//Monochromatism//

:Acrylic and house paint on canvas:Inspired by the idea of monochromacy.

I got tired of my bare whitewashed walls at home and thought,
'Better do something before the dad does something.
He can be a teeny bit too "creative" at times'. Very unpredictable.

Excuse Me Lil'Ms.Fit

:excuse me:
Drew some, snapped some, executed one.

Burn Baby Burn

: Lashez on Wood in grayscale:

Line drawing on a wooden board. Stained with soot and very simple
(Tried wiping the stain off but I was afraid the ink might come off man)
Still, I think it deserves a place on my blog as space fillers,
for the sake of updating this blog.

Toucan Toucan Bo Moucan

: Toucan Scribbled Montage :

Was in the mood to customise my desktop background.
Toucans, I assumed, would make a good head start.
Photoshop, drawn, scribbles, scanned and so on...

Little Miss Stubborn

When I was a little girl...
I asked my gramma to eat trash coz
she irritates me
When I was a little girl...
I pushed my grampa so
he would quicken his pace

When I was a little girl...
I lied for the first time and
had chillies shoved up my mouth

When I was a little girl...
I got too creative
my mom asked me to clean
the drawings off my neighbours' door

When I was a little girl...
I got too smart
my dad beat the hell out of me
I didn't speak to him for hours
When I was a little girl...
I wanted to run away
I packed my clothes in a piece of cloth and
tie it to the end of a stick

When I was a little girl...
I dreamt I could fly
I jumped down a flight of ten steps
causing five stitches on my forehead

When I was a little girl...
I was testing my leadership skills
I taught my younger siblings how to
climb the window grill

When I was a little girl...
I ran after a shower
I slipped and fell on my front teeth

When I grew up...
I looked back and realised my mom
must have exaggerated some details,
she made me sound worse than a lil' brat

Kanina.

Dishevelling, disbelieving and nerve wrecking. What a day, what a day, what a mighty lousy day. I almost knocked a man down. What atrocity. The horror! But I have to admit, I am exaggerating a little, especially when I mentioned ‘I almost knocked a man down’. I wasn’t the driver, the brother-in-law was. We were moving at moderate speed when a man crossed the road slowly as if he was the almighty. Matted in super heroic proportions, the bro-in-law stepped on the brakes just in time to see the almost so-called accident victim breezed away spouting curses to us all. My mom almost passed out, my sis was speechless, a total opposite of her flamboyant self and I practically saw my heart pounced out of my chest, onto the granite road, rolling passed the double yellow line still beating at remarkable speed, crying. Fucking cibai, we almost hit the bastard, but it was definitely not our fault and neither was my brother-in-laws driving skills not up to the road safety’s capacity. He's a pro for gods sake. The bugger appeared out of nowhere. Even a ‘blind’ girl like me could see that the fault lies in the nutcase. Imagine the worst case scenario, the nutcase lying on the road in a pool of blood and witnesses swarming around like bees. That would have caused traffic jams and I immensely despised slow traffic. Seriously, I could not care less what comes after. Imagine the questions. The bugger deserves it. If I was driving, I would have stormed out of the car with a crowbar, knock the fugly bugger on his head, give him a piece of my mind, ”KAU BUTA KE!” and some tips on how to “widen your eyes” before jay walking. WHAT AN IDIOT! A pity. It would have been fun watching my brother-in-law screwing the bugger with myself as back up. I am such a hoodlum. Sheesh am I all shook up of what might have happened. Worse, witnessing an accident is bad enough, but being involved in one would have been…frightful? Another adventurous day? Perhaps. Fortunately nothing happened and the day goes on without a flaw. Tra la la.

Soiree...

: Cenderawasih. Black, Turquoise, Gold.
A special request for a friends' bday soiree. HAPPY BIRTHDAY PEEPS! :
NOTE to beeyol buggers: This is just for show on my blog, not an invitation to the soiree, capice!

Random Upload

:Uploaded random project(s) for the sake of updating this dormant blog:

Hikmah

Nightmare. Definition. A dream based loosely on feelings of intense fear, horror, and distress. An event or experience that is intensely distressing. A demon or spirit once thought to plague sleeping people. I believe, in my own little way, that it is a subconscious reflection of a deep thought and/or impression of an entity or event. Of which this statement is in question. ‘We cannot prevail what we cannot predict’. Or can we? Strange things have been happening to me of which I cannot decipher. Dreams I cannot fathom. Nightmares? Or perhaps visions. Prayers alone will not suffice. Dreams of a burning house, or an accident of which seemed realistic and probably surreal can also be true either partially or whole. Once I disregard these petty dreams as child’s play but regarding it ‘petty’ is a misnomer. Though a tendency of dreams being forgotten is high, a dejavu never fails to occur now and then. Enigmatic. I never thought of myself as a seer or one who sees divination. Clairvoyance? Not even when my visions became true of which I feel remorseful. One would conclude the fact that I am probably endowed with profound moral and spiritual insight. But I would prefer it to be mere coincidence no matter the counts. Lets not discuss it specifically. The dogmas of the stormy past are inadequate to the quiet present. The urge to tell the tale was decent, at least only for the ones closest to me.

An old friend once told me that in your sleep, red symbolizes a warning. In addition to the dream I had of fire, envisioning red last before my assets engulfed in flames in a matter of minutes was a shocker. Life seemed so cruel at that point. Withdrawn, melancholy, oblivious and depressed, isolation was the best solution. And for once in my life, I have never felt so despondent, vulnerable and lost that I was unsure of my own strength in overcoming the holocaust. It seemed beyond my capacity. The urge to cry was inevitable but even a single tear at that pivotal moment could have shattered someone’s heart when you are considered the pillar of strength. A shoulder to cry on was badly needed, a scream would have sufficed, and a hug would have been sufficient but my pathological narcissism flared up in time to give me a quarter strength not to falter, at least, not in front of the loved ones.

Hikmah. It means wisdom in Arabic. Was commonly conveyed by relatives and friends for comfort or to express sympathy at times like this. People believe that with each downfall, comes great wisdom. There is a reason to everything and good things are never far behind. As nonchalant as I can be at times, I believe it to be precise. Though almost all was lost, life itself took a better turn thankfully, and my karma moderately skyrocketed henceforth. To me, it takes a holocaust to know the limitations of your strength, the bonds of a family and your true friends.

For the compassion, loyalty and love, for being my pillar of strength, for keeping my feet on the ground, and for showing me that nothing is impossible in this world, I truly salute. Hearts out to the strongest person I have ever known, one whom I greatly respect and for being the nicest most understanding person in my entire life, my mom.

Its Definition

In the sense, "sequence of sensations passing through a sleeping person's mind," probably related to "dream(s)," perhaps from "deception, illusion, phantasm" to deceive or delude a ghost and/or apparition. Possible cognates outside - "seek to harm, injure, lie, deceive." But dream(s) meant only joy, mirth and possibly music. Common words for "sleeping vision". Much study has failed to prove that dream is the root of the modern word for "sleeping vision," despite being identical in spelling. Either the meaning of the word changed dramatically or "vision" was an unrecorded secondary meaning of dream, or there are two separate words here. It seems as if the presence of dream of joy, mirth and music, had caused dream(s) to be avoided, at least in literature. "Sleep" was hence used as a substitute. I remarkably discovered that dream(s) in the sense of "ideal or aspiration" was first abbreviated in 1931, from earlier sense of "something of dream, like beauty or charm". Dreamy in the sense of "full of dreams;" abbreviated in 1941 as "perfect, ideal." Dreamboat "a romantically desirable person" is from 1947. Dreamscape was first used in 1959, in a Sylvia Plath poem.

Hellaciously Upset

Consider myself a part-time illustrator. Creative designer by day, illustrator by night. Doing it all at my own risk. Dark eye rings are my sisters now. Computers are my bestfriends. Though I am not a full on illustrator (I prefer advertising), I try to be whenever I can find the time. A hobby more likely. I am definitely not a street artist. I believe that interest, knowledge and experience in graffiti, writing, etc, are its fundamentals. Talent and creativity if I may add, are also two of the main key elements of the makings of a true street artist. In fact it applies to everything. Know your nozzle! I am hellaciously upset that some people who has no artistic value and has the creativity of a foetus wishes to even draw a straight line and be in the limelight. Get another life! Stand behind the yellow line and view without touching. Stop pretending that you know a damn thing about the whole sordid subject. If someone says "Your work's allright" or "There is still room for improvement", they are actually being nice and truly meant "Oh my, that's horrendous!" or "It's not working for you and I truly am not sure how to put it nicely to you but you HAVE GOT TO CONSIDER ANOTHER LINE" Bah! Just read between the lines. Have a heart to those with original talent that has yet to be unveiled. I appreciate entities making the efforts to expose these hidden talents by ways unimaginable. Big hugs*. Lets purge those posers.

Flora

Flora no fauna. Invite for a friend's birthday bash.

Why a babys' torso? No idea, the bestfriend conceived the idea.
Media: Illustration & Digital Imaging - Photoshop

Misadventures of a coffee junkie

So, what happens if I lose enthusiasm for all communications at work? Answer: Pause whatever Im doing, take out the sketchbook, start doodling for a while, doze off and drool. Seriously, this is what I do. It is condonable though. Clients get on my nerves sometimes. Another thing that bugs me. Why do kids like to show off their new toys? Do they get satisfaction out of it? At the expense of other clueless kids who seem envious of their good fortune? Good fortune? Bah! It is pretty selfish and ignorant. Frankly, I doubt anyone cares. Stop it already. How can they tell if their toy is significant enough to be a gem (think Star Wars)? Usually, time and rarity signifies its value. For now, it's the fun of having something new that's causing the adrenalin rush. Little buggers. They sure grow up fast. Weekends are my favourite days of the week. And I strongly believe that waking up at 7am on either days is a cardinal sin. Nincompoopish? Not really. It's commonsense. Goodness, I seemed schizophrenic. But these seemd like ill-fated thoughts that is worth pondering on. Ill-fated? Nah. Misadventures perhaps. I saw the light and walked into it. Reincarnation seemed inevitable after, and yet, I am a coffee junkie still. *sheesh* And she rambles on and on and on....