The Empty Canvas

Major anxiety attack.

It should be easy. I can do it in my sleep. I've done three of them. But who am I fooling? This show is the hardest ever and (heaven forbid that you read this Mr. Hilario hehehe) I have yet to finish a coherent piece for an exhibit in October.

Major downpour. Ayos lang, it's only water. Needing some space, I had to leave my studio (if you can call it that - four walls and a bed and some books and some art materials and stuff.)

And where do I end up but a net cafe? Irony of ironies. Arrgh how many times in a day will I check my email? And how often will I have to carry around this darn book? Props, props, props. My painting's still waiting...


But major surprise.

What are you doing here?

I didn't count on all this. I didn't realize it could feel this good. I feel like I'm floating at sea and I could just float forever...


Why do you make me feel this way?