The Flight of Leaves

This morning I had a chance to witness an artpiece in the making. Adi Mari finished her piece on birds and finally showed it to me all the way from London.

Art has always been something captivating for me because it allows me to be drawn inside and outside of myself. The focus of art becomes holistic instead of capturing just one aspect about life. Art makes life three dimensional because it forces you to look at reason (the purpose of pursuing the craft) and passion (the desire to pursue the craft). Art becomes the fruit of a journey's essence manifested in tactile form.

This is why I associate art so much with the journey of faith because it takes a lot of faith to keep up with an artistic journey and it takes a lot of artistic appreciation for life to keep up with the challenges of faith.

I have only started to really establish my journey on looking at how parallel faith and art can be. And today this journey is seen in the artpiece that my friend Adi Mari has made.

I'd call this piece The Flight of Leaves. She has used a variety of media to execute the concept of this artwork. It was quite a painstaking process of gluing in real leaves together to cover cardboard patterns of shapes forming a clutter of leaves at the base. I can imagine the gentle gesture of tracing a curve shaped stencil to draw the birds and capture the wings in flight.

She was talking to me about her fascination for birds ever since she moved to London and I surmise that it is because of how her life has always been. Filled with periods of traveling moving from one country to the next to settle into new homes and leave old ones. It's a melancholy journey of one who's barely anchored to maturity. But it is also quite a courageous journey for someone as young as her because it brings her closer to live a life reliant on faith.

I am caught by the flight of the birds which seems to be moving towards me. I can feel the wind from underneath sweeping the leaves up to the air as the wings swoop down to dip and soar up again. I am enchanted by the colored leaves and Adi Mari's hands that fashioned them intricately. The lines of the work are all moving. Much like Adi Mari's spirit. Moving to find the peacefulness of home in changing skies and the shifting of clouds.

It is true. That art is indeed a self-portrait and this piece can perhaps be her signature work because it literally expresses the story in her soul. One of hope despite the constancy of change and the hurried pace towards acceptance. One of faith despite the hurdles that needs to be crossed amidst the change hues and tones the color her life. One of authenticity despite the realities that challenge the meaning of her truth.

the Flight of Leaves

The Cubao X Discovery

The very much awaited trip to Cubao X finally happened last Saturday. I left Alabang around 9am to be sure that I will not tangle myself with a lot of road stress along EDSA. I didn't really know if the area would be open that early but I also took it as an opportunity to explore Cubao again after not having been there in the longest time.

Cubao has a lot of childhood memories for me. Malls like Robinsons Galleria or SM MegaMall weren't open yet when I lived in Pasig. My parents would take me and my sister to Ali Mall during weekends and our favorite fastfood was McDonald's. I remember being so eager to get the newest Happy Meal Toy from pencil cases to lunch boxes and anything that had Ronald McDonald on it.

Things didn't change that much. It was still quite traffic in P. Tuazon street. The presence of Gateway Mall and Shopwise were new and I sort of missed the old Fiesta Carnival that stood in the middle of the shopping arena.

I finally found Cubao X and was happy that there was a parking lot almost right next to it. The old ruins of the Marikina Shoe Expo were very much still standing. Suddenly, I recognized the place from a distant memory. I remember buying old school shoes there because they were cheaper than those sold in the mall.

The day was cloudy and the breeze was a little cold. It was perfect for walking around the city. As expected, Cubao X was empty except for a few shops that were open early. I didn't get the names of all of the shops but I was especially drawn to the antique shop that was located at the center of the corner. Filled with luscious green plants from the terrace, I was immediately lured inside to peek at the wonderful treasures that other people left behind. I was quite thrilled to see a lot of books and old trinkets. I was looking forward to see Remy's Thrift Shop but unfortunately it wasn't open yet when I got there. So I walked around Cubao for the meantime and found myself sitting down on the sidewalk outside the Ali Mall entrance to just take everything in.

I went back after lunch and was happy to see most of the shops open. I was able to purchase great finds. A bag of clothes purchased in the "ukay-kay" place: 5 pieces of clothing (2 dressy tank tops, a bolero, a blouse and a long gypsy skirt) all for 500 pesos. A bag of second hand books: Flights of Love by Bernard Schlink, The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho and The Waves by Virginia Woolf all for 450 pesos. And lastly, my most interesting find for the day: a porcelain doll that was packaged in a vintage travel box (if there was a vintage version of kaboodles that would by my closest description) for 480 pesos.

There's one simple thing I realized in this short trip. Discoveries happen because you make an active choice to seek and not just wait stagnantly for an opportune time. I realized how much of my living in Manila has been so unexplored and have silently made a resolution to change my mindset about willingly exploring places that resonate with my own inner journey of authenticity.  In so doing, I am awakened to the truth of who I am.  A Filipino Woman. Rediscovering the joy of finding out what it means to realize how good it is to find home. Revived with renewed passion for the Filipino Nation.

Cubao X Discovery

I have been aching to go to Cubao X for the longest time. But a Manila Southerner like me finds it pretty impossible to squeeze in the time to drive all the way. The ache to breathe in a new place where art lives is so strong that I am really decided to visit the area this weekend. Even if I'm not the most patient driver in the world. I want to especially visit this shop that I read about in ProjectManila.com because there is something about the intricately arranged vintage collection of all sorts of things that sparks up stories in my mind. I want to touch them and look at them up close and wonder about the people who owned them. What they were like. What they constantly thought about. Why they had to give these things away.

I'm thinking that maybe this is why I experienced that little mishap of leaving my phone at home today. To drive all the way there after just being in the office for less than 30 minutes would normally be a frustrating decision but something inside me didn't go all too frantic. The sky was cloudy with a pale tinge of orange. The expanse of Skyway was empty and it was indeed a peaceful drive.

The more the hunger grows for art to arise. The more the authentic self longs to be released. Released through resonating with old things that tells old stories. Released through resonating with photographs painted with light and thought showing a far greater universe than what we can see.

In Need of Creative Resuscitation

I've been thinking that I want to be more focused about my move towards growing in the writing craft. So I've been trying to search for creative prompts that can initiate my journey to writing more creatively. I think the problem is that I haven't really been sifting my mind so much that's why everything simply gets stuck. I also have not been reading a lot and my momentum in digesting words has gone to slow. My literary sense has faded.

But I am optimistic. I've been seeing a lot of people venturing towards their dreams lately and the first thing they did was to aim high and then follow a process. For athletes, it's a training schedule. For artists (or writers like me), it's a creative routine. Most of the things I've read say that the most important tip is:

To read a lot.

Last week, I managed to finish reading a book in one day. I used to devour two books in one day when I was in college but that ability has been stunted ever since I attended business school where my taste for literature has gone bland. Filled up with stacks of case studies and business reports has numbed my creative writing mind and it desperately needs some resuscitation.

The next important tip is:

To write a lot.

They say that it doesn't matter what you write, just write. Some say that it's important to plan what you want to write and others say just write and then edit later. I don't know which advise is better but I find myself unable to "just write" right now. I suppose the cluttered thoughts have a lot to do with the bottleneck.

The third important tip is:

Find people who believes with you.

I suppose the birth of any dream is fueled by the strong desire and belief of the dreamer and those who stand by the dreamer. It makes a lot of impact when your environment allows you to test all sorts of possibilities without restraining your creative potential and the limiting the journey of creative exploration. Those who find it difficult to begin taking the first step towards their dream, I find, are those people who have never been exposed to an encouraging environment.

Negativity is easy to come by especially in a world that wreaks with turmoil, crisis, poverty, unemployment, heartache, death (this is just to name a few of those anxieties we constantly run through our heads on a daily basis). For some reason it has become human nature to find it easier to point out a mistake, a wrong deed, a wrong action than to point out a good deed, best effort, a trial overcome, a change made. It feels like an itch. Or worse, a pimple aching to be popped. You just can't stand it. You have to scratch it. You have to pop it.

Where do we get that urge? I can't speak for everybody but I suppose for myself, it's because I am unable to empathize nor see beyond the inner struggle of one who goes an experience or simply said, I don't believe the inherent goodness in a person. But that was past. As I move towards authenticity, I am growing to realize that I too limit myself if I limit others.

The poison to any possibility is a negative word. Somewhere in Proverbs it says, "Death and life is the power of the tongue." It is easy to stick this on a car bumper or to post it on your office wall or make it a desktop screensaver. But it is very hard to live out. It becomes hard to live out because we are more quick to call others' attention than ours.

A chat with a friend recently reminded me of this bible saying that goes, "One who has been forgiven much, loves much." How can you love much if you don't know how much you've been forgiven? How will you know how much you have been forgiven if you think you don't NEED to be forgiven? :-)

I think I've strayed far from my point of enumerating the important steps of embarking on the creative writing craft but I think it is important that before any journey begins, the heart, the mind and the soul is set in the right place. For you will not know what kind of challenges you will face but if you got your insides intact, your inner mettle will let you rise above anything that tries to run by you.

So here I am trying to move with the flow again and believing that even if there are seasons in where my creativity runs dry, there are definitely seasons where the spring will come again.

The Red Boots Journey

the red boots journey

This picture got 13 views and 7 comments in Flickr. My highest rating to date since I resurrected my Flickr back up about 2 weeks ago. That Flickr account has been there for 5 years or so but I never really ended up using it because of rising social networks like Multiply and Facebook. Somehow, I've forgotten what it felt like to be anonymous to the internet public. Somehow, I've forgotten what it's like to appreciate the work of a stranger and to look forward to exciting discoveries from random people. Somehow, I've also forgotten how affirming it felt like to get feedback from people I don't know.

This photo was taken in ParadiZoo Cavite. It's an hour and a half drive from Alabang. More pictures that I've taken are in my Flickr Album. But I am specifically fond of this picture because of how it was a moment that was just there, waiting to be captured.

I like the whitewashed paint on the steps. These are steps to a small house located in the Zoo. The boots where just there as if somebody left them. I like how the boots stand out against the whitewash paint. It's a charming sight and it reminds me of cozy walks on a quiet afternoon.

A Different Eye

I started to take a liking to capturing moments on film when I was college. Back then I used my Dad's Canon. I enjoyed taking black and whites because to me they spoke of truth. The monochrome showed no discrimination for what stood out or what didn't. It just showed what was plainly there. A moment. A face. An object. From there I'd find myself sitting still and watching what I had just immortalized. I'm not expert behind the lenses and I suppose it might as well be just so because in my lack of technique I am able to appreciate and find some meaning in the blurs and the out of focus results of my too enthusiastic seeking heart.

I started to find solace in taking pictures again when I entered business school. The cold hearted days of thorough case studies and discussions numbed my brain to what it used to know as life. The spirit of creativity stunted from flight. This was what led me to again find meaning in the gray concrete walls of the academic business scene Armed only with a Nokia 6600 I started to look at things around me with a different eye. Orange highlighters that strike through 15 page analysis of cases strike through bible verses and a bestselling novel the same. These moments of realization are captured on a 400 by 300 pixel photograph that I usually edit in Adobe Photoshop to add a caption or two describing what I saw in that moment.































These were one of the first few photographs I took. Advancing from a camera phone to a Canon Powershot that took 1 mega pixel of pictures in a 128MB Compact Flash card I got for 10K together with a camera printer that printed wallet sized versions of the the snaps I took. It became almost a daily habit to take pictures like these and share them with family and friends. The habit suddenly became known as subject heading of all my emails I shared these photos through. Picture Poetry as I called it.

These pictures adorn my room printed on photo paper as a gift from my sister on my 27th birthday. They remind me of how I used to see the world from mundane experiences that arouse a spark of hope lying dormant especially in times of intellectual boredom, painful transitions, and fearful uncertainty.

My passion for photography never went to the level of craftmanship as I only lingered in the art to find an additional means to express myself especially when I cannot find the words to capture my thoughts. But later on I convinced my Dad to get a Canon 350DSLR after I graduated from business school so that we can take better photos on our trip to Europe in 2005. Back then dSLRs cost a FORTUNE. I got mine for 49K without a camera bag and only a 1GB Compact Flashcard to boot.

When I saw the big expanse of the world, I saw how many more moments can be captured and the thrill of it all was keeping them for posterity. I munched through moments shutter happy especially during our tour in Europe.



























I thought I reached my height in my journey with photography. The pace of moments died down to a quiet conundrum of introspection. I would occasionally still take pictures of moments, things and people that would move me but the delight in the art faded because it became complicated to journey by myself in a hobby that was experienced by only me.

The past five months have been an archeological dig of sorts that resurrected my inner flame for the artforms that I find myself comfortable in. Music has taken a bit of a back seat these days as I simply explore those that I can carry around and live with in the hustle and bustle of my imbalanced lifestyle. Writing. Reading. Photography. Now become companions in a process that raises up a buried self and calls forth a hibernating passion to see and recreate life filled with beauty and purpose.

It has become a new found joy to recreate again especially with Adi and Javi flying with me. We bought identical Nikon D40s yesterday at Hidalgo (and an additional one for my sister who's a closet art enthusiast) and eagerly captured shots away when we got home in the afternoon. The ease of the D40 matched my impatience for technical detail. The color it produced matched my desire to see the vibrance and life of memories that I want immortalized for good.

So yes, perhaps I am seeing the world with a different eye. One click of the shutter at a time.