All posts by lupinestargazer

His firm hands

His firm hands

Held mine tight whenever we’re at the mall, keeping me safe and not letting me stray off.
Paused and washed clean while in the middle of working on the machines just to help me fiddle w/ the toy robots too complicated for me to play alone.
Carried a mug around his office and maintains unfazed after downing bottles of beer in the middle of the day.
Patted me on my shoulder after agreeing to pay half for the playstation console I’ve been saving for almost 2 years with my allowance.

Felt dry whenever I held them, they were strong but weary. How I admire them as it showed me a glimpse of the struggle it took to get to where he was.

These were the hands that spoke to me during video calls, giving me a thumbs up and a nod after showing him around my home, my drawings, my work. These hands spoke to me when his voice could no longer do so.

And over a month ago, after over a decade of not seeing him, I arrived and held these familiar hands. They were still firm and dry as I remembered, but cold. These were the hands that battled cancer and pneumonia.


Rest in peace, Papa.


[QD] Monotony in Madness

As if time has stopped, news about my dad’s cancer situation froze me. I was shaken for a long while, even after he was able to power through successful operations and is now undergoing recuperation. Something, I guess, weighed on me, keeping me in place. Despite how much I try to kept walking, I ended up stalling for the most trivial reasons. And I have this convenient excuse to allow me to be less hard on myself whenever I feel in a slump.

At some point, I was afraid to face him. I have this image of him in my head that became the foundations to help me steel myself. It helped me power through these passed 15 years without a father figure. And now, seeing him this vulnerable, somewhat weakened my resolve.

Day in and out, this stasis, this monotony, is a suffering that I’d allow myself to take. Hours felt long while days wither out in a time lapse. Procrastination has been a to me confidante for months. The self imposed anguish was a chaos that I allowed myself to submerge to. But its never a pain that I want to embrace. And it took me months to will myself into realising that such pain will never change what is currently happening.

My blank page stared at me all this time, waiting to be filled with whatever ephemeral burst of inspiration I can encase. Oddly, as if for some completely fleeting urge, let myself draw with all that pent up frustrations. I don’t exactly feel great drawing some of them, but I think its something I need to exhaust so that I can breathe again.

Again, more mindless meanderings from me.

[QD] Yellow Brick Road

Weeks recently have been so exhausting for me. With all the problems piling up I was afraid of wanting to draw while in this sort-of depression. I was afraid that if I accept this state as normal I would feel less human. The annoying part is that I always find solace while drawing, it calms me in these dire situations while letting me get used to what I’m feeling at the moment.

My games are not helping right now so I went back with other venues to let my mind wander. Books and music got me the quick solace that allows me to. And in that minute saunter, I was able to draw (just a bit) again.

Right now, I feel that I’m dashing, face first, into a brick wall; And I’m hoping that a wrecking ball, or even just a sledge hammer, would smash it before I hit it.

[RND] Warped and Frizzled

While work has been on/off for me because of the project’s “volatility”, I’m left with this awkward tempo of shifting between idle, or extremely busy. Though despite the manageable stress at work, I’ve noticed that I am slowly becoming more irritable on the most random and trivial things. Perhaps the restlessness I have whenever I’m at home or at work, and everything in between, has made me want to stop and reflect on a few things; And a lot of these recollections and epiphanies somehow agitates me. Knowing how helpless and hopeful I am at the same time made me hate the contradictions that envelops me.

The noise that I’ve embraced is still there, it never gave me comfort. And I plan on keeping it that way until it can etch me a canvas. Though it is less aggressive now as the chaos from somewhere else is trying to get my attention, worries from the home front and other neglected aspects of my life are starting to eat up this space. And while I found refuge in circles and games, I know that this escapism won’t keep me sane; It will break me sooner or later.

The pen has been heavy at times, and I envy the ones who seem that they can’t stop from doing what they can. But I guess they too have their own struggles and anxieties that they swim through; Maybe they too feel this warped feeling that prevents them from moving.

And yet they still move.

I am a walking contradiction. And I am the one who wants to be walking but choose to stand still. I am probably going to try and wade through this murky waters and still find myself floating aimlessly.

I just need to move. Any how, any way.

What that direction is~ is irrelevant, what’s important and symbolic is that I’m moving; As long as its moving.


[QD] Stalemate

A lot of progress recently, mainly on keeping up the habit of finding the time to work on my doodles and world building. I actually have a few drafts that I want to iron out as my high concept. In a few weeks I’ll move back to digital drawing and continue from there, I have so many wips on my tablet at the moment. Mostly stalled because I got sidetracked when focusing on my day job, and me trying to catch up to my game backlog (curse you, Q1 2017).

There is so much I want to work on but time has been fleeting for me. I think I’m at this impasse where I have to give up something big if I really want significant progress.

Anyways, day job has been hectic but it should soon simmer down once Prod release kicks in. I’ve breezed through Horizon: Zero Dawn, fell hard for Nier Automata’s story telling, and adapted to Nioh’s odd formula for a souls game. Now trying to play through P5 and probably shift to Gravity Rush 2 afterwards.

Here’s to more struggling.

[QD] Unmade and Waiting

Your unborn world is waiting for you, so it can join the millions of stories in existence, like stars in a galaxy.

– Meteora, Re:CREATORS

Just a random quote I found while catching up on my anime backlog. This struck me hard as I felt that I’ve been stalling for a while now for it. The worldweaving, the storybuilding, its been there all the time, waiting for me to pull myself out of my rut.

Its somewhat ironic that one of my main diversions is indirectly urging me to go back. And while I can conveniently blame 2017’s Q1 game releases, it has always been me who made the choice to stall.

I guess I need to start by saying “Day one”, instead of “One day” when I plan for my aspirations.

Now that my random musing is out of the way, here is a quick doodle today at work.

Still need more practise on the lips (and probably everything else too)

[QD] Chaos, Beautiful and Contradicting

For a long while, my friends have known me for being reflective and analytical of whatever events, be it real or in fiction, and how it affects its viewers while trying to convey its message or reach its agenda. It helps me deconstruct narratives down and help me learn a bit more about various storytelling styles. It has been almost a reflex of mine to quickly step back and assess what a scene is trying to do, intentionally or not, to its audience.

But through that, it detached me from the world for far too long. Making me unfeeling, devoid, and warped at times. The best I can do ‘normally’ was reacting to humour. Sure, when tapped to my interests, I do exude this passion that expands the spectrum. But outside that, the calm demeanor steps in, straightens my back, and pushes me to live my days in monotony.

And because of this, I keep struggling with my doodles. Practices are aimless when its unfeeling and lifeless. Only at some rare events where I felt compelled to draw that I can feel and MAKE it look the way I wanted. Though I can usually attribute it to my confidence and skill making it turn out like that. Or I can attribute it to something that has been consistently there: my lack of empathy.

In an attempt to rekindle it, I began lowering my Walls. Bit by bit, my safety locks that kept me steadfast and prudent were unshackled. And when the chaos finally floods in, everything started to gradually resonate from me with honesty.

The unhindered anger that swims against the tide. The consuming depression stifling the sounds of everyday life. The anxiety that shadowed my complacency. They were there, they were all there.

The noise.

The Chaos.

It left me a wreck, it left me crippled and heavy. It left me afraid and uncertain.

Making it hard for me to breathe. Labouring with spikes piercing through my chest.

And everything felt foreign and uncanny. As I skip my stop and ventured further into unknown places.

In the midst of this maelstrom, I found my pen, my anchor. Both moving and secured, it reeled me in despite the currents.

I am still a wreck. I am still in pain. The noise is still far from silenced. The outcome even looks the same as before. I still struggle. I am still the same as before, but with more wounds.

But this time, I feel that I can start being honest with myself again.

This time, I feel that I can finally grow true to what I wanted from the beginning.