Stacking all those paintings up once in a while to see how high it has gotten over time makes me happy for a moment to realize that I am living a life with such meaning. The meaning of lessons I've learned, the strength it has given me, and the purpose it provided. Painting has taught me patience with myself and I am increasing my acceptance and seeing things as they are; meaning, when I paint something that I perceived it as ugly and terrible, I learnt to appreciate its own characteristics and aspects. This is what we often do to ourselves and to the people around us - discriminating likes and dislikes based on forms and never really appreciate the slightest things. The wisdom of creating something could teach us is profoundly special. Painting is special to me and it's something that I am going to continue on doing. There will be a lot of paintings to move with me if I ever need to settle else where permanently. And it will be a headache after I pass away. As of right now, keep on creating is the only thing on my mind.