"Stones would play inside her head.." Neil Diamond
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This is quite a break from my cartwheeling celebration of Bella Sinclair's illustration, but such is life. There is good and bad but when one is blessed with loving and supportive family and friends, everything turns out for the better if not best. .
Our family lost two homes from fires, and again threatened to burn down my childhood home when my elementary school classmate’s family bakery caught fire and set the city with only two fire trucks into a raging inferno. My father’s photography studio burned down but he managed to save the elementary schoolbag of his best friend’s son. That boy later became a scholar at Stanford University and a professor in economics but went back to the Philippines because he did not like the American lifestyle. I remember Mother instructing all of us, this was at midnight, to get together and watch out for each other as we prepared to trek down to the river bank. Luckily this time the fire subsided but the following day I remember walking with Father surveying the devastation downtown as he photographed the smoldering debris.
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We did not have a lot of money and there were eight children in our family. My parents taught us to stand up for our rights in a society with a corrupt government where nepotism was rampant and jobs were rewarded not based on merits and ability but on one’s relations. Therefore my siblings and I had to work harder to prove ourselves. Luckily some teachers were enlightened and we managed to excel in academics, earned honors and scholarships. It was my parent’s greatest joy when all of us graduated with professional degrees and we became professors, engineers, lawyers, doctors, nurses and teachers.
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My parents advised us to be true and honest and not be pretentious. We did not have a fancy house; in fact the walls were salvaged from the previous homes. Everyone in the neighborhood had television sets, refrigerators, stereos and all those wonderful appliances. We had none. One thing we had, however, was an upstairs room full of books where instead of watching the Three Stooges or Wild Wild West, my siblings and I read the biographies and accomplishments of scientists, navigators, artists, inventors, philosophers, explorers, heroes, statesmen, great men and women and yes, even the notorious ones. I followed Panglos, Don Quixote, Phileas Fogg, Magellan and Marco Polo in their adventures. I studied the great masters' paintings from books. I pretended to be Madame Roland, Gabriela Silang or Artemis. .
When I was five years old, my first grade teacher was not very nice. In fact she was downright mean. She poked me with a hairpin on my left eye. She said it was an accident but she did not apologize. I doubt if it was ever an accident for what kind of adult would hold a hairpin on my eye level while she lectured down the aisle? The only reason that she did not bully me very much was because she knew my parents were not pushovers and actually commanded a lot of respect and admiration despite our lack of economic standing in the community. Also while sometimes I think I am smart, I am nothing compared to my siblings who therefore gave my parents the title of "the parents with the smart kids". My parents had a reputation for being honorable and did not tolerate injustice. I told my parents about the eye poking and was so afraid when my Mother went to school. I was also embarrassed because a student did not want a parent to go to the teacher or the Principal's office. After Mother's visit, the teacher did not bother me very much, but I remember she frequently made me stand in the corner for “talking back”.
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It does not take much for anyone to sense unfair treatment, even a young child recognizes it. I knew that my teacher did not like me. At the end of the school year, she awarded me with the ultimate humiliation by giving me an almost failing grade in GMRC - Good Manners And Right Conduct, which had an equal weight with academic subjects and therefore placed me on the second section for the second grade. My parents could have protested but instead they told me that sometimes life is not fair and I had to work harder.
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At night I had dreams where I was forced to swallow a stone but when I handled it, it became a huge rock. If I did not swallow it, I was told I will be pushed down the cliff or my family will be harmed. I tried swallowing the rock but I choked or my mouth could not stretch wide open so I eagerly started gnawing on the rock. Sometimes my eldest sister who let me sleep in her bed would wake me up from the nightmare and rub my back. I hated these dreams. I did not know how to explain my dream. Sometimes I would incoherently tell Mother and she told me to stop eating sweets. Nowadays, if a child told that to her parents she would probably get psychiatric counseling or be medicated.
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In the second section class I naturally became the top student. My new teacher wanted me to be transferred to the first section but I refused because the first section teacher was notorious for hitting and pinching the student. One day when our teacher was away, a boy took my schoolbag, opened and searched it despite my protestations. He just mocked me. He was the class bully and was not very smart. I was very angry but after all my warnings went unheeded, I gathered all my strength and slammed his head against the door jamb not once but several times. The class stood in horror as they watched this petite second grader tackle the class bully. His head was bleeding.When the teacher came, she summoned for the boy's parents so they can take him to the hospital for sutures. She waited to call my parents. I explained my actions to my teacher. She asked the other big boys why they did not stop the fight and they answered back "We did but...she was so strong". The teacher was very quiet. She called my parents and made me sit down by her desk.
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I was so shocked. I was not sent to the principal’s office. My teacher spoke to my parents and the boy’s parents but I was not punished. Mother just told me to use violence as a last resort and only when I or my siblings were physically threatened. No one in school dared to bother me ever again, no one. I loved going to school, even if I disliked schoolwork and studying. Most of my classmates and teachers liked me, even the principals. I received several outstanding student awards and represented my schools in academic meets and scouting events. I eventually stopped dreaming about the rock.
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I look at my teeth in the mirror and I have beautiful straight teeth, courtesy of modern dentistry. There is no more rock to gnaw but sometimes I habitually grind my teeth. In fact I do it when I draw. My children can sometimes see my temporomandibular joint move and are amused by it. I have to wear a mouth guard.
She said I illustrated a hurricane instead of something breezy. She must know what she's talking about because she lives in a typhoon belt. So here's something light and breezy. Literally. This was supposed to be simple based on the view outside my office window, see the photographs below. The birds provided an aerial ballet show for me. I have always admired the trees that line the bayou. I thought I'd draw the view. At lunchtime instead of eating, I went to the cafe patio to draw a little bit before I resumed my hectic schedule. It was very breezy. After fifteen minutes, I gave up and went back upstairs. Alas, the
wind blew the drawing away. The only way for me to prevent the drawing from being lost was to step on it. So now there were shoe prints on the drawing. Instead of a simple line drawing, I decided to cover the entire board with ink. I initially called this "Twelve Angry Men" but with more foliage, it is turning into a park. If you click on the image at right to enlarge it, you will be able to see the actual size of the human and animal figures.
