MUSINGS OF A SOMETHING, SOMETHING

When I was in fourth grade, I knew what I wanted to be. A journalist. During summer vacation, I remember tearing away pages in my notebook that have been written on and keeping the blank ones. Then I would write stories on the blank pages. I don’t remember what stories I have written, but I do remember showing them to my dad. That was when he said, “Anak, I think you’re going to be a journalist when you grow up.”

In high school, my Tita Mary gave me a sketch pad. It was just a bunch of bond paper with green covers done in perfect binding. But I treasured that sketch pad. I would bring it to school every day, and while waiting for the teacher to arrive, I would draw my favorite cartoon characters on it. Sometimes, when the school bus was late, that sketch pad kept me busy. I must say I did some pretty neat pictures on that sketch pad, so I said to myself, “Maybe I could become an artist!”

But that didn’t happen after high school. I went to the State University for a degree in Biology (for this I give credit to my former teacher Miss Paez), but I didn’t get it. Somehow, I knew I wasn’t really cut out for that. Deep inside, I still wanted to become an artist.

A few years after another degree, I landed a job as an editorial assistant for my Mom’s favorite magazine. Finally, I was living my dream of becoming a journalist! I got to cover the Art & Culture and Entertainment beats, interviewed men and women celebrities. It was a very exciting job, and a very exciting year for me. After that, I became editor of my favorite magazine, and stayed for five years.

When I left the publishing world to go into fulltime community work, I found myself designing banners and brochures, covers of manuals and annual reports, as well as single-handedly putting together a quarterly newsletter. I began to dabble into web designing and video editing, too. And just recently, I got involved in the layout and design of a major coffee table book. Wow! It was just too much! Now, I’m an artist, too!

Looking back, I find it odd that I had fulfilled my first dream 11 years after high school, and my second dream nine years later. I keep thinking, had I been an artist since then, I could have been filthy rich by now, with all the money in graphic arts and advertising. I am forever wondering why God allowed me to realize my life dreams only now. It has been my frustration that I didn’t go into visual arts when I was in school. And for a long, long time, that dream of becoming an artist has buried under all those frustrations. Sometimes, I kick myself for not being brave enough to shift to Fine Arts or Visual Communications when I was in college.

But wait, all is not lost. I can still do that, can’t I? I can still go back to art school! My heart’s desire never left me after all! Now, instead of calling myself a frustrated artist, I could say I’ve resurrected the artist in me.

Stand back, folks. It’s time to make my dreams come true.