How Sporadic Random Thoughts came to be and The Evolution of Fherism

Typhoon Ompong (international name: Mangkhut) is now in,...the wind blew erratically outside where I am now...PAGASA said just this evening that the eye of the 900 km-wide Ompong is expected to make landfall between 1am-3am... 
And it is here....just pass midnight. Still in its full force and not slowing down...maximum wind 205 kph and gustiness up to 255 kph moving 30 kph.
   News agency worldwide said this is between category 4 and 5...a superstorm.

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   I remember something whenever such huge storm warning occur. About styles...As far as I'm concern, style just don't have to push it. It came from acknowledge experience... most of the time coincidental.  
   On my case, a resolution to augment both uncontrollable situation and a leeway to patch up mistakes and weakness.
   I can still clearly recall how I accidentally tore an Alice Dixon portrait in watercolor that I did sometime around my self-search period which came immediately after the CCP workshop days 1985....if I could only turn back time and took real good care of my earlier works....
   It was also during that time where I started making portfolio books which I've acquired from the workshop and called them "Visual Manuscript" and I have more than a couple of dozens back then...never ending quest...but actually I did finish some. I would always isolate myself away from the world outside and pour out my feelings on those scrapbook-like collections.... the depression always settling in...Thank God, I have great faith in Him that I actually live to see this day...much stronger and accepting. 
   Those collages of memories could have been a time capsule which spans nearly half of my life. Well, actually summarizing in details things that could have been a vintage by now. But that's me...never really that careful... just destroying what I have spent years building. 
   It is not really just about styles but a personal journey...the tearing of paper and pasting of anything were actually part of my fragmented thoughts...always in search for understanding...memories that I actually barely recall. 
   I don't really have very vivid memories, especially those of my youth... I need to delete them anyway...became very selective in keeping moments... spiced with lies and cover up to hide the real pain.... pain which I can not tell even to myself. 
   And up today, I am still trying to cover up the real nothing that I have become. I only care about me, me, me. Still needing.... and then what do I really wanted anyway? 

A Series in a Single Frame
   Now as the fragment of those random thoughts became less sporadic and crossing my single pieces which I have told you before that it was rare for me to do one piece...especially now that I turn to oil and the rolls of canvases are beginning to file up and still basically the same....dependent on people to do the bidding for me. I can't even accomplish a personal project without hassle where I can dictate or truly explore my full potential. 
   At least I am moving...I think that is basically all that I can do at this point...and can't even see what's the point. 

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Yahuah God Bless!


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