When I was a little kid, my father used to teach me to draw. I always sit in the mattress with him, looking at his hands creating something interesting. A figure of a man, a woman, a child, a tree, a leaf, a monster, a face, a hero.
“It is all wonderful, dad! How can you draw like that?” as I always ask him.
He did not look at me, for he was concentrating on his works. But he always answered, “I can’t draw.”
He always answered that. Of course, I always thought that he was lying. Well, not lying. I mean, he was trying to be humble or anything. But something that always comes to my mind: why is he trying to be humble with me? He is my father. It is always be a pleasure to any son to have a father that master some skills.
“You have to stroke a line like this.” he was drawing a long line in the paper. The line was bold, and I could feel his bravery when he did that.
“Never be afraid to fail. You can always try it again. Just do what comes to your mind, and draw what you really see.”
But I always afraid. Somehow, deep inside my mind, the fear were always lurking. I always afraid to making any mistake. I was too afraid to do anything, I do not feel that I can draw any line without repeating it all over again.
“Don’t be afraid. Draw what you really see, know what it is, and you never be fail. That’s no such thing as ‘wrong’ on this thing.”
Somehow in a way, I was conquering my fear. I could draw, and I loved it. But it was not too long. I believe I did my last piece of ‘drawing’ when I was in Junior High School. That was the last time I painted something because I love it. There came my High School moment and I was nowhere near that thing. I was lost, literally. I did not know what to do, what do I like. That was the dullest times of my life.
“People can be happy, when they created something from they mind.” my father said to me just today.
“When they draw things, when they write, when they make a story, a movie. When they play music, when they dance. Dancing might be the greatest joy people can feel, you are very free when you dance.”
He stopped for a moment, and he said again, “but you can’t keep your dance. It was only for a moment. It was there, and then it disappear.”
I was stunned, of course. I was thinking about what he just said.
“But you can keep your drawing. You can look at it anytime you like. That’s why, son, I love it when you draw. Because you can create something that makes you happy. That you can savor when you look at it, anytime.”
“But why you always said that you can’t draw?” I asked him.
“Well, because… I can’t. I’m no good at it. I might be able to draw an object or something. But to create an ambiance, that is another thing.”
Then he asked me a question, or maybe a statement. “You. You can draw. You know that?”
I didn’t answer him. I just looked into his eyes. There are something there that never been changed. It was him, sit down with me. Teach me how to stroke a line, how to build a figure. It always him.
I just found himself again, and I found myself all over again. I can draw, yes. I can make a thing. I have skill, and I have something. I can keep my happiness.
It is a figure of hero that I found in him today. Again.