This is my entry for Illustration Friday's "Soaked" prompt. I prefer its synonym. I am not going to pretend anymore. There is a tinge of sadness in my heart. I long to see my sisters and brothers.
There is an empty space in my heart and I am not going to fool myself into believing that just because I am surrounded by my loving family, my beloved husband and beautiful adoring children, that is enough. My longing cannot be replaced.
I miss my brothers and sisters. I even miss our family grave where my parents' remains lay buried. I miss the home where I grew up. No, I do not want to go back and uproot my family here and live there. I love being an American. I hate the political atmosphere in the Philippines, inherent with corruption and while they staged the first successful People's Revolution, most Filipinos are copacetic, the politicians exploit that trait. My family and friends struggle to make ends meet there and I am too vocal, expressive and pessimistic, I will wither if I lived there. But I love my brothers and sisters, so much it hurts. I miss them terribly so. I have become a masochist.
We have drought down here! bring in the rain!!! Well, not at disastrous levels.
L to R: The Goddesses of disasters: Bagyo-bagyo (Typhoon), Ba'ha (Flood) and Ulan and Monsoon (Rain and Monsoon) Pen and ink on 9"x12" Bristol boards.
Summer. Part of the Seasons Series. Each panel is in Pen and ink on 9"x12" Bristol Board. If you click to enlarge, you may find the Fiesta carafe in every panel.
This morning I woke up to my brothers' delightful post titled "Installing Adobe Flash Player on the Amd64 bit Ubuntu 11.04 Natty Narwhal" followed by:
I would be a liar, a fake and a flake if I told you I understand it. Yet reading his technical posts soothe me like a prayer. Growing up, my brother and I were very close. Not only did I love him, I actually liked him very much. I ferociously watched out for him because he was a gentle and peaceful boy. So I fought off the bullies for him that garnered me the title, Tomboy. I hated being called a tomboy. I just wanted to be called a strong girl.
This is the front of our parents' home. It is the home where I grew up from age ten until I left for college. It is the place I call home when I say I am going home to the Philippines. There is a gated wall which one can't see because it is completely obliterated by these plants and flowers. The gate is by the electric post.
When I lived there I remember a lush garden inside the walls. That is why I drew these images below, from memory. It is how I remembered my mother's garden. I wonder what kind of memories my children will have when they grow up and when I am gone. I hope they will be happy and loving memories. I hope they will long to come home to the place they call home, wherever it is, it is the place that stirs happiness from within.
Elma, The Mother Hen. Pen and Ink on 9"x12" Bristol Board. Elma and Maes were the original sources of our chickens and eggs when I was growing up.
The Cock, Ma-es. 9"x12" Pigment ink on Bristol Board. A few memories from my childhood: elephant tusk and bird of paradise plants, yellow bells, aka Esperanza, cadena de amor, bamboo, Movie Snap pictured on the photograph image on right lower corner, a roll of photographic negative, banana peel, egg shell (I am learning to walk on eggshells) used to cap the elephant tusk - we thought it made them grow taller and straight. Now I know why my mother did that. I read about the plant characteristic called phototropism. The sensors that influence the plant's ability to grow in the direction of the light are stored in their tips.