31.3.08

My Childhood Ambitions

Weight/Family

I am about to graduate in four months, if I am lucky with my thesis. Hopefully by July all the school weights will be lifted from my shoulder, or shoulders in this case, because I have been carrying this with my both hands, even with all my body, and my parents’ body, and my grandparents’ body, and my aunt’s body.

Question/Clue

In this kind of situations, it is so typical that people will be asking this one question. This question is like a key question or a mandatory questions for people like me. Sometimes people do mean to ask you this and the answer would definitely be interesting for them. There are also some who ask this question in a social context. But I still do appreciate both, and I always answer this question with all my heart. Although what I mean by ‘with all my heart’ is actually ‘I don’t know yet’ or merely a ‘Let’s see!’. I think those just describe enough my real situation now.

They ask me about my plan, ‘so, what are you doing next? Are you staying in Holland or going back?’. I sometimes don’t know why these two questions sound so complicated. One of course is because I really have no idea about the future, which makes me not able to really answer it. Second of all, the one that I am afraid of, I might actually not know what I really want to do. That is I think why.

Perception/Different.

Probably millions of people out there know already what they actually want to do, or at least have dreams about it already. Me, is the opposite. I am definitely not talking about me being so absurd not knowing what I want to do. I am also not talking about me doing nothing after I graduate. I am also definitely not talking about taking master’s degree, because I have no money or no rich person or company that would like to pay my study, besides I am also not that much of a genius person. So that is not an option.

What I meant by the opposite way is about me giving shot to every possible direction. About me letting myself to be taken by every opportunity coming. It is also about me learning everything out there, not filtering the world yet, until I really know what I really want. Until I really know my real capabilities. Until I know which field I should be in to be a rich person. Well, to be quiet frank, by the end of the day, it is all about the money, and then of course about self-satisfaction.

Ambition/Dream.

As a child I did have some ambitions. I could even say that those are still in my head now. I still remember, there are two wishes. For your information, I actually wrote those down for my scholarship submission paper about four years ago. One, I want to be a good housewife. Second, I want to own an orphanage. I don’t know how on earth I could make it on that scholarship program with those two dreams, but I did make it. And I too don’t know, how am I studying here in Holland, with those two dreams are kept in my mind.

Dream/Challenge.


My next question for myself would be, how could I reach my childhood dream, plus all the dreams that I have been collecting along the way. They include Audi A3, apartment without garden, dark brown leather coat, feminine appearance which I found a bit cliché sometime ago, be the breadwinner of the family, be a successful working wife, be a daughter of a happy family, be a mother without giving birth, make people around me happy, be happy. I am not finished here with my list. But they are just too much to mention. But from here you know that I only want to be just like other people’s wish, be happy.

Next step/Future


So I am here now, four months before my graduation, with my plan of giving shot to every opportunity coming. As usual, as I always say..

‘Make the most out of Everything’.

So, by the end of my day I would not be disappointed for not trying. I might look like a generalist. Yet, instead I would say that I am a learner.

Goal/End

Happy.

28.3.08

A short dialogue with a Painter

He was once a businessman, running a quite successful small business in Holland. He is married with 2 children, Jessica and Marteen. He woke up every morning, went downstairs for a cup of coffee and made pancakes for the children. On the lazy days, he stayed upstairs faking his sleep to let his wife, Rieke, fed the children. He loved his life more than anything. He loved his routines. He loved his stressful work and to see his secretary having a secret affair with a guy on the 2nd floor. He loved his weekends in the garden during spring with his children, with his mother overlooking them from the veranda. It was obvious when people saw him walking in the neighborhood, or walking through the office corridor, or in the supermarket busy with his plastic bags, or just jogging around the corner, they definitely would say 'a good life is his life' and that always left a slight smile on their faces.

Until one day, on Wednesday morning, in a windy spring. It was no way an ordinary wind that day. That day trees were down, people are sent home and forced to be home, no school and children playing outside, instead of blossom flower, the wind took the flower along. For him it was like the other business day. He was on the way to a business appointment. He took his car. He listened to his new U2, and did not turn his news-switcher on, that made him isolated from the latest news. He was on the road, 80km/h, and it was raining cats and dogs. The phone suddenly was ringing, once, twice, third times, and....

still. silence was all over him. silentness. mute. nothing.

Three weeks after that, all he knew was that something bad happened that day. How, when, what, no one knew exactly. The doctor said that there were some damages with his skull that had impacted his way of thinking. That made working in a company was no longer an option. For him, for his family, for his company too, that day was the longest day of his life.

He was then referred to a psychiatrist, and spent hours of talking with him. About life, love, money, past, future, children, mother, any single thing he could think about. One day he was asked to stop seeing the psychiatrist and left with a single piece of advice, "find your hobby to make yourself happy again".

It was the most absurd thing he ever heard. He hated the psychiatrist for leaving him, for letting him thought that life is hard again, even harder. He then stayed home. He started watching TV. boring. He moved to radio. boring. He started with photography. Too expensive after a while. Then cooking. Tasteless. Then reading. His eyes got tired after thousands of books and his brain got full. Then music. Still music. Stayed a while in the music. Pretty good one. Then he got inspiration to paint. Red. Blue. Green. Lines. Circles. People. People. Women. Monster. Anything. He fell in love, with painting.

He continued going back and forth a hobby shop around the corner to buy another canvas, sometimes the guy gave him something for free. Black canvas, new type of acrylic, painting books, story about painting, some brushes, even glass palette. His painting started to make his small apartment full of his painting. He then started to go around the neighborhood to sell his painting. To a tall guy with a nerd daughter. To a former business partner, he sold a big one. To an artist who is a cousin of his former supplier. To his children's teacher. He gave three also to his children's school. One to the city library, the darkest one because he thought the library was too colorful. One, the one with a lot of yellow on it, to his mother, because he thought his mother shines for some reasons. And one, the one he liked the most, he wrapped that for his 14th marriage anniversary, and gave it as a surprise present to his wife.

He enjoys painting.

It has been five years since those days. Now, he lives in Belgium in a small city about three hours from Holland. He paints for living, with a title of 'Levenskunstenaar' stated on his brochure and business card. He does abstact most of the time, with people as the centre of the story. He is invited by big companies to paint for them. His creations now are hung on companies' wall. He paints around 40 paintings every year. His life is back. Some differences here and there. No fake sleep anymore. No 9-5 in the office. No secretary. No weekdays and weekends. His days are just days, where he can work on the weekends and sleep on the weekdays. Although those are not parts of his life anymore, 4 people are still the same, Rieke, Jessica and Marteen. Once again, smile has been brought to his, their life. Once again people look at them and say 'a good life is his life', with an additional thought of 'when you can do what you love to do'.

He is back on business, without supplier, without partner, without office. Just the business. He calls his new life, an enjoyable life.

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This story is based on a short dialogue with an artist, Pim Smit, who told me to not think when I start paint, in Eindhoven, while he was painting in a food court during lunch hour, on a windy shiny spring of Holland.