In August, I did a mid-year review for the widening that was New York, and wow, looking through those doodles now, I wonder how things could’ve taken a turn so bad after a moment of wonderment like that. I didn’t know it then, but I needed that refilling of the well to get through the -ber months that were waiting for me in Manila.
I drew and doodled and painted less after August, but managed enough to squeeze out the below review for the tailend of 2014. If you look carefully between the drawn lines, you will see the struggle to keep seeing the glass as half-full, up until the point of despair. I always say that no news is good news, but it doesn’t apply to creative output. No art is definitely bad news.
This is one of those times when I can declare loudly and clearly that I am so glad for endings. Thank you and goodbye, 2014:
Still thankful for the year in its entirety. Everything is preparation:
I wrote this a month ago. My circumstances have changed since then (aha!), but it continues to amaze me how things can make a 180 degree turn in an instant. Everyday, anything (and everything) can happen.
So much to be thankful for, friends. Let’s be blessed. 🙂
xx
I remember a rule I learned in sales early on–make the choice for your customer. When you flood a client with options, it is easy to overwhelm him or her into paralysis, and you end up with no sale.
I’m single, in my thirties, and I live in Manila.
Since March I’ve been engaging the wonderful world of online dating, and in just a few months I’ve turned around years of drought or selective raindrops in my love life, to a downpour. The floodgates have opened, mightily, and I am grateful for the abundance. I’ve had to learn to embrace the idea of dating multiple men at the same time, of investing time and energy and opening up authentically to each match but without getting attached. Every new encounter was also an encounter with myself–I got to know things I liked and didn’t like. My online profile was written and rewritten countless times, and checking in on new matches became my everyday past time.
It was fun and genuinely surprising to meet interesting men. Initially even just the validation that they do exist–above-decent, desirable men!–was enough cause for celebration, but eventually it helped to get friends on the dating boat as well. Exchanging stories on our latest dates fed our drive to keep on going.
It came to the point that I found myself being careful though, about getting caught up in the choices. I am a geek, and when I get started on any research, I do not get satisfied until I do a comprehensive swipe. We’ve been brainwashed since childhood that it’s good to “collect and select”, but I didn’t want this to come to the point of chasing after the idea of dating, because I haven’t collected enough. What is enough to begin with?
Because dating has become borderless, there is now an inexhaustible supply of single men, and the temptation to try every jellybean flavor is real and actionable. Choices that were close to none before are now waiting in line, and I’m not sure that’s a good thing. You have a match! was a sculpture I did right when I began online dating, and even then, I was already asking, “does it enable or disable relationships?”
It’s a great time to be reassessing this now.
A week ago I decided to delete my online profiles. I feel strangely empowered by having nipped in the bud this fascination with all the fishes in the sea, not because I finally got myself a prize catch, but because I’m done fishing. I’ve seen what’s out there, or more precisely, what it’s like out there, to be actively seeking, and now I want to go back to land and maybe graze for a while. I want to slow down, to the permanence of a solid foundation, a real investment for the long haul. There is something about old school wooing and dating that I still find charming, as in handwritten love letters and chance encounters. I was taken with the promise of efficiency of filtered dates and the broad range of matches outside the geographic confines of Manila, but at the end of the day, I succumb to the hope for a real man, within reach.
I discovered the joy of painting outdoors with Teacher Elaine Herbosa and the rest of the painters at L’Arc en Ciel in early 2013. We would travel 2 hours each way to head to the beaches of Batangas for the day and paint under the scorching sun with our oils and makeshift easels. Paintings would be gestural and finished in an hour, each one a composite not just of visual elements on the final work, but also of the outdoor conditions that influenced the output.
All the more, I cherished every painting/drawing day I had in Central Park last summer. On my last week, I woke up extra early in the mornings and took my canvas to spots that spoke to me. Here are some works from those visits:
A sketch of my good friend, Tom, who took a nap while I sat under the trees and ate sweet summer peaches (side note: I didn’t know peaches were okay to be eaten with their skins! I even blanched them in boiling water to peel off those furry furs at some point).
I love trees. Anywhere, any kind. But especially when they’re inviting and used to being around people, like the ones in public parks. There’s something so reassuring about them.
Summer morning
Acrylic on canvas paper
16×20 inches
July 22, 2014
Quick plein air painting at Central Park. Happy I’m able to paint faster now, this was done in 1.5 hours.
Started painting in the Park yesterday as a slow goodbye to NYC. Was drawn to this spot with a dog sculpture, Balto. #nyc #sunnyday #centralpark #outdoor #painting #pleinair #balto #trees #summer
Doodle from one of Central Park’s big boulders, overlooking a baseball field.
I loved waking up to a painting day everyday at the Art Students League. My schedule ran from 1:00pm-9:30pm, which now seems long and exhausting, but I especially enjoyed staying late nights at the studio, working on Abstract Paintings under Frank O’Cain.
Here’s my very first output from his class:
I am still; I am moving.
Acrylic on canvas paper
18×24 inches
July 2, 2014
My first completed work under Frank O’Cain, abstracted from a doodle I made in January. Frank was my top choice for a teacher at the League. I really wanted to find creative direction in abstract painting, and I resonated with his works and statements when I first saw them online. I met him last week — he’s a jolly old man with a sense of flow about him. The class I’m taking is Painting, Composition and Abstraction, and he kept reminding everyone to be aware of movement and balance in our work. He told me to come back today with a painting to show him. I came up with three works. He liked two of them. It was a happy moment when he smiled and said, “You’re good. You’ve got it!” I still have so much to learn and I don’t want to be a one-hit wonder, so I will just let loose and be as playful as I can be. Frank said I can be bolder or surer of my strokes (as opposed to having wishy washy and “safe” strokes). His parting words were very encouraging though: “You’re going to have a lot of fun here!”
On my second week, Frank did a demo, abstracting from still life:
He went from this…
…to this:
…in 1.5 hours. The overall spirit of the demo was lighthearted and cheerful, and Frank was indulgent with our questions and excited interruptions. It’s always a pleasure to watch an artist get in the zone and have his way with his medium, but when a teacher is doing it to deliberately share his creative process, it’s even more rewarding, for everyone.
Here’s the aftermath of his palette:
Looks straightforward and honest. I like that about acrylics.
Other works I did under his watch:
Brooklyn Bridge
Acrylic on gesso board
12×16 inches
July 2, 2014
Black squirrel
16×20 inches
Acrylic on canvas paper
July 3, 2014
Just playing! Learned to use bigger brushes today — enjoyed my strokes here. This one is for that nice day I saw a black squirrel at the park. #painting #acrylic #abstract #art #goodvibe
Abstracting the black squirrel…
Remember the Black Squirrel painting from last week? This is how it looks now. I’ve been going deeper into abstract painting, which for me is an even more demanding process than realism. You can’t do abstract work if you’re not centered. The piece may be overworked as it is, but I feel as if something else still wants to pop out. My teacher says that with every abstract work, you come out with either something insane or something that works. Let’s see where this leads. 🙂 #painting #acrylic #abstract #art #artstudentsleagueofnewyork #nyc #wip #workinprogress #justplaying
Here’s another one I’m working on, inspired by that lovely Sunday bike ride in Governor’s Island.
On Week Two at the Art Students League, I switched to a painting class, still under Mary Beth McKenzie, and came up with these portraits. The small double portrait was a struggle for me, so for the next poses, I opted for solos. I also discovered the joy of painting on unstretched canvas pads–perfect for quick paintings on-the-go.
My favorites from this series are the stylized Betty and Henry I, done with experiments with the palette knife.
First day of painting from life today under Mary Beth McKenzie. I have never painted a live figure before but gosh how I’ve missed painting! All the colors! I started with yellows, blues and reds, but muted them in tones to get a more realistic feel. Even then, you can tell that I’m not a big fan of traditional colors. Hopefully after 4 weeks of this I will have figured out something more concrete about what I like and don’t like in figure painting! Students at the League normally have 3 weeks to finish a painting, after which a new pose is introduced. I’m coming in on week2 for this pose. How nice it must be to work on a huge canvas! It requires a different mindset. Composition-wise, it’s a great exercise. I want to take my works home, though, so I’m painting small (18×24 inches — which is still a good size).
Seated Male and Female Acrylic on canvas
18×24 inches
Work in progress
Day2 update on this painting. Most details done, but I’m still on the fence about what to do with the background. Tomorrow our teacher comes in for a critique. Hope she has helpful insights. I see people in class use mirrors to check for errors (easier to spot in mirror-image)…maybe I’ll do that too tomorrow! 🙂 #painting #acrylic #live #figure #art #artstudentsleagueofnewyork
The many transformations of the background:
We are alone.
Acrylic on canvas
18×24 inches
July 11, 2014
What is intimacy? Why do we sometimes feel more alone when we’re with someone?
—–
Thought I’d have this afternoon to work on the final details of this but our female model didn’t show up today. Will have to pick it up at some point and finish it from memory or imagination, but for now it is done.
Quick painting today, under 2 hours. Tried to capture the model’s mood but I think I showed more of mine. :p Trying to paint in the same loose way I did those large scale drawings. But I like the rawness of this. #painting #acrylic #figure #live #female
“Models are posing.”
Acrylic on Canvas
18×24 inches
July 16, 2014
We paint from life at the League. There are two models posing together but my seat has the better view for a single figure. Betty will hold this pose from 1pm to 430pm everyday, with 5 minute breaks every 20 mins, for three weeks.
#painting #acrylic #figure #live #female #portrait #studio #artstudentsleagueofnewyork #nyc
Two more versions of Betty. I’ve been painting one Betty a day this week! #painting #acrylic #figure #live #female #portrait #studio #artstudentsleagueofnewyork #nyc #art
Blue Betty
Acrylic on canvas
18×24 inches
July 17, 2014
Betty
Acrylic on canvas
18×24 inches
July 17, 2014
Experimented with lines and texture — I like the scrapes and scratches and the stylized edges. Teacher said that among my four works this week, the paintings that are most succesful are this and Blue Betty. Now I’m understanding the benefits of 1) painting everyday, and 2) painting from life, and 3) painting the same subject everyday.
Henry II
Acrylic on canvas
18×24 inches
July 22, 2014
Last portrait from Live Figure Painting class. Tried to incorporate lessons from abstract class into the background. Not sure if it was successful, but I’m happy with the color play.
I’ve been dreaming of taking classes at the Art Students League for years. Imagine my glee when I finally arrived in New York last summer, and more so after signing up for my first official class: Large-Scale Drawing under Mary Beth McKenzie. I bought my large-format paper, metal clips, charcoal, Hake brushes, and ink, and like a giddy schoolgirl knocked on the 4th floor studio of the League. I attended two afternoon sessions in this class, each one lasting about 3.5 hours. Below are the drawings I came up with, captioned with thoughts for each day. Unfortunately, these were too large to fit into my suitcase and I had to leave them behind in New York.
* * *
My many firsts: first nude in over 3 months (di na sanay!), first in large-scale format, and first work at the Art Students League. I don’t think I’ll get to take this home, so if you’re in New York and have lots of wall space, wink me (yes, wink me). 😉
Male Nude Vine charcoal on paper 36×48 inches (approximate) June 23, 2014
Male Nude II
Vine charcoal on paper
36×48 inches (approximate)
June 23, 2014
I had a harder time with the long pose (more time = better work, more details). Must learn not to put pressure on myself.
#drawing #onthespot #40minutepose #live #male #nude #nyc
Female Nude II
Sumi ink on paper
36×48 inches (approximate)
June 23, 2014
My first attempt at Sumi ink drawing/painting. I just had two wide Hake brushes and couldn’t get thin strokes in so I just went with it and played. It was so much fun. I was surprised that people in my class really liked this work. Malakas daw siya.
#drawing #onthespot #20minutepose #live #female #nude #nyc #artstudentsleagueofnewyork
Female Nude II and III
Sumi ink on paper
36×48 inches (approximate)
June 23, 2014
The one on my left is my favorite from yesterday. I rushed to the Art shop downstairs during the 5-minute break and bought a smaller Chinese brush that let me do proper detailing. I think I’m going to enjoy Sumi ink!
#drawing #onthespot #20minutepose #40minutepose #live #female #nude #nyc #artstudentsleagueofnewyork
Here’s a closer look, also at my drawing process:
Seated Female Nude
Charcoal and Sumi ink on paper
36×48 inches ( approximate )
June 24, 2014
First drawing today. I decided to play with both charcoal and ink in one work– I think the layers came out nice. This particular model was fussy about the cold. The class monitor had to turn off the airconditioner many times even if she already had a heater dedicated for her. Made me wonder how nude models manage during winter.
#drawing #onthespot #20minutepose #live #female #nude #nyc #artstudentsleagueofnewyork
The same work before being inked:
Reclined Female Nude
Charcoal and Sumi ink on paper
36×48 inches ( approximate )
June 24, 2014
No fuss, fluid drawing that was just so playful.
#drawing #onthespot #20minutepose #live #female #nude #nyc #artstudentsleagueofnewyork
Reclined Female Nude II
Charcoal and Sumi ink on paper
36×48 inches ( approximate )
June 24, 2014
Quick, looser version of the same pose. Drawn in under 10 minutes. Still large-scale.
#drawing #onthespot #20minutepose #live #female #nude #nyc #artstudentsleagueofnewyork
Seated Female Nude
Charcoal and Sumi ink on paper
36×48 inches ( approximate )
June 24, 2014
This was a longer pose so I decided to do measurements to get proportions right. Still something I struggle with (I spent 20 minutes just measuring!), and you can see my mistakes in the finished work. I like how it turned out and think it’s even better with the layers of drawings visibly there.
#drawing #onthespot #40minutepose #live #female #nude #nyc #artstudentsleagueofnewyork
Work-in-progress:
Seated Male Nude
Charcoal on paper
36×48 inches ( approximate )
June 26, 2014
Seated Male Nude
Charcoal and Sumi ink on paper
36×48 inches ( approximate )
June 26, 2014
Just playing around with the male figure and face. #drawing #onthespot #20minutepose #live #male #nude #nyc #artstudentsleagueofnewyork
Reclined Male and Female Nude
Charcoal on paper
36×48 inches ( approximate )
June 26, 2014
We always have 2 models posing side by side in class and this was the first time I drew them together. Each was a challenging pose to do on its own — I wish I had more time to detail the woman, but even the male model gave me a thumbs up when he saw my drawing. Heehee.
I document my process to help keep track of mistakes and triumphs. Choosing to zoom in on the models in this work and do a back-to-back pose was new for me. Lesson learned: experiment! With 40 minutes to set up, compose, sketch and detail a piece, it’s natural to draw in default mode. For me that meant doing sight size (you put your paper next to the model and copy your subject “as is”– in the same size from where you’re standing). Scaling up or down requires extra effort and in my case, leaves room for mistakes in proportion. But!!! I really am proud I pushed myself a little in this drawing. If I were to keep this I’d probably cut out the woman and display it this way. Starting next week I’ll explore classes that will let me paint longer poses. Some models keep the same pose for 4 weeks to let artists work without having to rush. Amazing possibilities!
Reclined Male and Female Nude (detail)
Charcoal on paper
36×48 inches ( approximate )
June 26, 2014
A friend likes to greet me with, “What is your story?” It is his way of cutting through the small talk and being present in every conversation. I am always thankful to be asked this, and it has defined our friendship for years, giving it a premise (and promise) of “I am interested in you, and I acknowledge that your story changes.”
Over the weekend I had the grace to flesh out my story now, at age 33, and as always, my answers began with even more questions:
Where is home? Where do I want it to be? Why?
How will I build a new home? Who will be there with me?
What kind of art will I create? What is art, really?
Will I be able to live on art in the Philippines?
If community is at the core of my art, how essential is leaving and living abroad to my process? Where do I thrive?
How does one study art?
The big questions, those outside of me, also joined in:
If this is an exciting time to be alive because science and spirit are finally meeting, what is the work to be done now?
What is needed?
Where am I needed?
I’ve been at the threshold of big changes for a while now, and it’s easy to fall into perfection paralysis, but it’s the questioning that sharpens what needs sharpening and thrusts what needs thrusting.
How about you? What is your story? What are your questions?
For this project, we were asked to change the color of a universally known subject to effect a change in meaning or perception.
I chose a subject that finds meaning in being blue: the sea. It is familiar to us and envelopes us, comprising two thirds of our physical world (it’s easy to forget how awesome that is!). Azure, aqua and turquoise are colors we associate with the sea. Also, Filipinos, by default, are sea lovers–it’s our reality, with our 7,107 islands, and we face it on a primary, practical level.
So what happens when we take something so familiar and automatic, and change its “clothes”? To change the color of the sea to red is tantamount to taking away not just its surface identity, but what makes it what it is. I tried to picture this reality without the common references to a red sea: biblical (Moses and the exodus from Egypt), environmental (dolphin/whale hunt), war (bloody battle). How would we relate to the sea if it were red? If we never knew it to be blue, would it still be a place of rest and recreation? Would swimming still be our immediate response to its waters?
I wanted to depict a scenario of the sea as a forgotten, taunting place, akin to a forbidden forest which no one wishes to enter. It may be intense in its anger when its waves come crashing on the shore, but even in its calmest, as in a hidden cove, it is uninviting. It invades you, pushes you back, as is the nature of the color red. And yet it is still alluring because it is unknown and forbidden.
To put this alternative reality of a red sea into context, I wanted to show how a typical day at a red beach would be like. One’s outfit would be a great determiner for this, and I initially considered having a family in full wetsuits and protective gear, wading in its waters. But I realized a red sea wouldn’t even merit a swimming scenario, and just went with the idea of barricading the sea.
The fence is there to quietly say that the sea is off limits. Precisely because of this, however, it taunts and summons. It becomes more alluring. I chose to add in a woman looking out into the sea, curious but hesitant, acknowledging that she is drawn to this quietly agitating force.
I wanted to render the whole work using a palette knife, to complement the edgy feel of a red sea. This resulted in a flat work that highlighted nothing. I later decided to give emphasis to the water by rendering it with a brush, and adding details, such as waves and ripples. I think this was a successful choice, creating a mood for the work that is somber, brooding, and yet inviting in its danger of being unknown.
Composition-wise, I chose to situate the viewer of the work right in the middle of the water—hence the beach in the distance and the platform at the foreground. I wanted to give the feeling of being invaded by the water but only at arm’s length–the viewer is also kept at bay (because the sea is forbidden). I felt this to be very red.
I am happy with the outcome of this project, and feel that I was able to effectively meet the objective of changing perception or meaning through a change in color.
This exercise was also an exercise in philosophy for me, because it made me delve into the effect of color on how we see and react to things. It made me understand how perception is so fleeting–a small adjustment in color, for example, alters the mood of a work, whether intended or not. This is important to really understand because perception is what we are working with as visual artists—we create or recreate realities by putting together visual elements that are received or perceived by our audience. To learn how to play and manipulate images to direct perception is a skill I wish to develop and master.
I never liked watching trailers. And no movie, restaurant, book reviews for me either, please. They preempt the experience.
I get a high out of experiencing things raw, with no bias, no inkling of what’s to come. No one likes spoilers, but even previews are a no-no for me. I’d rather take the risk of sitting through a bad movie than being influenced by a friend’s takeaway from it.
But it’s not just the high that draws me in. It’s the mindset of taking things as they come. It’s another way of being present.
A pre-view is an initial look. A peep. Is there value in steering clear of this peeping?
When we don’t make room for previews, we let ourselves be completely open to engage what’s before us. Instead of anticipating the cute, sappy moments in a plot or expecting the climax or anti-climax, we just suspend everything and meet the experience face-to-face. How exhilarating it is to know that we don’t know!
The same applies to life situations.
It’s become overused these days to “live in the now.” What does it really mean?
I’ve been preaching it (to myself) for so long, but it’s not as easy to practice it.
Last month I had a life-defining trip that made me decide to move to New York. I gave myself a year to tie loose ends in Manila before I would (and could) jump into the great unknown. Pursuing a creative life in NYC is as cliche as it gets, but it means much more than that to me. Life in the raw streets, daily interactions with people so different (and also indifferent), having no social, emotional, professional/career crutches — this is what awaits me. Put in there the possibility of finding a life partner (how can I omit this?), and voila — it’s enough to make one drop everything and jump right in. Or maybe do the exact opposite: to run the other way, fast.
In truth I have no guarantee of what is waiting for me there — does anything really wait for us anyway? — but what I know without a doubt is what I am leaving behind: friends and family and the warmth of shared everydays. To uproot myself and start from scratch in my 30s — that is scary as hell and it’s been taunting me since I got back.
Is this what it means to prepare? To anticipate? I got a preview of what’s out there, and now I feel as if I’ve been living my life on spectator mode: going through the motions of what needs to be done, to make straight the path. I get together with friends and in my heart, I’m already mourning the loss of intimate moments with them once I leave. I sit through dinner with my family and get nostalgic about conversations as we have them. I feel like I’m one step ahead, but not really.
I can’t keep living this way. Not for another year. It’s detached, like living in a catch-22. It’s frustrating to be always pining for what’s nearly there but not yet, all the while missing out on what’s already in front of me. This is no way to prepare.
So how do I engage this preparation year?
I don’t know. No more previews, please, at the very least. And in this case, no advanced nostalgia either.
In light of what is happening around the world these days — wars, disasters, privacy breaches, dying economies, corrupted morals, misplaced values in business and education — I sometimes wonder if my self-indulgent essays are worth anything. To me they are a necessary purging, and I can sleep at night thinking all this is necessary so I can be a better person to others in the long run. But of what value are they to others right now? This is the relevance question all over again, and it’s the same with my art (or this process of learning art). Every time I spend 12 hours making tedious, careful lines for my school plate or slave over getting a smooth baseboard for my canvas, I wonder if it’s making a difference, really.
It may be vain to think that my life is worth a stranger’s time and attention, but modesty aside, it’s also a lie to think otherwise.
Someone once told me that I should just paint and write what is true for me when it is true, because there will be people out there who will be able to relate to it. And for this alone — even if the resonance is just with one person — I should keep doing what I do. There is value in doing things truthfully.
I go back to one of the few insights I retained from college philosophy: Paul Ricouer’s “personal”. He said that by doing what we do — our job — with love and gusto, we already engage the other — the stranger. What is objective, non-specific and non-directed, becomes personal and intimate.
I had strange dreams last month. This female creature was in one of them.
She was a gypsy-medium-crone with three pupils in one eye and five in the other. She was part of a 4-nightmare series that came one after the other, all in one night.
I rarely have dreams related to personal circumstances in my life, but I’m glad my cousin helped me decode this particular series.
Sometimes, it’s easier to attribute the inexplicable to the supernatural — it lets us dodge it because it’s external to us — but it happens too, that our triggers (and solutions) are actually more familiar to us than we realize.
Just got back from New York City. A friend called it a life-defining trip even before I left — and it has become that. Very much.
It’s difficult to describe the breadth and depth of where I am right now. I feel so wide. Or widened. Widening. I looked through photographs from the trip to try to organize them into a shareable format: over 2,000 pictures and a few videos, but still I feel they lack the spirit of what the visit meant for me.
I now feel pulled from all sides. A bittersweet pulling and pushing, one that will entail fresh hellos and goodbyes.
I’ve dreamt of moving to New York to study art for a long time. Last time I visited the city was four years ago in 2010. That was when “Empire State of Mind” was topping the charts, and I remember a goosebump moment on the train from Connecticut to NYC. Alicia Keys was softly singing it in acoustic, and there I was, not even in New York and already crying from “living the dream”. It was definitely an OA moment.
But this time, there was no drama. I’ve been in flow, in joyful acceptance of what is.
August 5, 2014
Two weeks have passed since I got back. I can’t behind jetlag anymore and am feeling the need to debrief from the trip.
To grasp an experience is always a struggle. To grasp in itself is to keep chasing after something — like a butterfly hopping from flower to flower. It’s like making sense of a dream… you remember bits and pieces but the whole picture evades you. It stays at an arm’s length, there, at a distance, separate, even if it’s actually bursting to envelope you and take you in. I’d rather flow through a moment than contain it.
And yet here I am. Documenting New York. For you. And me.
* * *
Some doodles for the bits and pieces:
Every great adventure starts with the calm, to refill the well and stock up on hugs from favorite people, things, places.
What do you bring on an epic journey? How about the mountains and wide open spaces…
…to gain momentum to just do it, go for it, jump in.
Traveling is a big reset button.
You leave behind the old and embrace the new with equal ferocity and hope.
Surprises find you, in ways big and small.
And after the newness of everything passes, you find it within yourself to be still again…
and celebrate the loneliness…
Before you know it, the ride is over.
And what you have to take home with you is an invitation to come back.
To take the giant leap…
…and reconnect with the great big world out there…again and again.
There is so much to be thankful for…
…but if I were ever to do the big dance, now would be the time to do it.
To reach out…
…and reach in…
Not without fear — it is scary out there — but to brave it just the same.
Because we are in our 30s, and in our 30s we can’t afford to hide from what makes us happy.
