TINY STORIES NO. 2: A GIFT WITHIN GIFTS

Overly grainy photo y'all

We both laughed when I read the statement on the paper bag: Please enjoy this extraordinary act of generosity. In our circle of friends, I am not bragging when I say that I am the giver among us all. When February rolled in, they have begun asking me questions like “What gift do you want?”, “Are you sure you don’t want anything specific?”, “This is your last chance, what book do you want to receive?”  I can’t suppress my laughter when a friend told me how they talked about what to get me, or how to make up for what I did for their birthdays. Years ago, maybe I would have asked them to spoil me with material things, but maybe it comes with growing up that we learn to value more of the people around us rather than the gifts they give. But I do appreciate the efforts they went through to reciprocate what I’ve done for their birthdays (a letter with sincere words is more than enough for me).

SEEING THE SIGNS AND THE WONDERS

These words have been long overdue. They were repeatedly contained in my prayers, written on my journal, typed through posts in social media, and stored through locked notes in my phone. Not being a wordsmith makes it longer for me to piece them together, just like what I always say: bear with me, as I try to connect the stars that formed my constellation (okay, that was too poetic). But these made me sure of three things on the art universe:

1.  A COMPLIMENT CAN GO A LONG WAY AND WARM A PERSON’S HEART IF YOU SAY IT SINCERELY (it’s easy to tell when it’s just lip service). Mine came last January 2015. We were busy doing our vision boards when Ms. Rhiza came to our table and said: You really have an eye for art.

2015 Vision board. Image on the center was an illustration by Cla Gregorio, cut out from Scout Magazine.

TINY STORIES NO. 1: STRANGER THAN FICTION

“You should stop reading fiction books and start reading these titles.” Mother said as she pointed to the stack of books in her workstation, bearing titles like Talent Is Not Enough, The Path to Wealth, and more business like words that doesn’t fascinate me enough to pay 10 seconds of attention.

“It’s different for everybody. My inspiration isn’t rooted in those kind of genres.” I quipped. Cutting the conversation short, just in case it would just turn into another argument or debate that I might be forced to engaged in.

I tend to put my thoughts in a back burner until I’m sure that they’re good enough to be served. The rest of the words here might be what I hold back during that day. 

FOR THE GIRL WHO DOESN’T KNOW HOW TO COOK

Photo grabbed from hookedonhouses.net 

 

First, you are not alone. If you think that you're a glitch to the feminine species who seem to be equipped with natural skills in whipping up food that tastes good, I repeat you are not alone. 

Second, there’s actually hope for you. Society seems to align us into a stereotype that cooking should be innate in a woman, but trust me cooking maybe a talent for some. But sometimes, it’s a skill to be learned. 

I know, because I am one of those girls.

SIXTEEN YEARS GONE

Once I was seven years old, my mama told me,

"Go make yourself some friends or you'll be lonely."
Once I was seven years old

It was a big big world, but we thought we were bigger
Pushing each other to the limits, we were learning quicker

You’re a bright young girl who seemed to be born with rose colored glasses. Most of my memories of you had already crumbled with time, but I also have vivid ones that I would never forget. There was the time when you didn’t hesitate to join an acting competition at school; a tear-jerking moment was needed to be shown, as you pretended that the doll was your mother. The crowd scared you but behind stood Nanay, cheering you on. Seeing her standing there was enough to melt the nervousness away. I could no longer remember if you won or maybe another person gets to take home the prize, still you were happy that you didn’t back out.

FOR AS LONG AS WE CAN

 

The weekend is coming to a close, but this one was stretched out to be enough. Not lacking for me to ask an extension. Not slow for me to cut it short. Just enough. For the mountains have called, and once again we headed to its direction.

After more than a year of not being able to climb, I finally had the chance of going back on track (or should I say trek?). It was a walk in the park, they said. But we're not even halfway through and my lungs were already gasping for air. My heart seems to be doing somersaults inside my chest. Pain was also starting to grip my back, enough to make me feel older than how I truly am. To think that it was a level 2 climb! It was supposed to be easier compared to my previous experiences.

LET ME SAY A FINAL ADIEU, 2015

  
 
 
 
 
But as for me, my feet had almost 
        slipped;
   I had nearly lost my foothold...

When my heart was grieved
   and my spirit embittered,
I was senseless and ignorant;
  I was a brute beast before you.

Yet I am always with you;
  You hold me by my right hand.
You guide me with your counsel,
  and afterward you will take me into 
         glory.

Whom have I in heaven but you?
   And earth has nothing I desire
      besides you.
My flesh and my heart may fail,
   but God is the strength of my 
           heart
   and my portion forever.
        PSALM 73: 2, 21-26

If there was a way to summarize 2015 in verses and words, this would be it. It was a tough year that I even asked myself if there was any sense in writing about it. Even the photographs above are a far contrast from what happened during in-between moments. But then I just have this habit of closing the year through a blog post or something written. Something to acknowledge the fact that life can be good and bad at times, but God...He just remained constant through it all. Through the heartaches, through the pain. Through the sorrow and through the rejoicing.

I am far from who I was, and who I wanted to be. Some of my plans in life did not go as expected. It has been a scary and exciting ride. A few things weren't one hundred percent clear when the year ended, but I guess that is where He wants me to be...out of my comfort zone and into His arms.

THE HISTORY OF ART AND ME

It all began on a mindless summer afternoon. I was a 9-year-old girl who’s starting to die out of boredom. I’ve scanned the bookshelf for the second time around hoping to catch an interesting title to read, but instead, my eyes landed on the strings of a queer looking book with Dragon Ball Z as the cover. I anticipated to find interesting drawings inside, only to be faced with blank pages. It was my first encounter with a sketch book. Though we may have melted crayons or blew watercolor droplets across pages during our elementary days, I can say that the seed of art was planted during the time that I held this sketchbook in my hands and discovered the joy of drawing.

The next minutes were spent copying young Goku from a poster. While the next days were spent convincing my brother and mother that I did not traced it, but copied it (hahaha there’s a huge difference you know). They wouldn’t believe me! They actually thought that I was lying. But when I repeated drawing another comic book character, they finally did. It was the height of afternoon anime, so the rest of the pages were filled with characters that I have grown to love. When you’re a 9 year-old, there’s a certain feeling that anything you draw can be considered as an art. It gave me the confidence I need to start joining poster making contests in school, eventually winning first and second place most of the time. It gave me hope that I have a future in pursuing this thing called art.

SLOW DOWN THE TIME

Two weeks has already passed since I ended my longest hiatus (40 days) from social media. Now that I’m back on the regular rounds of status, 3 x 3 grid, and more or less 140 characters to express my thoughts, I found myself thinking back to the time when I shut it off.

During the first week of my absence, people and fried were wondering, Why did you disconnect? Are you deactivated? Why the need? Well, because I was fed up. I was overwhelmed with all these things that a screen can present for hours without an end. The internet became a labyrinth that I didn’t know how to get out off. It was eating me up, and I was already beginning to feel lost. On the deeper side of things, I found myself questioning my own posts; do the things I post online still reflect a real version of me? Is there still authenticity? I might just be a bad case of being an over thinker, but still it bothered me.

COFFEE HOUSE

It's one of life's comfort; there are times when I find myself sitting there, looking around, and feeling that sometimes this is a better refuge than our own home.

My last year in high school taught me how to drink coffee, but it was four years spent in college that made me love this drink. It became a need for a sleepy head like me to the point that I can now classify 3-in-1 coffees based on its caffeine effect. It might be such a nerdy claim but my body was able to memorize the kind of coffee it needs to pull out an all-nighter, or last until my twelve noon classes, or even survive for another 24 hours.  It even became a substitute for water during the last stretch of our thesis (yes, coffee dependent at its best). It became a constant companion until now that I am working.

With the rise of third wave coffee, there's just a lot of places to drink, to visit, and to hang out in every corner. Back then we had to wait to be seated on a jam packed place. Can I just say that student nowadays have more choices when it comes to coffee shops? It's everywhere in the metro and my list of must-go places keeps on getting longer. For a coffee lover, this is such a treat.

I try to tick one coffee shop each month, whether it be with friends or for some quiet time alone. Sometimes I come for the coffee, sometimes I come in because of the place. No matter, the warmth it offers me never changes. It's a place to be -- somewhere you'll need not an excuse to be alone.

IN MY OWN WORDS

Words.

I can't pinpoint when I started to become drawn to them, but I know that these things we call nouns, verbs, adjectives and more -- I've truly learn to love them. Maybe it's because of my exposure to poems, or reading posts from newly discovered bloggers, or the simple act of practicing the old art of calligraphy and lettering has made them more special.

I've been on a reading spree lately; from blogs, newspapers, magazine, and books. I must say that if we are what we eat, we also become what we read. So I devoured each page, as if eating every word can make me good in letting the ink rush through paper. I can't help but admire people whose words seamlessly form into something wonderful. The gift of expressing myself through the written language can be quite evasive.

I stalled writing this entry because facing the blank page has become a bit more difficult for me. I am overcome with this thinking that everything will come sounding like a news report or a research paper. But I still want to improve. To break free from my mold. Not out of insecurity, but out of the desire to write something worth reading. And with that thought sprout another desire -- to find my own voice. To not be a mere echo of someone else. To have my own words instead of borrowed ones.

It might seem like a blabber for now, but I am hoping that in time these words of mine will solidify itself on these blank pages.

THE 100 DAY PROJECT: DEVO X TYPO

“A hundred days! I can recall the questions that raced through my mind before I decided to jump in: can I handle it? Will I push through when my schedule is jammed? Will I show up everyday, even when it hurts? – especially when it hurts?” -Elle Luna

 

These exact thoughts were running in my mind as I joined the challenge. It was a last minute decision mixed with excitement, fear, doubt, and a whole lot of mixed emotions. Knowing myself, I am aware that I tend to lose my sense of excitement in doing creative things or maybe anything in particular that requires my attention everyday. It makes me think if it will make me a slacker artist in the future. But this weakness was actually the reason why I jumped into the challenge – to develop discipline in handling my creativity. Art takes time and practice and patience. Excitement may die but I hope that my desire to improve in this craft won’t.

STORIES, FOR THE TIME BEING

I finally got around the task of cleaning my first Tumblr blog and was successfully able to move in another address. It was an exhausting thing to do, even if there were only 500+ posts, hiding them one by one took its toll in my eyes. I was thisclose to deleting them all just so I can make the process quicker, but of course some of them are precious memories of my college life that I can't bear to part with. Blame it on my sentimentality, but I just had to keep them even if they are now for my eyes only.

Looking back, I realized how much I struggled back then. It was only a personal blog filled with day to day events of a normal college girl, but at the back of my mind I wanted so much more. Most of the people I followed were cool "It" girls (if you've been in Tumblr for so long you know what I mean, and you know who they are), and some dashing dudes who seem to have it all; Name it: followers, sponsors, free passes to events, and free travel! Wow, who wouldn't want that? Because I must admit that I really did.  So I tried to achieve this same kind of status that they have and made sure that every post is well thought-of, a quote that every one can relate to, artistically curated photoset, and everything else in between. I wanted traffic, I wanted followers, I wanted to be recognized for whatever I put out there.

Only now did I realize that I wanted my blog to click so much, for that little space in the world wide web to matter, without knowing that I wasn't creating the sound that I want, but I have become a mere noise. Seriously, I didn't know that I was so frustrated for that kind of blogging career. It was like that moment when Ariel exchanged her voice for a pair of feet. Apologies for going on sappy Disney mode here, but there's no denying that I wanted to be a part of that "cool" blogging world. But three paragraphs after, and more than four years of staying in Tumblr that didn't happen.

So what's the point? Haha! I guess being inactive from that platform for almost a year did me good. I was truly reminded this time of why I started to blog, why I want to put my thoughts out there, why I want to post pictures or create typography, why I want to improve my writing skills -- and that is to share stories. To not desire too much superficial things but to actually connect with people, to read their blogs, to find a common ground, and eventually make one less stranger out of them. For years I've been trying so hard without knowing that the only thing I need is to share my story, to go down deeper in my heart and have the guts to actually put it out for other people to see.

After testing the waters for so long, this is the first time that I've felt excited that I have little space for my thoughts once again. I finally understood what take it slowly and be yourself truly means. I don't know how long I will continue blogging or how long I can keep this active; new questions will present itself as the days progress, but for now all we have are stories for the time being.

LIFE ON LISTS: 15 THINGS THAT MAKE ME HAPPY

Tree months running and most of my blog posts seem to be stacked in the drafts corner. Going back to the groove of blogging after a long time of not being able to write can be quite a challenge. I'm measuring up the capacity of my schedule, the tone and the voice of this little space. For now, let me share to you the 15 things that can lighten up my mood (thanks for tagging me Arli!). After all, lists can never go wrong.

1. Reading books, blogs, and magazines (nowadays, I prefer the not so glossy ones though).
2. Drinking coffee - a great companion from college days until the daily hustle at work.
3. Doing artsy fartsy stuff; drawing, sketching, calligraphy, and D.I.Y. decors are my favorite.
4. Watching movies.
5. Spending quality time with family and friends.
6. Discovering hole-in-the-wall cafes and restaurants.
7. Eating breakfast food.
8. Watching the sunrise (which is actually quite ironic because I'm not a morning person).
9. Receiving and sending snail mail or handwritten letters.
10. Taking long walks when I'm stressed out.
11. Flowers -- especially the sunny kind.
12. Poetry (but then sometimes it can be heartbreaking too). #somuchfeels
13. Being able to put my thoughts in paper.
14. Traveling and adventures in different places.
15. Encouraging and connecting with other people.

#NOFILTER

What if this hashtag is applied in my life and the way I portray myself in social media? I wonder how my posts would look like without any filter at all; These thoughts played in my mind a few weeks ago. I’m pretty sure that the answers to those questions wouldn’t look anywhere near like a perfectly set meal, or an artistically designed coffee, nor a colorful typography.

Life without filter is somewhere between the good, the bad, and the messy parts of our day to day lives. It’s a picture of struggling with the snooze button every morning, or trying to get a good spot on the jeepney to and from work (commuters know that this scene looks straight out from the World War Z movie at times), or even eating at the nearby carinderia to save some money. In this day of Instagram worthy pictures the challenge to be authentic is real.

Maybe this is just the over thinker in me writing and typing these words, more or less to serve as a reminder that my petty problems are nowhere near what other people are experiencing outside the world wide web. Something to make me realize that I should not be obsessed in getting the perfect angle but to appreciate every waking moment of this life, even if things aren’t always brought to perfection. That the photos I post, the words that I write, the art that I create, or the review of the books and things I have seen be of use to create a connection to other people. Not out of vain to gain the much coveted attention, but out of the sincerity of the heart to share something worthwhile.

The photo above is my everyday view from the office. It’s not a grand skyline nor a pleasing patch of green grass, yet it did not fail to show me that life is made of this – the good and bad times. There may be struggles when buildings are still under construction, but this is how we lay down our foundations: by going through different processes, and accepting the fact that we are a continuous work in progress. Situations may seem as messy as the flow of thoughts in this blog post, still understanding is gained when the time is right. In the end, everything will finally makes sense.

LEARNING NEVER STOPS

It has been more than a year since I graduated from college and transitioned into the “real” world. At first it was quite overwhelming. After years of being a student, I was faced with a different kind of freedom. There were no course outlines, no subject syllabuses, no class schedules, and no extra hours of homework (do I hear a yay? hahaha). I was faced with a blank sheet and it was up to me to create my own path. This time, it was not just about a college diploma but the whole course of my life.  While some of my batch mates entered the academe again to earn their master’s degree, I jumped into the bandwagon of the corporate world. As I write this, I am currently an employee in my “dream company”, which took two months of applications and interviews ‘til I finally landed the spot.

As I continue on this journey of mine, I have discovered that learning doesn’t stop in the four walls of the classroom. I may not be enrolled in a class but I became I student of life. The world is now my new platform. The lessons have become more practical for daily life as well. Nowadays, it is about computing my budget, learning how to make ends meet, savings and investments, balancing time between family and friends. Whenever time permits, I take part in extra-curricular activities such as Calligraphy and other art related activities. I admit I may have neglected cultivating my passions when I was too focused on finishing my studies.

In every aspect of my life, I have come to see that learning never stops. Each season of our lives brings us different things to learn; it is up to us how we master each. Learning is not confined in a course syllabus or a class schedule. It goes beyond the university. In fact, it is endless as long as we are alive because these lessons are the ones that allow us to grow as persons. As the famous quote goes: Once you stop learning, you stop growing.

* * *

The essay above was submitted as an entry for the Feature Writing 101 workshop contest of The Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf along with Writer’s Block Philippines.

NO MORE SUGARCOATING

There are moments in my life that makes blogging superficial. Parents fighting, family conflict, failures, and my never-ending-shortcomings. In my previous "home" in the world wide web, I often wonder if I'm being real. I often find myself thinking if I'm being true enough to the words that I write. I know that I can't divulge every little detail of my life in this small space, but still I want to be authentic. There's a desire within me to write more honestly than before.

It was one of the reasons why I stopped blogging for a while. I felt like I was posting stuff just for the sake of posting. I didn't care about the content anymore, as long as it looks alive and active. There were bandwagons of entries that looked appealing to a lot of people of which I joined; Who wouldn't love the likes, reblogs, and followers that one can gain? Even if I hate to say this, but for a while I was blinded by the promise of being famous and recognized by the online community. As what I have said countless times before, maybe it's because of my desperation to become a writer that I need a few nods to prove that I can be one. So, I took blogging seriously but forgot the essence of it along the way.

It took a lot of thinking if I should start another blog, or even transfer to another blogging site. I was attached to my Tumblr because I met some bloggers there who eventually became my friends. It was also a record of my college life. But it was a necessary move on my part, because this would push me to express my thoughts seamlessly. To create something original and what truly interests me. To forgo the norm and tell stories, no matter if they came out of pain or happiness.

I don't want to add more "noise" in the online world. I want this blog to be an avenue to share my story to people, even if my life is far from perfect. Hopefully, I'll meet like-minded people as I present the pieces of my life, and maybe meet persons who are going through the same season as me. It's time to go beyond the surface.