Sketchy memories

 One of my favorite hobbies is to sketch. What I fancy about sketching is that it’s not fancy at all. All you need is paper, pen, and some time to spend away. For some reason, rubbing the black head of an HB pencil against the white sheet of an A4 always calmed me down. Although I don’t possess a talent as stunning as many of my artistic friends do, I am proud of each piece I create out of my hands. I mostly keep every one of them in a file back in my room. Flipping through the pages, I retrace myself back to when I started this tiny pastime.

The first few pages of my file depict myself in elementary school. I hope I could say I had a profound calling to start sketching, maybe to witness The Elevation of the Cross by Rubens as Nello did in A dog of Flanders, but nah – I began by doodling in math classes in school. Back then, I remember drawing comic book characters or cartoon heroes I saw on television. I laughed at my peers struggling with the horrendous multiples and divisions as my alien heroes slashed through with ease. (Of course, my laughter quickly faded out as the teacher contemplated whether she should hit me with a bat or club.)

After an epic war of flying magicians and space pirates, comes a single blank page. This page attributes to myself in middle school, a boy in a cap trying to hide his cropped hair and freshly sprouted acne. The small, pubescent boy in junior high was much more interested in skateboards and hip-hop than scribbling on some notebook. Recalling back to what a mess I was, the clean paper void of all color and shape seems rather ironic.

The last part of the document, occupying the most pages, portrays myself in my high school years, striving to survive the last days of my teen. This final section of my small portfolio is filled with the scenes I encounter in my daily life: My roommates rubbing their heavy eyelids trying to escape their bunk beds, a group of excited freshmen running toward their first archery lessons, a bunch of starving seniors waiting for lunch, and more.

I chose to pick my pen up once again after I ran into a former middle school classmate. We were rather close back then, so we recognized each other immediately. I was shocked however, to realize that we had forgotten each other’s names. I felt like I was one of those nihilists; what happened to all the memories of my 3 years? How could I not remember a single name? I didn’t wish to forget the daily life that I grew quite attached to now. However, as afraid as I am to lose it, I will in the end, as all do. So I decided to treasure all the moments I love, and try to preserve it in the best way I could.

Due to my lack of imagination and long-term memory, I first take a photo and then sketch afterwards. Some friends question the meaning in doing so; Why leave the perfect full HD resolution modern technology can present? My answer never changes. To me, it’s as obvious as choosing between watching a Mukbang video of a 3-star course buffet and having a nice, hot cup of ramen. While I cannot display every tiny detail as a camera lens would, every scratch of graphite, every stain that I erase is more vivid than any RGB color my HD+ galaxy phone can produce.

As the pages fill up with new pieces, I give a wistful sigh realizing that I wouldn’t be able to see these sights for much longer. But I’m also content that in the following years to come, I’m not going to have too much of a hard time guessing who my friends were. By then, I would probably have a second volume of my portfolio, filled with new people and new surroundings. Carrying the past in my arms and engraving the present with my hands, I look forward to what kind of future would end up in the next page.