My five-star studio (282 square feet)

I feel a little anxious every time I walk into my studio.

Like a diver standing on a platform who is waiting to jump, in those ten seconds…

“Do I jump?”

“Yes.”

“Am I good enough?”

“Will someone kick the door down, push me against the wall, accuse me of fraudulent behaviour and tell me that I’m not obliged to say anything but whatever I say may be used as evidence!?”

Eventually, these thoughts will recede like a tide until the following day, when my head is back in turmoil.

The ebb and flow of a tide like this scares me.

When I look at the paintbrushes, paints, canvases and scraps of paper scattered around within these four walls, I start to think: What I am currently doing will eventually exist in the corner of someone’s mind on a particular month and day, won’t it? This is what I am trying to do. Right?

The memories have disappeared, but the emotions remain, lingering. When I close my eyes, I can still smell and hear the background noise of those images.

I gaze down at the colours left on the ground. I have no choice but to see them as a single event or a one-time act.

When did we last meet? Alright then.

The ground contains a variety of intersecting hints and emotions that form an artwork of hidden messages.

Like studying an ancient language no one can speak anymore, I unravel all the possibilities lying within, one colour at a time.

I must hurry up and tell your story.

Before the tide drowns me again.

I sincerely apologise and deeply thank my pitiful and perplexed paintbrushes, paints, canvases and drawing paper once more. I will continue to use you with great effort.

Even in failure, even when looked down upon, carry on happily. I think that is a great way to keep yourself going.

Okay?

“Everything is as pretty as you are and as ugly as you are

It isn’t what is in front of you but everything that's inside you.”