Many years ago, when we were still teenagers, my best friend C and I were talking about what we wanted to do when we grew up. She wanted to travel the world and I wanted to be a magazine editor. Our dreams came true, despite our various situations — she didn’t have the money to travel, and I did not hold necessary qualifications that would make me one up for the job.

I look back fondly over the last few years when I became involved with publishing, and the chances that I took when I was climbing the ladder. And somehow after four years I am wondering to myself whether it was an accidental career that chose me instead of the other way around.

After reading a post by this lady I started thinking of the various paths that I might have carved out for myself had I not been in publishing:

1. Artist/illustrator
2. Art gallery curator/owner
3. Florist
4. Pilates instructor
5. Surface designer
6. Costume designer
7. Calligrapher
8. Interior designer
9. Creative Director in an advertising agency
10. Ballet dancer

Of course, being a magazine editor was an important part of that list — I just never thought that it would end so soon (clearly by my own choice, though I had wonderful opportunities in the form of my last employer who believed in me). I just thought that it was time to move on after listening long and hard at what my heart was telling me.

I thought I was on my way, until one day as I was having lunch with a friend, R, who casually mentioned, “since it’s very clear that you love art more than writing, shouldn’t you concentrate more on your art as a means of earning a living, as opposed to writing?”

Her statement stuck with me for the longest time, because right now I freelance as a magazine/newspaper writer, and I also have a part time job as a writer/editor, along with Pikaland, which leaves me very little time for my own self-development. As my pace slowed down during these few days after weeks of rushing one deadline after the next, I am again haunted by what she had said — it made me think hard; resonating in me the missing link that I had never thought was absent in the first place.

Perhaps she was right. Maybe I am still scared of fully immersing myself in just making. Maybe it’s my fear that I might find out that I have nothing much to say or to express. Maybe I’m scared of the bills I have to pay? Or maybe I’m still just chicken? Or maybe i just need a shift in direction; a corrective measure made to my sails as I go through the murky waters of self-discovery that I’m currently bobbing about in.

p/s—what about you? Do you ever think of where you might land if you weren’t doing what you are doing right now?

It’s going to be my birthday in a couple of weeks, and it’s the first one since my marriage registration in September. This year is a year of happenings, of leaps into the unknown and of overcoming fears and adversity.

It has been a year of growth.

I’m moving into my new home by December. I now write for a few magazines and a newspaper and I have more than enough to help me through each month. I have a few wonderful projects in the pipeline that makes me anxious to start each day. I made a lot of new friends offline and online, and I’ve learned how to think more creatively ever since I’ve had to depend on myself to put food on the table.

It wasn’t easy, and I’m so grateful for all the help I’ve received. I’m sure there will be trying times ahead; roadblocks and disappointments aplenty. No one is immune, and certainly not me. But I’m finally beginning to settle into my new routine and enjoy my very packed days after the first few emotionally confusing months. Leaping off the proverbial cliff was one of the biggest fears of my life, but I know now that jumping off was the only way I could learn how to fly.

Gemma brought me out of hiding by tagging me with this meme called “Quirky but Boring Details about Yourself”.

• Link to the person who tagged you.
• Mention the rules.
• Tell six quirky yet boring, unspectacular details about yourself.
• Tag six other bloggers by linking to them. (uh, I’ve been gone so long I’m not sure if my blogger friends recognize me anymore, boo-hoo.)
• Go to each person’s blog and leave a comment that lets them know they’ve been tagged. (again, boo-hoo.)

So, here’s what you may not know about me:

1. I separate food in my mouth when I chew them (I think I wrote about this before).
2. I once got an award in university for having one of the smartest mouth ever for comeback lines and witty retorts (much to the chagrin of my lecturers).
3. I get sluggish if I don’t exercise.
4. I can read people’s minds sometimes and predict stuff. Not the lotto though, damn.
5. I don’t like people getting too physically close to me, unless I like them personally. So sometimes you see a little dance — someone would try to get into my personal space and I’d step back. This can continue for sometime before the person is aware of what I’m doing.
6. If I hear of people talking about something while I’m typing a letter/email, I unconsciously slip in a couple of the words I’ve heard and the letter turns out like gibberish. When this happens I have to check what I typed, this is why I’d rather work in a quiet place.

And there you go!

I’ve also just launched the fourth giveaway at Pikaland, and am just sitting down to see the loads of inspiration out on the web, where I cam across this tutorial for a rock baby by Resurrection Fern. Sure does make me want to whip out my crochet needle again!

Watercolor + ink on watercolor paper.

I’ve forgotten how much lines mean to me. More to come.

Well, I haven’t updated the blog in a few weeks (and a few weeks prior to that too.) So oops.

I’ve been busy putting a few things together and wrapping up ends and bits, so that unexpectedly took up a lot of time. What I did do was draw up quite a storm, and I’ve added this short story called Lost in my Etsy shop. It’s nothing too fancy — it’s in black and white — and it all started as an exercise in drawing one spread, which lead to another, and another, and pretty soon I had a very short story on my hands.

Call it a little inspiration zine if you’d like, because that’s what I had in mind when I was doodling around the idea. :)

I’ve also completed a few mini gouache paintings that was also a fun exercise, and I was so happy to explore the medium that I wonder why I didn’t discover it earlier!

Was marked with our marriage registration ceremony.

The idea of imperfection is new to me.

I thought the idea of filling up a page was so that it would make full use of space; that you should cram as much as you can into that white paper to make a statement. I thought that was the way to go.

Up until now.

I can see almost everyone around me making things to look perfect, or to achieve flawlessness. I too, am guilty of that as I am also a little perfectionist at heart. But how do perfectionists learn to be imperfect? To revel in the beauty of impermanence and of the beauty in flaws?

Do you sabotage your perfect work in order to make it look imperfect? Rearrange ideals and notions to make it “wrong”?

So many things can be said without taking up an entire sheet, and I’m not sure if I know the right words.

Try as hard as I might, I can’t stop drawing things that are considered cute.

I want my style to be edgier and crazy, but I end up with Mr Alligator Hat Salesman here most of the time instead. Sigh.

Perhaps I should just embrace it?

Yum in a can, pencil on paper + Photoshop

Apparently I can just have fun and not think too hard about the subjects for each Illustration Friday entry.

This was fun!

I love the new nibs that I bought from a local art shop. It’s very, very rare to find them — they are very old, and came all the way from England. They have etchings on them that says “Kingsley Inks Wells & Co”, with numbers that I can’t really make out.

I spent a few hours engrossed with them — dipping them into drawing ink that I got from Japan (really beautiful black, waterproof ink). I covered about 5 pages in my sketchbook and my journal.

I am in love with how organic the lines are — and how it’s easier to control than brushes. From now on, these will be my main mode of inking. And it’s hard to describe, but when I held the pen in my hand, I had this feeling that the phantom tool that I had long searched for had finally become real.