"The Child in Me" or "Leap of Faith"

Summary

This collection of artworks celebrates walking life’s journey with child-like faith. It begins as a reflection of the child’s ability to dream and believe from an early age, without the knowledge of failure and setbacks. Along the child’s journey are encounters with the realities of life that aim to dim the light and the hope that once came so easily and to give way to the logical man to fully take over.

It is at that stage that one must decide: to either let those realities have the final say and bury the child, or to allow the child to keep on dreaming while learning to take the necessary actions to achieve those dreams.

If the Art could Speak

In his hands

I am the beginning; the seed planted in one's heart to cultivate purpose and drive action. I am the dreamer's source and motivation, at times forgotten, at times neglected. I am the map that guides every step on the road taken, but when invited. To some, I am distant. To others, I am a puzzle to reconstruct without ever succeeding. For a select few, I am a clear picture. Nevertheless, once I set things in motion, no force can bring them to a halt.

Z20 

I am the vision; the ideal set before the dreamer's eyes to ponder upon and long after during the late hours of the night. I am the blinding lights and the blasting noise that leaves the city restless day after day. I am the hope inviting you into a foreign world, teasing you with the laughter of strangers who came before you and the new roads not yet travelled. I am the fresh air the dreamer seeks and I wait patiently for the dreamer to step into my territory.

Cloud 9

If only we could be as the children who know only to dream. They see the world in color: no plan, no knowledge of failure, yet the dream is set. For Ella, it shows up in red Valentino dresses on a TV screen on a Saturday morning in July. For Leya, it is the smell of yellow and pink tulips in early spring when her parents let her jump in the puddles. For Sam, the heart of winter calls his name, inviting him to fall on his face time after time because he knows that someday he'll slide down the white hills as gracefully as Misty performs her grand jeté to open the season amidst falling autumn leaves. For the child who dreams in color, the dream is but a reality waiting to be lived in its time.

Bubblegum

I am the tapestry forming. I am the dreamer's expectation of what could be; the hope that every step taken, no matter how small, holds enough weight and carries enough presence to create something beautiful. I am the dreamer's promise and reassurance. I am the dreamer’s reminder that even when the steps stop making sense, that even when every part fails to fill the understanding of those watching, I stand firm in my knowledge of the possibility of what I could be if the dreamer keeps molding me.

Journey

‘I am inevitable’ and I cannot be snapped away into dust to be ignored, avoided, or forgotten. I am the dreamer's journey: the quest requested yet often unexpected. I come in all my might because to do otherwise would be an insult to the strength I know my dreamer carries. I have but one task: to help my dreamer become. Some will say I am evil and harsh, that I punch without mercy, watch my dreamer fall without pity, but allow me to do my own PR and spin. What if I suggest to you that I am not the hitter nor the naysayer. I merely allow. What if I were trying to teach you something; encourage you to be the person you needed to someone else when you had no one. What if I were not your enemy? I acknowledge that I can seem too much to bear at times, but in the midst of it all, I'll always whisper to my dreamers to adjust their perspectives. Whether or not they listen is completely up to them.

Lead

I am the voice that remains. I nag and tug at the borders of my dreamer’s mind to push, to encourage, to remind, to comfort. I am always present: in an intuition, in a sense of lack, in the words of someone unexpected. I seek attention but never invade. I put up signs but without leash upon my dreamer’s neck. I must admit, I am quite often saddened because I am not always the most attractive option. I reek of discipline and sacrifice. I promise sleepless nights and frequent breakdowns. I challenge some with principles, speaking of integrity and honesty. I very often get confused for my twin… you know, that one. But, whenever my dreamer is ready to give me a chance, I’ll be there, waiting in the calm. In the quiet, I’ll be there. 

Z21, 22

I am the pit: the place where dreams come to die. I have mastered the art of persuasion. I am the seed that becomes a self-planted tree in the dreamer’s mind. I sow negative thoughts and doubts. They become so deeply rooted that dreamers believe those thoughts to be their own. Some have understood my nature and my tricks, but that will never stop me from being a thorn at their side. I delight in what I am: a shadow so masterful I make dreamers believe I am death itself. 

Molimo

Like the wind that blows a kiss on a dreamer's cheek at noonday

As the oasis silently sitting in a lost corner of a merciless desert

As the shelter that extends its roof on a stormy night

I wait patiently for my dreamers to return.

I've seen them come. I've seen them put down the reins. Every time, I speak words I know

to be true. Every time, I tell them sweet words that are like water to a parched land. They must  think I am but a broken record. If only they knew what I know. Nonetheless, I am still here: I will pause the tape, waiting for my dreamers to return, and pick up where we left off.

Habits

There is a rhythm that forms when the dreamer chooses to stay. The environments may change, the challenges become more intense, but the elements that help the dreamer overcome become second nature. Upon the realization of the power that lies within, the dreamer becomes unshakeable in her beliefs and steady in her steps. She encounters the beauty that comes with repeating the same brush strokes onto the same canvas day after day. What once was a foul smell becomes a sweet smelling aroma earnestly longed for.

Glory / Glory Too

I believe we are well acquainted. Still, allow me to reintroduce myself. I am the dreamer's companion. The one who stays when all others have gone home or closed their eyes for the

night. I am the memory of the dark times and the subtle smile that rises in remembrance of the triumphs. My presence is my most precious gift to the dreamer, my empathy my most honorable duty. We celebrate and we mourn. We toil and we rest. In sickness and in health. In plenty and in lack. 

Pastures

As the dreamer's companion, let me share a secret with you. No one dreamer is the same but every dreamer has the same dream. Not money. Not authority. Those are merely results. That dream is peace. Just as a conflict-torn nation cannot flourish, neither can dreamers still battling with their shadow. Peace signals to a dreamer no longer at war with himself. In peace, the dreamer finds purpose. With peace, the dreamer operates within that purpose. With peace, the dreamer is fulfilled by the purpose. With peace, the dreamer reaps the benefits of the purpose. 

Boomerang

I am the seed planted. I am the pillar of strength throughout the journey. I am the

choice offered not to be taken lightly. Dreamers will rise, dreamers will fall. They will fail, they will overcome. Each with choices, sometimes right, sometimes wrong.

I watch closely without interference. I offer a helping hand when asked sincerely. When the dreamer rejects me, I may appear silent. Watch out not to interpret it as indifference. After all, I am the result at the end of their existence.