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I am running away from reality, as fast as i could.
and trying not to look back, so as to prevent my eye from tearing.
Coloring book Monday, May 18, 2009


This is the reason why I have been busy for the past few days. I bought this filling color by number drawing at local bookstall on a whim. OK, not exactly a whim but kind of a contingency plan to reduce the time I spend on net. The finished picture was quite captivating and I thought this painting should be finished in few hours. I have zero creativity and my naive thinking proved it. It has been two weeks since I have started this and I am not even half through it. It could be because I work on this only during weekends.
Life is something similar to painting colors on a pre-decided numbered drawing of this sort. There are innumerable ways to screw it up; mess up the colors or mix incorrect proportions. If the current status of painting is validated against the standard painting, its easier to fix it. But then again, it requires effort and additional resources do so. I have seen many leaving those mistakes as such in their paintings. For some, it makes them realize about the haste in which they made that mistake or a genuine error in selecting the color.
However if you follow the rules faithfully, then the end result is something that is expected and something definitely worth remembering. It's the kind of predictability that many look for. Even though every human is drawn from different sets of blueprints, people generally refine themselves to mould to a certain standard version thus losing individuality down the drain. Sometimes, I do wonder, isn't a predictable result much better than a risky one?
There is also a possibility that the quality of the painting can be modified choosing colors on our own. In the end, the result may not be as beautiful as it was intended at the start but it would be definitely unique on its own. Even if the kaola bear would look like a monkey (thats what my friend said when she looked at the painting), it still is my own. Its my pride. Its something that I call "Its my creation; my own" (notice the "I-me-myself" syndrome) I feel unnaturally happy when someone tells me that this painting looks nice.
Kinda cool no?

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