Not for a long time

4-Nov-2008

Today i woke up around 6.30am. My body instinctively flew off my bed. A great light encircled me. I squinted. Today, I felt something I had not felt for a very long time. My mind played over and over...

'O' Level Art Exam.

Since Std 4, I have never sat for a formal exam.

The day before, the middle finger on my right hand suffered a badminton accident (courtesy of my partner) to the first joint from the knuckle. It had bled enough to dye my finger red from the first to second joint by the time I took the trouble to look at it. I'm not the kind to believe in omens but it ached whenever I clenched my fist. I am not a sissy, but I DID have an art exam coming up.

Wounded digits aside I would say I was quite calm compared to my art teacher, parents and sibling. I now quote my brother.

"These exams are hard on everyone... Except you!"

My serene demeanor started to fail me the day of the actual exam however. During the trip by car to the British Council where the exam was held, I found myself going through the details over and over. How the placement of objects should go, what steps to take and what equipment I might have forgotten were all questions I interrogated myself with. I must say I wasn't that nervous though, because when all that was said and done, I fell asleep. I then reached the place, enjoyed a nice breakfast at The Cofee Bean before entering the room marked "Silence Please".

As soon as I entered I noticed that they expected me to paint in a carpeted room, but my concentration was needed elsewhere. I stared at a tennis bag. It stared back at me, its contents spilling out of it so it looked more "Artistic".

Before the exam, the thought of an invigilator invoked pictures of very nosy people who patrol back and forth with an occasional stop to bend over and look at your artwork. However, due to the fact that the room opposite mine held candidates sitting for a Physics paper, as well as the fact that there was only one invigilator... he was a rare sight.

I had also pictured myself in a room with more people. There were 2.... Including me. Issac, a 19 year old chap sat at another seat painting plants. A nice guy. Painted the background with the kind of brush used for walls. I still wonder why I never thought of that...

Looking through the box of paints, I found out that I didn't have black. Turned out I had switched the black paint cap with the Prussian blue paint cap. Thank God... Scared the **** out of me.

Despite this, to my surprise, I was quite satisfied with the way my work turned out.