A starving artist's desk I have a vague memory of reading somewhere that being a ‘starving artist’ is no longer a thing ~ unfortunately, it is, still for me LOL. And that’s something that’s been brought home to me this year more vividly than it ever has been in my long and uneventful life.
Honestly, if it hadn’t been for God, my dad, and my brother, I wouldn’t be writing this jillablog post now (or even have a website to post it on) at my desk in the lavish (for me) comfort of the jillahouse. God willing, things will work out somehow, steadily, and soon ~ until I get all four feet back under me again. But for now, I couldn’t help taking a quick and humorous look at what being a penniless painter has led me to do ~ even during the times I could actually afford to throw insane (for me) amounts of moolers away on paint and things. I guess I don’t have an Ilocano dad for nothing. To be clear, I am grateful for having such a father because his prudence not only made it possible for me and my six siblings (and then some) to go to good schools, go on holidays overseas, take up music and martial arts and basically never have to work a day in our lives until we graduated. It also gave us (or well most of us, anyway) the insane work ethic that made it possible for me to do what I’m doing now ~ which is basically work my hindquarters off so I can continue to create. Anyway so you’ll understand (I hope) why I end up doing these weird things because where I come from, pesos (and paint) don’t grow on trees. (Doesn’t make these any less weird, though ^^)
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