That’s what we named my beloved home, tucked away from the heart of the city in a quiet but soon to be bustling township. I finally moved back from the epitome of entertainment and stress-induced 24/7 playground to my laid-back hometown after more than a decade away.
It is quite an adjustment to be surrounded by the cares of family again. Nothing beats home-cooked food, less chores and lots more idle time on my hands. However, I am still trying to get used to waking up to chirpings of birds instead of heavy traffic blaring. No more late nights with friends over coffee and wine. No more people watching on the human jam-packed train we call the LRT.
I feel like a retired old soul. Sometimes I wonder if this is good or bad. There’s definitely ample time to do reading, writing and painting or at least more than I used to have. These are luxuries I hardly could indulge in due to long hours of work and socialising. What’s left of ‘me’ time would be thrown into occasional penning of journal to keep my soul alive, murmurings of prayers and BED time. The young people would call it living the life instead of writing about it.
Life’s definitely slower and almost uneventful this side of the country. Should I be thankful for it? I’ve rediscovered the simple pleasure of reading till my eyes bulge and not be concerned about my next socialising/networking agenda. With far less friends here since I’ve been gone for more than one third of my life, I sought solace in my own company.
Imaginations excite me from reading to conjuring up characters in both my writings and paintings, whether or not I have an audience or merely for my own personal enjoyment. Perhaps now is the time to take both my arts of images and words into another level. Turn the volume up!
I am thrilled as a child again over stories jumping out from books I’ve always wanted to read but never found time to. I’ve just finished ‘The Bear Boy’ by Cynthia Ozick and Oscar Wilde’s ‘The Picture of Dorian Gray’. Both kept me going like a child reading the ‘Famous Five’ wishing to be one of the crazy detectives solving some unheard of mysteries. I absolutely loved the flowery words from Oscar. I am still haunted by the evil deeds described so horrendously vivid by Oscar, sending me praying not to end up like Dorian. The Bear Boy was a different engagement. Every chapter was refreshing and whatever you would have guessed turned out in a twisted manner and that’s what made it interesting although the ending could be altered with a bit more happiness. Readers after all, like me love a happy ending.
Away from the crowd, perhaps my arts can truly become alive. What was a hobby could perhaps be more. Villa Maria is to me now not just a home but possibly, the perfect writing and arts residency.
Wish me all the best, will you?
I guess for a start, I do have an exhibition coming up next ;) Do read the previous post about it.