I paid a visit to the art centre where I met two Malaysian artists who became my art teachers. The sight of their artworks triggered memories. I saw many brushes with dried ink and it made me wonder if some of them might have been used during those days when I was a student there. I still remember where the table used to be and where my teacher used to sit. I have mixed feelings as I stood outside, reminiscing. I’m so thankful that God allowed our paths to cross and my meeting her had been somewhat of a catalyst, pushing me to pursue my dreams in the field of fine arts. No doubt, the question one of my teachers asked me was, “so, you want to be an artist?” I nodded.
The years have opened my eyes to many things including the difficulty in reaching that level of recognition. So, I still hope that I will be alive when people start to appreciate my artworks but perhaps I might even pass down my skills to the next generation.
When I was at a glass museum, scribbling something on a piece of glass, one of the ladies asked me if I’m an artist. My reply to her was “yes” and I felt a deep sense of joy and peace in my heart – knowing that it’s what God created me to be. I might never be as famous as Monet but like what my late teacher said many years ago, I will have my own style of painting.
There’s still so much I want to learn from her but she’s already passed away. If I should teach art in the future, I would want to teach the way she taught me…wholeheartedly.