Time Travel by Jetlag

[February 25, 2012 at 04:30]

Do we read to escape from loneliness? To fill the void that people have left behind with words penned by a stranger, the feelings that we are unable to articulate, all transcribed beautifully on coarse brown paper. Or do we read to reveal that emptiness within - glaring at us like the gaps in between words and the empty pages that follow after the last sentence in a book.

「 Why do people have to be this lonely? What’s the point of it all? Millions of people in this world, all of them yearning, looking to others to satisfy them, yet isolating themselves. Why? Was the Earth put here just to nourish human loneliness? 」– Haruki Murakami, Sputnik Sweetheart

Humans are made to experience loneliness, whether or not we have friends or are in a healthy relationship with a partner. The capacity to feel lonely is not removed or superseded with companionship, but rather, I feel that it is minimized? You feel lonely when you don’t have anyone to miss, you feel lonely when you miss someone. And quite honestly, I am not sure which is harder to bear. Sometimes, even if in a happy relationship, one may sought to discover loneliness, in order to gain that convoluted assurance in that one’s entirety of being is not hinged upon the existence of someone else.

These are some things that keeps me awake as the night recedes into daybreak.

Work-in-Progress

One of the paintings I worked on last weekend - the lines far too raw and the brushstrokes too careless for my liking. Unpolished, and awkward as it is, it makes quite an accurate depiction of myself. I am a Work-in-Progress.

It is not the best, but it is how I want to present myself to others, as I am. I spend a lot of my time reading, it makes the second best form of escapism to traveling. In words there are worlds we find that do not exist, our universe gets a little bigger and more interesting when you explore it in reading. Our lives are made up of stories – the ones that do not belong to us, some discovered, some made up and those you live to tell. 

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I am learning to love my works a little more by sharing them with others and getting feedback. It is an unnerving thing to put yourself out there, it feels uncomfortable and narcissistic to a certain extend. I was never quite for the idea of having a 'blog' because most people set it up with a common intention in mind. I do it not because I think that I am amazing at what I am doing, but because every piece of work is a deliberate attempt  to make something original, sharing them motivates me to make something better in my next try. It is also an exercise for me in learning to relinquish control because I am really my own worse critic. 

For me, the documentation of these works encompass the effort in crafting my personal creative endeavor and writing my own story. I hope that I can one day look back and see how much closer I am to where I want to be. I am not hopeful that what I am doing would open any doors, but I just know that doing what you love is equally important and it might make the world a better place. You would then, have a story to tell and naturally find your place in the universe. After all, like how Muriel Rukeyser has put it  "The universe is not made of atoms; it’s made of tiny stories." ☺