Dear Manila, My Art Has A Body Count [A Piece of Frankie Thurteen]

Art is limited, my friend. It is not infinite, it is very finite. But Art is also a small velvet coated room for people like me, and I work best in a place that limits me because oddly enough, it makes me feel … infinite.

Greetings, Kapafeds! It is I, the Grunge Grappler, The tortured Soul Artist, and the young blood wrestler from Katipunan, Quezon City.  I’ve been wrestling for a year now and I’ve learned a lot not just inside of that canvass but outside, however, this piece isn’t just about  the tokens I attained in this game but also for all of you Kapafeds want to know  who I really  am and who think they know exactly what I’m about.

So go ahead, crack your knuckles, grab your sodas, play some AFI (Just to set you in the mood I am in as I write this with my left hand, oh the struggle.) and let me help you sink your teeth into my mind.

Adrienne
Photo by Noel Tanjeco

Ever since I started walking I was already deeply in love with art and everything about it. I grew up with a family of Portuguese descent who’s deeply into classical music and piano, everything about them was pleasant and classy, but I, I was the one sneaking into the living room at night just so I can go watch wrestling and pretend my hair was all colored up, kikwear pants on, looking like an angst child, looking like Jeffrey Nero Hardy. I grew up wanting to not be like my family, I refused to walk in their leather shoes  because I had my own combat boots that only I can walk into and I had my sketchpads that easily became my best friend. Just like Jeff Hardy, I was drawing weird graphics on my sketchbooks and I would make stories for them, I like to think of my art as not just my ownership but as my peers, my friends, and when I really feel alone…my family. The first ever painting I ever did was of this mutated alien face, it had spiky red hair and a humanoid but an extremely anorexic face, Axl was his name. When I made Axel, my agenda was to breathe life into something  that can be put on a wooden chair beside my bed and talk to (because let’s be honest, humans can be terrible sometimes) and maybe even jam with when I play my guitar.  I thought I was invincible while creating Axl, I viewed art as a limitless medium, but I was wrong, I was very much limited. I couldn’t give Axl  a physical body, all I can give him was the power to listen to my grievances. However, the limitations that art gives us are only for our own good, you can never evolve as an artist if you only know how to work in a field where the accessibilities are infinite. Art is meant to be limited just for everyone to see who the real artists are, who can breathe life and spirit into a piece, no matter what it is.

Rex Frankie
Rex Lawin destroyed Frankie Thurteen’s arm at MWF 1: Kasaysayan. Photo by Vlad Gonzales

Axl has passed on but recently I fell in love with someone, someone who’s existent but at the same time, not really. It’s a very odd feeling, the latest work I made wasn’t even my full creation, she was already here before the others who I made. She has two eyes that can see my spirit, and a third one above her forehead that whispers and sings to me like an angel when I look at it, when I look at her. Her name is Adrienne, she is my angel, looks after me and counsels me while healing my wounds.  It’s a little unfortunate that the first time I was able to bring her along with me to meet all of you beautiful Kapafeds was the day when “Danger” Rex Lawin destroyed my right forearm. While Rex Lawin was attempting to kill my career, all I can hear was her screaming in agony.  Rex, that messed me up.  You might have took away my arm and my artistic outlet, my colors, but you left me color I can play with, the color of the bloodlust brewing in me. I might be limited with only one arm working fine, but I am an artist, and people like me… we find creative ways to get around when someone puts a barrier in front of us. Rex Lawin, I will never  forget.

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