I saw it early on: that my daughter had the daemon, the exceptional passion for painting because it was all she did.
She painted before she could walk.And we could forget we had a daughter because she could paint for hours on end. Locked up in her room painting, we would need to drag her out of it to eat and be with us.
So early on, I saw the task I was given: to nurture this flame in my daughter that made itself apparent bec it burned bright and our walls were a testament to the gift she had been given.
It was why I homeschooled her. She is extremely introverted and I knew the soulless regimented ultra structured thing we give our children that we then call an “education” (but is anything but) would get in the way.
I loved taking her to art museums in the country and all over the world. And I called it “field trip” lol.
That’s me in the Met in New York giving my 4 yr old Matina a lecture on Greek mythology and the goddess Aphrodite, the goddess of love. This was her first time in the Met. And if you zoom in, you’ll see how captivated she is by my lecture. (Nanay power! It was at that age where everything I said was gospel truth.)
Mythology was something I wanted imprinted in her soul and so I poured my heart on that lecture.
We’d go back to the Met a number of times more and we made it our ritual to take a photo in the exact spot, in the exact pose and have a good laugh- one reason was because she had grown in leaps and bounds in her art- from the toddler who couldn’t stop painting to the Fine Arts major in UP and my first lecture on that spot now sounded like “Run, Bantay,run.” Lol
The photo on the right was taken last year. She had just gotten a scholarship in The New York Academy of Art and was getting commissioned and exhibited.
I ask her to meet me in the exact spot. I was coming from a lunch date with a girlfriend and so was she.
I get there first and I wait for her.
Then I see her.
She is no longer the yagit bubwit whose breadth of knowledge about herself and her art were whatever her mother taught her but I see a sophisticated 21 year old- an artist in every sense of the word. Someone who has gained much knowledge about herself, her art and her place in the world.
I have nothing more to teach my daughter in a field where she shines.
She sees me and we are both enveloped in the significance of the moment. Her hands fly to her mouth as I hear her say, “Oh mom.”She rushes to me as I meet her, my daughter, the artist. I cradle her in my arms and we cannot stop crying.
Because for all the wrong things I have done in my life, for all the mistakes I have committed as a mother, in this one thing, I did right. I cupped the flame – the gift the gods and goddesses gave her- and now here she is, able to do it herself really well.
Have a great day guys. Yakap! ❤️❤️❤️
She Writes 