Doodles

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I used to doodle in school. A lot. Even when I was in my college, I used to draw pretty flowers on the corners of my handouts. I didn't know what I meant to accomplish but they used to give me satisfaction and even happiness. In school I used to be praised for my ability to fill in charts of paper after charts of paper with drawings and colors and pretty words to decorate the classroom. As far as I remember I used to carry the weight of all the class decoration competitions in all those years. I have even won some "art" competitions in my life. And I used to harbor a dream of becoming an "artist", which later turned into a desire to at least learn oil painting at some point in my life. These days I hardly lift a pen to draw anything. I hate even writing. On paper.

Why did I stop?

I guess I got "put to my place" when I saw other real artists and their amazing arts. When I was growing up, there was no real competition. I used to enjoy drawing and someone must have seen my drawing and sent me to drawing classes. The art teacher must have encouraged me to take part in these art competitions and so I must have won. And kept on winning for years. We didn't have Internet when we were growing up so it would be safe to say I lived a sheltered life, free from judgement and free from the notion that there might be better people out there. I wasn't really overconfident of myself, trust me, but it's just that the idea that what I was doing was meager by any standard hadn't begun to occur to me yet. I was no artist; all I could do well was make a copy of someone else's creativity. I was resourceful, yes and I could fool others but how long before I realized I couldn't fool myself forever.

Years passed on, we got access to computers, Internet, more people from around the world and I didn't have to write anymore. I also couldn't find myself neither the leisure time nor the drive to draw anymore. The last time I drew was at the front of my diary that I started writing in 2015. I have yet to finish the diary. You see, I am a sucker for perfection. And of course I don't mean to say whatever I do is perfect, far from it most of the times, and my writings are a good example of it. But my writings give me satisfaction and they give me happiness, no matter how they turn out to be. And I believe I have lost that for my drawings.




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