The Artist

My very beautiful friend Max came to visit me a few days ago. I had not seen him in over a year. He offered me two beautiful sketches and an oil painting during his visit. He is an artist.

The purpose of his visit (besides to visit me!) was to look for buyers for his artwork.

I almost cried when he told me - beeming with joy - that he sold one of his paintings. How can one assign a dollar sign to a passion? He put his heart and soul into something only to have someone place a value to it. Once sold, the painting is no longer his. As if only the memory of painting it is sufficient for him.

Perhaps he has a different concept of ownership than I do.

I know I haven't written in awhile but I found it quite impossible to capture the chaos that I have been living in recent past.

What has inspired me to blog is my sister's blog which explains just how spoiled she is. I would like to confirm that yes, she is in fact the biggest spoiled brat ever!!!!

...after me that is!

It's great to have parents that love and let go. To have parents whom I can confide in and talk about personal matters without having them judge or overpower me. So I take our great relationship and my upbringing for granted.

It is very possible that I can offend close friends of mine when i make insensitive comments. The fact is, I do not know how it is like to grow up in a less than wonderful family. Sure, the Au's have had our up's and down's...but the fact is that we're a close and well-balanced family. Perhaps a little prideful at times, but always good intentioned.

And love hurts.

My return from Montreal to Toronto was more painful than I could imagine. Driving back was so cruel - to prolong the feeling of leaving my childhood and all that I hold dear behind.

For reasons known only to a select few, I had a real attachment to my parents this visit. It seems that as I grow older, the roles begin to reverse. Eventhough not much of them has changed since my childhood - I sometimes now have this overwhelming desire to embrace them, as if to shield them from disappointment and sadness.

Living apart from them these past 14 months has allowed me to see the progression of our relationship. My life experiences and the physical distance between us mean that I am developing on my own - outside the confines of the daily schedules and dinners.


The feeling I have towards my parents cannot be described. In a poor attempt, I shall write that I know God exists because of the love I feel towards my parents. Each time before I visit, I have these intense moments of anxiety because I fear that somehow time has altered them in a way that I am not ready to witness. In every thought and action, I think of them, wonder if they approve.

And so I pray that I would love myself enough to always act in a way that would bring them happiness. Because I owe everything to them and their sacrificial love towards me.