These are Ouie’s paintbrushes. He gave them to me, one by one or in pairs, because he bought new ones from Lazada. Yes, they are hand-me-downs—very precious and dear to me.
“I have something for you,” he would start.
And we would laugh so boisterously that it rivaled the cawing of the crows roosting in a nearby tree. The personal joke was that I knew he had done something reckless or impulsive again (which often involved food), and I, in part, was his enabler.
I once told him that at some point, he had to hit the brakes.
He sighed and said, “I know.”
I would leave him to his disposition until his passing on October 22, 2023. To this day, I wish I had been more strict and upfront in keeping him in his lane. But I know it would have limited and stifled the creativity that flowed into his daily routines and habits, his beliefs, and the ethos he lived by.
I have seen Ouie create art countless times. It was like a second skin to him. I have seen him stage and organize gallery exhibits in school. He breathed this in and out, again and again. I have seen him engage with students, myself included, withholding judgment so we could gain and reclaim our innate creativity that had been marred and damaged by a cruel world. He was, and still is, most beautiful in this way.
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