"Sad Eyes on Happy Faces"

They all make it look like everything is fine; that all things are bearable even if they're not. And sometimes its hurts me to know that right after a seemingly comforting "smile", the struggle continues; the torment lingers.

I don't normally think much everytime I get the chance to capture people's emotions through my camera. All I know is that once the shutter sounds, a certain memory is paused even for a second. Thereafter, a moment is forever framed.

And like all pictures that deserve fond rekindling, I browse through my albums artlessly. I revisit them in vivid details.

Unsurprisingly, in most cases, a melodrama sets in. I can't help but recall the narratives behind each image; a story, which at times, only the person behind the camera knows.

As the tale unfolds, sadly, the burden of recalling their troubled past haunts me in ways I can't explain. I become too attached to their problems as much as I get too attached to them personally. Whence, it becomes emotionally difficult for me, at one time or another, to handle their adversities.

I know that there is a lie in each smile.

I know that there is pain in each gaze.

I know that there is suffering in each smirk.

I know that there is innocence in each stare.

I know that, indescribably, there is something wrong in the photos:

"I see sad eyes on happy faces."

They all make it look like everything is fine; that all things are bearable even if they're not. And sometimes its hurts me to know that right after a seemingly comforting "smile", the struggle continues; the torment lingers.

This is probably one of the downfalls of being an artist: to be able to take a glimpse of their souls through my lens without prejudices.

No pretensions.

No fabrications.

Just plain exposition of their existential frailty.

I couldn't care less, plain-speakingly, but I have to remain true to myself to document their emotions more than their thoughts. After all, "thoughts are never honest," says Albert Camus, "emotions are."

28.09.2020

02:30 PM

Digital Art by: Lot Jr Tabilid

Tool: Autodesk Sketchbook