Let the story unfolds..... (Intro part I)

I know that art is my forte, and I'm proud of it - not in conceited-snobbish manner, but in self-celebrating kind of way. And I stick to it no matter what people say because I immensely believe in myself. Now when I reminisce about my childhood, It made a clear sense to me why I wasn't prominent at school.

In primary school, I was a rather obnoxious brat with dual personality - masculine (rule breaking, peer taunting & fighting) & feminine (drawing female manga characters with big eyes, sharp nose, luscious lips wrapped up in fashionable clothes & enjoying girls companions) who's average on pretty much all of the academic subjects except one, drawing. Yes, a subject deemed so easy & unessential at the time, I tremendeously excelled in it. Hence, It became my favourite subject. It's the only class I enjoyed - so much I often forgot about the time. Ideas, concepts, colours, compositions, light & shade were all spilled onto a piece of paper through crayon or coloured pencils. Excitement, enthusiasim, focus & concentration accompanied the process.

At home, twice a week, I would have a drawing teacher tutoring me along with other students who mostly consist of my relatives. I also had a penchant for writing a round, big, beautiful hurut latin (our term of latin alphabet). Whenever I felt unsatisfied with the result, I would cover it with correction pen and rewrite it. I would repeat the process until I get the perfect outcomes (a slight symptom for OCD - Obsessive Compulsive Disorder ).

In junior high school, my love affair with fashion begun. Donned in cream-coloured hoodie parachute vest, white shorts and a pair of white runners, the feeling was unmistakeable - it was love at the first sight (of my outfits in the mirror). I felt dope. Looking at it now, it'd be cringe-worthy to the absolute. The epiphany act as a big wake up call to my inner fashion monster that was dormant for long. With fashion, I'd also found one part of my identity.

Senior high school was pretty mundane. I still hadn't figured out what I was good at, which group of people I belonged to, what sort of person I aspired to be and how I wanted to live my life. Most academic subjects remain uninteresting to me although there would be occasional topics of such that spark my interest. English was one of my favorites regardless my broken grammar. As with fashion, I became more daring dressing up, nonchalantly ignoring my ballooning weight - as if I had no problem in the scale department. I was very unapologetic about my look to the extend where some people would see me startlingly yet too afraid to throw verbal critics. I didn't know where my confidence came from. It just appeared suddenly when I put on clothes just like the light bulb that beams after the wires being plugged into the power point. "I look fierce!" shout my mind, whenever my reflection came in the mirror.

*Continue to part II