Just as I said.

I owed you all some new strokes. There you go. I call this one "You're a beautiful and violent word" because it's lyrics that just spoke to me when I was painting and listening to a song called "These Few Presidents" by Why?. I often name my paintings after lyrics from songs that inspired the piece or that I just happened to have stuck in my head at the time.

Please give me feedback.
Do you hate it? Love it? Why?

Uhm.

So I need to paint again.
Probably have something for you tomorrow.

You've done it again.

Tragedy is realizing that what you thought was real for so long was an act, a facade. It is in realizing that you were only a way to pass the time. It is in knowing that you are disposable.

What is a promise? A promise is a verbal commitment by one person to another agreeing to do (or not to do) something in the future. So we put our trust into words. We throw our emotions out on the line for spoken or written terms. This means nothing. Words are insignificant; feelings are real. I don't like promises, because they always fail.

In the end, we die alone. Why? Because we, ourselves, are the only people we have. Our loved ones leave us eventually. And no matter how defiant you are, it is the inevitable truth.

Good gracious.

The last couple days have been a whirlwind. It started Thursday night, when my mom came home around midnight. I was still awake, but lying down in bed. She came in to my room to say goodnight. I told her that all week I had been feeling very "low"(I was referring to my anemia) and I experienced a number of symptoms that were quite typical when I've had a low hemoglobin before. My mom then took me to my pediatrician the next day and I was examined. He called for blood work to be done at Emerson Hospital, so my mom and I went. After two hours of confusion and waiting, a nurse came out into the waiting room and asked for my mother urgently. She told my mom I had a hemoglobin of 6.2 and that we had to get to the ER at Mass General in Boston immediately. My mom grabbed my arm and we booked it out to the car. She drove into Boston in at least 20 minutes at got me to the ER. I was registered there and since I was a STAT patient, I was whisked up to the 18th floor, the pediatrics level. There, I endured several series of questions from six different nurses, four EKG's, and countless vital checks. I was hooked up to more machines than ever before. Because I was considered to be in 'critical condition', I had my own room to myself where everyone was constantly watching me. My blood oxygen level was extremely low, and I was at risk of dying. Within 2 hours I had an IV set up for two blood transfusions. It felt so strange to have someones blood dripped into my body. I am so thankful for blood drives, and I have incredible respect for people who partake in them. Thank you to anyone who has donated blood, you could have been the person who saved my life. Each transfusion took four hours, and when I woke up from the first one, I felt like I had been reborn. I felt a whole new energy. But most of all, I was extremely blessed that my body had accepted the new blood. Saturday afternoon came around and my IV nurse collected more blood for a new count to see if the transfusions had done their job. They had, my hemoglobin was up to my normal amount. Because everything was back to 'my normal', I was discharged and came home roughly around 8:00 pm Saturday night.


Reflecting over my experience, I can't tell you how gracious I am to my pediatrician and my mother. My mom stayed focused and calm through everything. She didn't break, and when I was too overwhelmed to handle everything, she smiled and assured me that everything I was going through would make me stronger. I love her so much.

Studio!

This is where I spend at least 2-4 hours a night. I paint before I go to bed, because I think my imagination spills out more when I am sleepy. Sometimes I paint when I wake up too. My mom was sweet enough to buy me a desk easel so I won't smudge paint all over my arms and wrists now. I'm very fortunate that she supports my hobby, because paper is expensive. We are looking into buying a portfolio for all of my stuff. Believe me, there is a lot. As far as paints and pallets go, I just use pieces of cardboard. I see no reason to buy a piece of plastic when I have scrap boxes in my possession. My paint is just your basic 79₵ acrylic craft paint you can find at any Micheal's or Jo -Anne Fabrics. I've just recently switched to watercolor paper because it holds more paint and the weight is perfect.

Smoke screen.

So this is my newest painting, and it was completed really late last night. I was very hesitant to add colour to it because I was so attached to the black & white. I'm really happy with the way it came out. I think I'm resetting the standard for my paintings, because this time I pushed myself to try a full-body person. Usually my figures stop around the waist and have "tails". Anyway, I hope other people appreciate this piece because I love it.