My life has always been a blur to me. I can never remember anything significant in my life until several years later. It is as if my mind doesn’t want me to remember the present but only the past. So let me backtrack for a minute. When I was an elementary school kid, I always had weird dreams at night. Most of my dreams end up repeating itself like twice a year. I once had a dream of going to an abandon hotel apartment with a group of people. I walked inside with the rest of the group and all I saw was complete darkness. I noticed that every time I look away, a few people are missing and I’m in a different setting but still in the same building. The entire scene reminded of the TV series Goosebumps, where I walk through the creepiest places and end up running for my life to get away from the mysterious voices. I was petrified yet excited at the same time since I always go back into that building. My dreams could be classified as nightmares, but I consider them to be my greatest childhood adventures. In the real world, I was always the shy, smart, neatly dressed girly girl that never really got dirty, neither bruises, scrapes, or broken limbs. I tended to be extremely reserved and was always afraid to take chances, since I tried to be the “perfect child” that any mother can ever have. The day I turned eight changed a little bit in the course of my childhood. Two months after my birthday, I attended to this summer camp that looked like an old valley ranch with salons, cabin homes, and a bunch of countrymen. I remembered playing a whole bunch of games like tag and tetherball; making crafts (creating lanyards was a huge hit, since the only way to be in a cool group is if you make one); making our own homemade beef jerky; and doing many science experiments (especially making fuel for our paper rocket). After a week of fun, the other kinds and I (along with our counselors) rode back home on the big yellow school bus. My mother told me that the time I first came back from summer camp, my grandmother stood firmly on the pavement of the parking lot in front of the bus making sure I was on that bus in one piece. When I came out, she looked at me with a little smirk on her face and told me, “Ooh! Let’s get home so you can take a bath.” My mother, on the other hand, thought to herself happily, “YES!!!” since she knew if I get dirty then it means I had fun. The time I turned thirteen was a huge part of my life. I felt much more different than when I was twelve, and I knew then that my kid days were over. Few months after I turned thirteen, my mother got married the second time. I felt all grown up with my hair done in a fancy hairdo, my face splattered in airbrushed makeup, wearing my handmade maid-of-honor gown, and wearing a pair of my one-inch heals. I haven’t felt more like an adult until my mother’s special day. As I look back on these childhood memories, I realized how those events shaped my life now. It’s not that I have never been independent, but now I feel more confident in my independency. I know I am allowed to express myself through the eyes of my mind, but I never knew how powerful my ideas could be. Now that I think of this, I never thought my dreams could influence my creativity level in my artwork. I am usually inspired by the adventures I have had in my life. I love to explore to many places whether it’s across the street from my house or all the way to Tokyo, Japan. Just look around your “world” inside and out. You’ll be surprised what secrets your “dream world” can reveal.
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