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The Art Scientist (2023)

This chapter was when I went mad as I reached my last straw and tried creating artworks from my phone...

 

Since my Wi'Am phase in 2021 and all the way up to December of the year 2022, I was a mental mess, alone, broke and broken, yet, I kept working hard on getting myself an opportunity, but when you keep failing for so long every day and night, you end up giving up hope and belief in yourself, especially when you have no family or friends about you, all the while you're still completely drenched in the heavy rain of anxiety and fear of the future and haunted by the many ghosts of traumas from the past.

 

Art is all about telling stories and sharing thoughts and feelings, and yet, I was not spared any opportunities and art judges pushed aside my painful and long tale that includes me surviving three years of homlessness all alone as a young immigrant  just because I did 'way too many things', my old Man'Si paintings that included 'Tsunami' , 'By My Side' , and 'Breakfast' not the recognition they deserve... not yet!

 

In my Art Scientist era, I have lost motivation of making paintings because I was too poor, and because I had no drawing tablets, I solely relied on using my phone to make art, I just wanted to make art somehow... so I used pictures from my phone and edited them by mixing and fixing them into bizarre artworks, turning pain into beauty as always, depression to fun.

 

I thought that being so experimental then must be my curse even though it meant original, so I've been deeply depressed for the contineous rejections of art grants and galleries and isolated myself for way too long now because I was made to feel like I am just never good enough after surviving everything painful all alone with resilience and a non-dying smile...  so when the title 'The Art Scientist' descended upon me like a holy book in my solemn cave of solitude one silent night, I felt real for the first time in my life, 'Finally, I have a face.' I posted online to my few followers back then, that's how dark it was. A little more enthusiastic about life again, like I've finally found myself, I have ended up becoming mad... but I thought that I at least found myself and it made me feel happy; I was made to become the mad art scientist.

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I was still fighting to heal wounds with art but as I had no space in my nest (small apartment) and continued to be dismissed as if my mad story is not worth-while just because I do 'way too many things' and have no niche of my own (yet) because I needed HELP, I had no choice but to seek refuge into my phone yet again the way I did to write my books, because I didn't have the necessary tools, programs or technology, so I managed with my phone nontheless because I'm a stubborn butterfly; I have to survive and win to be happy.

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So here are what I called 'friendly beasts' where I turned negative into positive like a magician, experimenting with everything I could to create these adorable monsters by fixing and mixing anything possible from photography to paintings, or even pictures I took, to craft some comforting worlds on canvas... or screen.

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Thanks to all the pain and disdain, I think that I found the perfect niche for me very excellently in this chapter of my life, being experimental,

because even my experimental fashion brand ex'cesoir now makes more sense.

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I am an experimentalist :) Life is great as is!


I fought my hardest in this chapter not to give up my love for people due to being dismissed because I happened to also be harassed by people... which made me evermore eager to choose the dread of loneliness instead by staying safe in my bubble to contain my sanity and simply be happy being Me, but because I always believed in goodness , I shall never turn into a hateful, angry junkie in the end like a weakling. Not to be a defeatist like a peasant is my mantra in life.

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‘Don’t impose, Yokoshima,' I told myself. 'just do what you wanna and gotta do, an the rest is out of your hand and getting angry won’t bend it into the shape or form you want things to be, and that’s fine. The universe takes care of me and it provides for those who strife.'

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As I sought refuge with colouring as if I travelled back into my child form again to forget the harsh reality, just before I was able to afford for a drawing tablet at last (the very same thing I sold before going homeless and now bought again after years of surviving), I slowly found myself calming down, healing little by little, my head starting to clear, and I realized and understood everything that was happening, that was 'wrong' I had to correct... and so there I started my final battle to move on as I fight my best to stay sane and get out there, believing (from experience) that there are always other fish in the sea and things happen for the better cause, so it is okay to miss opportunities. 

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Something else, new, some thing better was waiting for me.

A new life was waiting ahead; is what I liked to believed to soothen the painful doubts in my swollen heart.

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The Art Scientist? Just another cute name of mine the universe just gifted me for comfort...'

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