I started drawing with my father as soon as I was old enough to hold a pencil (what is old enough for me? 12 months? *teehee*). In preschool, I felt a little awkward and embarassed because I was already sketching things in 3D, while my classmates were struggling to draw stick people. I can still vividly remember my rendition of the flame and the partially melted ice cube with a wet pool around it (thanks to Daddy -- whose idea of playtime and bonding time was the Drawing Guessing Game, way before Pictionary came out). I still do the drawing guessing game with little kids. I think we need to tap into their creative, inferential and expressive skills early on. It matters a lot to shaping one's character for later in life.
Sadly, all my sketchbooks and sketchpads of two decades (including those that were on exhibit for a time when I was in the university) were never returned to me -- even threatened to be burnt and are perhaps really ashes by now -- after a previous relationship has gone awry. I still don't know what came of them.
So I have nothing much to show now, only lessons learned. And a testimony of the truth that...LIFE GOES ON. Art prevails! And this site is a form of my commitment to find time to create works of art again inspite of my busy schedule.
Though I'm not the best in the world, I'm proud of my works because this hobby (and skill) is one of the most special things that connect me to my DADDY who still sketches wonderful drawings up to this day. Though he and I are geographically apart now, like a secret magic thread, this language ties our hearts together. Tightly.
The artist one day falls through a hole in the brambles, and from that moment he is following the dark rapids of an underground river which may sometimes flow so near to the surface that the laughing picnic parties are heard above. Cyril Connolly