To be honest, I hate to be asked to draw. I shouldn't have accepted it from the start. I don't know what it is, but since I left Chicago, I have been kind of neglecting to draw or do any creative work. I feel like I left all my confidence in the states, and all I care about now is to think of how to spend my everyday.
Anyways, I've been thinking about my grandfather lately. We built our house right next to his house when I was 9 or 10 (my age doesn't matter), where there was his parking space. Everyday when I go or come back from school, I entered/exited from our back door, and on the way I would peek in to my grandfather's house to say hi. Every Sunday around noon was when I would stay at his house to have tea together and eat sweets. I usually didn't have much to talk about, but I would usually go cause he had our dog Minnie at his place (We couldn't take care of Minnie because we later moved to America, and we asked to take care of her). His house was the most authentic Japanese house I ever been and it scared me at first but I liked it a lot. Like his old style bathrooms, hall ways, sliding doors, tatami (weaved bamboo floor), and etc.
My grandfather lived there since my father was born and until he passed away 3 years ago. Since then, my uncle's family had been living there, and I had no chance to enter his house anymore cause I wasn't close to my uncle. I felt sad, but it was just natural.
And lately, my uncle has decided to renovate his whole house recently, and had started tearing down. Lately, when I walk pass my grandfather's house everyday, I can peek through his revealed rooms, though completely broken, and it somehow evokes all my memories with him.
Nothing lasts forever, but memories stay. We make our own photo albums or make movies in ourselves, and keep it in our little small box. And lately, I've been searching for my grandfather's memory whenever I walk pass by. However, like I mentioned in my title, life goes on.
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