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The Viewfinder

He looked through the black viewfinder you would find at some scenic place. It was his idea that on his first date with the woman he met at the book store they’d visit the carnival passing through town. He saw this tent and excitedly dragged her along with him. She did not see the appeal of investigating a black tent with a lone black viewfinder in it.

He pulled back from the viewfinder. “You have got to try this!”

“What did you see?” she asked.

“I won’t tell you,” he said giddily like some school boy about to play the nastiest prank on someone. “You’ll have to find out for yourself.”

She shrugged and stepped in front of the black viewfinder that had “See your DEEPEST and DARKEST fears!” written with the type of squiggly lines you’d only ever find at a haunted mansion. She was nervous; she was easily spooked. For one last time, she looked at him still all smiles, and past him to the excitement of the bustling crowd outside the small tent they were standing in, reminding herself that she needed to loosen up and relax.

“Here goes nothing.”

She looked through the black viewfinder and found herself standing in the middle of an empty street. She could see her hands and her feet and found this a little odd. She didn’t make a big deal out of it but merely thought: technology these days.

The street was empty but the buildings surrounding it seemed emptier, if that were even possible. She walked straight ahead for there was nowhere else to turn which became boring soon enough that it was getting time to end this silly endeavor. She tried to pull herself away from the black viewfinder but hadn’t a clue how. Thinking that perhaps she had to walk back to her starting position, she turned back and started walking and walking until everything looked the same as it did in the other direction. She began to panic.

“Hello?” she cried out.

The doors on the buildings surrounding the street all opened at once and she gasped, holding her hands to her head instinctively. The doors compelled her to enter them. It didn’t matter to her which one she picked, she still felt ridiculous about the situation and increasingly alarmed. But perhaps this strange place was showing her the way out.

She entered the nearest door on her left. It was a room covered with mirrors and nothing more. Some were cracked and some were intact but they all seemed to be covered in a thin layer of dirt or steam or something because she couldn’t see herself clearly in any of them. She left the room and as she did, she pulled back and saw her date standing next to her.

“So did you see it? It’s funny, right?” he chuckled.

“What’s funny about mirrors?”

He was confused so he leaned in on the black viewfinder and laughed.

“You know, I don’t think you were looking properly,” he said. “Try again and this time, really look.”

She didn’t know if she wanted to go back to that creepy empty street but apparently there was supposed to be something very funny in there. Somewhere.

She looked through the black viewfinder again and entered another door. It appeared to be a bar and in the middle of the room there was a woman wearing clothes that looked very familiar. The woman stood with her arms crossed and a very stern look on her face. She noticed there were men sitting all around the bar, faceless. Still, she had a sense that they were all engrossed with the woman in the middle of the room. The woman walked towards the bar and ordered herself a drink, all the while the faceless men mirroring their heads to the way she moved. The woman didn’t seem to care or notice all the attention she was being given but simply flipped her hair carelessly when a man at the furthest corner of the room hissed at her. Then the man next to him did the same until like a chain it spread through the room. She was surprised at the calm that the woman was exuding as the hissing became louder and louder. Then all at once the faceless men faced her and hissed with even more acid than before. She turned and ran for the door.

“That was not fun,” she said as she found herself staring at the black viewfinder.

“What do you mean? It’s hilarious!”

“No, I just want to go. This place is giving me the creeps.”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those people who are afraid of clowns? Come on, that is such a cliché!”

“Clowns?”

“Yeah, that dancing clown. He’s like this –” he wiggled his hips and waved his arms around his head. “Man, I love carnivals.”

She looked around making sure that they were still standing underneath the black tent. There was a breeze outside and it created waves on the fabric of the tent as if things were lurking outside of it. She shivered.

He noticed. “Look, why don’t I go get us something hot to eat. Maybe you’re hungry or something.”

“You’re just gonna leave me alone here? In this creepy tent?”

“You’re overreacting.” He turned to leave, “I’ll be back in a few. You better be laughing or smiling or something when I get back.”

She grimaced. She wanted to get out of this black tent and rejoin all the normal people outside but she knew from the look in his eyes that he wouldn’t let up until she came out just as self-content as he was.

She wandered back into the black viewfinder and heard a faint little song coming from a door to her right. She recognized that the room was her bedroom. As she stepped through, the door closed and disappeared. She cursed under her breath then swivelled and banged against the wall. The door did not reappear.

She felt a deep dark dread run down her spine as she turned to face a large pile of books in the middle of the room in a burning pyre. She recognized the titles as the texts slowly burned away. The room started to vibrate and move. The walls were pushing everything towards the middle, pushing her towards the funeral pyre. She clung to the wall behind her for dear life, kicked and beat at it for the door to appear again but it was just a wall now. And as the flames engulfed her body along with everything else in the room that she had ever owned, she slowly pulled herself away from the black viewfinder.

She looked back at her date now holding two steaming cups of something, spit a nasty word at him, and stomped off the tent.

He followed but not without looking around the tent one last time trying to decipher what exactly it was that made her uncomfortable. He shrugged and came to the conclusion that the only logical explanation was that she just hated clowns or color or joy itself because there was nothing creepy to him about a multicolored tent with a sign hanging outside that says, “World’s Smallest Dancing Clown!”

2

Loving and Updating

So here we are, celebrating love one step at a time.

Congratulations to The US of A – and let’s not forget Ireland – for same love.

I apologize for lack of activities on this blog lately. I’ve just been sorting through some feelings and other nonsense, too uninspired to write.

But I have been utterly inspired to paint and painted I have.

I’ve decided to take a hiatus on Justice June. The laziness and procrastination got the best of me and I feel slightly bad though on the flipside I will admit to being flaky when it comes to promising art. Before I started the Star Wars portrait series, I solemnly swore never to promise anything and then 2 lovely weeks of Star Wars passed by and I thought, “Hey, you can do this. Let’s stretch it out for a month!” And then it all just fell apart.

And now it’s nearing the end of June and I’m still very much unsure whether I want to take Justice June over to July and finish up the month.

For now, painting, just painting, is enough.

Foetal

Foetal

Water Lady

Water Lady

Mohawk

Mohawk – hair-flipping self-portrait (not a painting)

Wildling Fire - Tormund Giantsbane aka the greatest ginger god of them all

Wildling Fire – Tormund Giantsbane aka the greatest ginger god of them all

Colored - interestingly enough I was painting this in the midst of all the marriage equality excitement yesterday

Colored – interestingly enough I was painting this in the midst of all the marriage equality excitement yesterday

In other news, exam results are out and I can proudly say that I have graduated with honors in English and that I did pretty good this semester.

The whole excitement of graduation has got me missing a few people and even though I loathed college, I think I loved it too.

Onto the next chapter.

And a musical parting gift:

I messed up the first line but in my defense, the batteries I had charged the previous night were completely dead when I put them in the camera, thus began a tedious journey of dying camera and cutoff recordings for the next 3 hours.

4

Dear Universe # 3 (Up Dog)

Dear Universe,

For the past two weeks, my weeks have gotten exponentially better. And I’m very happy and grateful for this but I don’t know if people want to keep reading what an awesome time I’m having 😛

Dear Readers,

  1. I was having issues with my previous theme. I liked the color scheme of teal and that beautiful plum-ish red color. The text just appeared too large to me. So I’m making adjustments. Bear with me as I see what fits best for the next few days.
  2. I am so pleasantly overwhelmed by the response I’m receiving on this blog. Thanks to my father and mother for sharing the shit out of some of my blog posts and thank you to all the strangers who have liked my posts and found me interesting enough to follow. 10+ followers in two weeks, to me, is a super achievement. It’s my wordpress version of receiving a giant bag of jelly beans with all the best flavors in the entire universe.
  3. I hope I’m not annoying you with all my weird posts.
I apologize for the low quality but it's too early to do anything (11:34 am on a Saturday)

I apologize for the low quality but it’s too early to do anything (11:34 am on a Saturday)

Yours Truly, Esther


Dear WordPress Themes,

Who do you hire to write all these strange fillers? Here’s one I actually read right now:

“These are the times, when in his whale-boat the rover softly feels a certain filial, confident, land-like feeling towards the sea; that he regards it as so much flowery earth; and the distant ship revealing only the tops of her masts, seems struggling forward, not through high rolling waves, but through the tall grass of a rolling prairie: as when the western emigrants’ horses only show their erected ears, while their hidden bodies widely wade through the amazing verdure.”

What an incredible run-on. So much epicosity.

Sincerely, A Cheerily Confused User


Dear Johnny English,

I finally broke your sleeping curse. It used to be that I would sleep every single time I put on the first or second movies. When I was about 18, I had this habit of putting in movies into my tiny-ass iPod so that I could fall asleep at night with a soft light shining on my face. I’d call these “Sleepers”. But, I discovered just the other day that I have broken the sleeping curse set upon mine eyes by Johnny English: Reborn. To celebrate, here’s something I painted to commemorate the triumphant return of my consciousness:

Johnny English
Sincerely, Someone Who Watches Too Many Movies Asleep


Dear Paul Walker Fever,

First of all, RIP Paul Walker. You were one of the best humans in the world. I say this not because of your movies but because of what you did outside those movies helping others in need without needing to show it in pictures. Second of all, let me address the addressee: why, oh why, have you infected the minds of people who don’t really know your namesake? You mention the name Paul Walker just once here and everyone literally breaks down in tears. Why? Because he won’t be around for another Fast & Furious movie. That’s it. Who is he really? Dunno.

Sincerely, Someone Who Is Trying To Make It Stop


Dear Formal Logic Class,

Remember that time you guys were being complete assholes to me and my friend and not telling us where class is and all that? The satisfaction upon seeing your clueless faces the day after none of you attended a class finishing one whole chapter was priceless and made me feel like an evil genius.

Sincerely, Someone Who Is Not In The Formal Logic Whatsapp Group


Dear Netflix,

Please continue to dominate the world with your amazing TV Shows. And keep Daredevil alive forever please.

Yours Truly, Psyched for Season Two


Dear Poetry,

How is it that you’ve been right before my eyes all this time and I’ve only just noticed you? Bad, poetry. Bad.

Sincerely, New Poetry Enthusiast



That was my update for this week. Have an amazing day and don’t forget to brighten up your life! Or make it darker. After all, black is a beautiful color.

Yours Truly, Esther