A self-portrait from a photo taken when I was 17. It was a bad photo, slightly blurred, full-face, hair on either side of my face (parted bangs, short in front and long in back -- very 80s). Very much the photo of a landlubber.
This drawing, though, is a nod to the two times in my life I nearly drowned. The first, when I was seven, a quiet struggling right beyond the wave line. I could hear my extended family on the shore saying, "Look, it looks like (someone) is having trouble." (In Cebuano, a sentence like this does not need a subject). Then my grandmother waded in and fished me out.
The second time was on a beach in Zambales, in my 30s. Struggling silently against a wicked undertow. Unable to call for help. Then, the intervention of a brawny Filipino-American filmmaker, Michael, with whom we were swimming. He grasped me by the collar of my shirt (I had not brought a swimsuit) and hauled me unceremoniously onto the rock ledge.
Here I'm sinking, unable to speak, but seeing everything with perfect clarity.
***
Panpastels and charcoal.
100 Faces in 300 days. 95/100
No comments:
Post a Comment