that I'm still making progress all the same.

Sometimes I feel as if there is a growing split within myself. It's not a dangerous split like a hairline crack that may break a delicate vessel - it's the kind that expands, expands and endlessly expands, but never limited, never restrained. There is just too much space within myself. At certain times I feel as if I could contain two worlds, one for me, one for me, each cocooned in its own universe only to take turns to revolve to the surface.

When I was painting over the past two days, it was as if I was watching someone else paint through my hands. There's this strange sensation of being in control yet not totally, being there but not quite. It doesn't help that my painting consists of a self-portrait of sorts. When I refer to my self-portrait to my friends, I call it a "her", not a "me", and it felt so natural it's almost remotely scary, as if it's a part of me that makes up my being but doesn't exactly belong to me at all. Staring at her backview makes me feel even more alienated from the surface, as if I'm being pushed gently back underwater and told to take stock of things from a reclined spot. I know I'm being told to wait a little while for something which I do not know. The wait, however, no longer disturbs me. Instead of boredom, it is now a chance for a reprieve which comes by so rarely I have learnt to cherish it.

Life pushes me on now. There is no motive in its encouragement, just a mindless, droning pattern it dutifully wishes to get me back into. What surprises me a little is that I respond to it just as dutifully. I am not depressed, at least I don't think so, and definitely not now at any rate. It's just a numbing of the senses which I have no idea how to react to. Maybe it's because we both are tired. Life and I, the unbreakable bond between us from the moment of my birth...we've come to a consensus to resign for a while, to arrive at a well-deserved truce with that vast, unfathomable something we have both been battling together.

It would do us good.

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~~~*Played with the winds at 9.45pm*~~~

Aurinya blogged at 9:45 PM

Roaming the Winds