I have always wanted to reach success as a little girl. It started with doodles on the borders of my pages in school. By the end of class, my book edges would be darkly decorated with the ink of my pen. I was always complimented on my skills for drawing what inspires me and one day I got the opportunity to try something new. I was given the option to have my own studio graced by my parents who also saw the talent which I have possessed. Torn between schoolwork and the love of artistic pleasures I found myself sleepless one night. I was walking unknowingly into the studio room which they have gotten prepared if I should ever make up my mind.
Not tired at all I took a new paintbrush and began drawing what made me stayed up that night. I don’t know how or when but sleep granted me peace in the room I have silently longed for.
The next morning the painting I drew wasn’t there and in its place was a blank canvas. I remember how satisfied I was when I drew it last night. I was sure it was not a dream. The hardest part of it all was looking at the blank canvas, although full with possibilities, was clearly blank, staring silently back at me. Was this how it would be if I took the chance of pursuing the aspirations of an artist. I know it does not always be easy but it does not always stay hard either.
I was tormented yet another night. I have been wondering all day of the painting I drew the night before. I made my way down the hall to the studios late that night into the early morning hours. The blank canvas was still there empty as I left it that morning. Hesitantly I took up the paintbrush again and began to get lost in the spell of the white splayed with colors now, no longer looking dull. Once again I am bewildered to fall asleep without my own knowledge of how I did so. The last thing I remembered was finishing my painting and then looked upon it.
I looked again at the canvas and it was blank again. I was furious at myself and at the white canvas that was clearly mocking me now. Where could it have gone?
After school, I came home but my parents were not there. I wasn’t going to draw today either. I made my way to do my chores and made myself a sandwich. I was tired after homework and by then I could hear my parents chatting downstairs. I greeted them timidly and turned to find them watching me skeptically. Their gaze held all their questions and none I wanted to answer.
My parents unknowingly to me took it upon themselves to send my paintings abroad to have it showcased at an auction. I was furious but I appreciated the gesture.
The camera flashed in my eyes causing them to painfully squint. I was standing behind a hidden picture and moments away from releasing it to the press, hence the extravagant flashes. I remember that moment as it was yesterday when I was missing my paintings. I decided to call the collection of paintings PHANTOM DREAMS. They were always in my mind and when I painted them out only then could I have fallen asleep. I came out of my reverie as the spokesperson introduced me. I smiled widely and took his hand onto the stage. I watched back at the canvas and knew how many colors I have to exhibit. I turned to the waiting crowd and began to explain my journey of how I got here, where I was in front of them that day. After my speech, I gave a nod to the waiting men beside the painting to uncover it. Gasps were heard throughout the crowd and cheers erupted. Questions pelted like rain that day. I smiled and inhaled the success and gracefully accepted that my ambitions due to hard work and sacrifices have paid off greatly.