Authored by Jenny Trinh

I’ve always made the most random shit in my bedroom. To this day, these four pink walls have watched me scribble endlessly in my sketchbook, talk shit on the phone with my friends, dance and cry past the witching hour. They’ve seen it all. Sometimes, I wonder if these walls could talk, what would they tell me? Are they proud of the person I’ve become? Is this what they expected? Would they yell at me for ruining their paint with my band posters, photobooth strips and Polaroids?

Growing up, I kept characters like Daria Morgendorffer, Jane Lane, Nancy Drew and Violet Baudelaire in my pocket. My fictional heroines showed me how wonderful the world was (and still is) with good music, films and books. They reminded me why carrying my sketchbook everywhere I went, why spending my lunches and recesses with my best friends, listening to music, drawing and annoying Ms. Starr (sorry, we love you), was how high school panned out for me. They reminded me that when you find something you truly love and can’t imagine a world without it – it’s something to hold on to forever and to keep nurturing and growing.

This has always been the only way I knew how to live. Not to be so melodramatic but my soul would crush into a tiny billion pieces if a day were ever to come where art ceased to exist. I remember being such a baby when I realised that all I ever wanted to do in life was create whether it be drawing, messing around on Garageband, or editing shitty fan videos of my favourite movie scenes to my favourite songs. I was utterly terrified and I remember thinking to myself, ​why couldn’t I just be interested in business, medicine or something? Why couldn’t I be a creative person in another life? How am I supposed to sustain myself? Why this?

I wished I had been kinder to myself back then. To do something for the love of it rather than for the sake of it, is so truly special and whatever that may be to you, dear reader, please hold onto it. Please keep that in your pocket. Maybe my head is up in the clouds when I say this but I don’t care: I truly believe good things arise in time when you’re doing something you genuinely love.

Last month, I performed for the first time and I was so overwhelmingly excited and terrified. Club 4A was comprised of such a stellar line-up and I felt so privileged to have performed alongside such talented artists.

It was so strange and surreal to present what I’ve made mostly in my bedroom and then to have it just float out there in that room. It was so overwhelmingly terrifying and I felt the butterflies in my stomach multiply that night. I could feel my heart ready to jump out of my throat. My heart put on her coat, her hat and her sunglasses and boy, was she ready to say ‘hasta la vista’ and leave me there. That feeling lasted for what felt like a whole decade but as the night continued and more people spilt onto the floor, I felt an eerie sense of ease and pride within myself. I felt myself grow on that night.

I remember hugging my fucking amazing angel friends who have been so supportive. To have them there and spend some of their Saturday night with me when they could have been literally anywhere else, was so so nice and I can’t thank them enough for being in my life. I probably would have crumbled on that stage if it weren’t for them.

Ableton experiments, 2AM sketchbook scribbilings, thinking about how these audios would connect and work visually and storyboarding that I’ve done over these past few months. Advice from my amazing mentors from New Age Noise (formerly known as All Girl Electronic) and long YouTube tutorials. Inserting interview samples from Winona Ryder and Keanu Reeves and sampling my favourite movies like Ex Machina. That night was a culmination of all that.

So when it was all over in 40 minutes, I could not help but feel like I’ve been emptied.

And that’s just the thing. It wasn’t a dooming sense of emptiness. It was an emptiness that was ready to be filled up again.

I am not going to lie to you – I am still full of self-doubt and anxiety about anything and everything (that’s a story for next time, let this scorpio hold onto her secrets for now, okay?) but what I’m doing now, makes me feel fulfilled and happy.

That’s something to hold onto, right?

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