just a thought

If a working adult's skill and competence are increasingly compromised due to a consistent over-reliance on composing prompts and feeding them to an AI program just to "write" simple texts (social media captions, email correspondences, etc.), just imagine what it could do to a child's developing brain. So please keep your children away from that thing. Or better yet, keep them off a phone until they can think and write on their own. Raise people who can actually work (or even experience life's joys) without an internet. 

first thirteen days

I am on the island for 13 days now. Time flies. If one were to imagine time here as if truly winged for it to take off and soar, then it would be one of the many rangkong birds, the Oriental Pied Hornbills, in Cempedak—beautiful balletic avians with beaks that jut out with so much local pride. Some friends in my country can learn a thing or two about flaunting their natural features, to be honest.

I first came to this island that is named after a fruit, just one of over 2,000 islands in the Riau Archipelago, with only the familiarity of being from another island province in a tropical country.

Any thoughts of trepidation navigating life as a transient here—that means, being a writer-in-residence for four weeks that feels like limning the line of being a host and a guest in seclusion—soon ebbed away like waves pulled back into the sea. The kindness and generosity of the people make you feel at home, feeding you with dishes prepared with the freshest local bounty the island has to offer, as if this were home.

Aside from just writing eight-to-five (I had to treat the whole thing as a regular work schedule, lest I get my tasks derailed by so much beauty around me), I set off blocks of time, twice a week, to connect with the people around me. Even when they say writing is a solitary act, one cannot detach oneself from the essentiality of listening to another person.

I got to join in nature walks, too, with Atoy, Roy, Pian, and Jaslan, winding through nooks and crannies of the island in the past few days. I soon learned these were not just exercises of the cardiovascular kind, or opportunities to learn some of Indonesia's flora and fauna, the culture and traditions within this archipelago, and to get to know more of the island's visitors, but also windows into the matters of a community. 

Despite our differing dialects, Bol-anong Binisaya and Bahasa Indonesia, the similarities in beliefs and practices were expected and easy to point out. It is in this common ground that truly connects us all, and to some extent, that we can work things out for the betterment of this world through awareness of respect for life. It is all evident here, how the natural world coexists peacefully with both man and man-made. 

From Singapore to Sydney, from Brussels to Boston, guests were also generous in sharing what was from their hometowns—the bugs they saw, the trees they used to climb, and the beauty of flowers that left an imprint in their minds. Some even shared their fears about what's going on in this world. These walks and dialogues literally expand the breadth of your knowledge and empathy for one another. 

I already have so much to write about, and I have two more weeks on the island. Obviously, I am taking this opportunity to write poems about this living pocket. I believe in the strength of poetry as a genre capable of being exacting and sweeping in the same breath, to be able to say two things at once, or even more. I am already the fifth writer-in-residence in the Tulisan Nusantara Writer's Residency program, and I am aware of the possible retread of topics made by prior authors, but I am taking it all in stride. My glossary of emotions and observations is growing. 

What this residency means for me is the possibility that more writers from the Philippines, especially from the Visayas, and as a Bisaya myself, will find the space even for a short while to explore the intersections of culture and environment through literature. 

I am excited by what a new place does to the mind's eye, the new ways of seeing that it gradually opens, and what I can carry back to Bohol and Dumaguete. With the many crises happening on this planet right now, stepping outside the comfort of one's own ground makes us better participants in the politics of care. 

If you allow yourself to connect with your surroundings, to tune in deeply to the earth, your ears will take in even the most minute of sounds. One afternoon, as I was working on a poem for the residency's monograph, I heard a crackling behind me. 

Was it the Nicobar pigeon? Another hornbill? Was it the clouded monitor lizard this time? No. It was just a large crisp leaf gently rolling down the side of a sea-smoothened boulder. 

 Day after day, I am thankful to be reminded there is still room for wonder in this life, and that gives me hope.

[ more photos here ]

news from the alma mater

Thank you, my dear alma mater, Silliman University. It has been a tremendous time.

I genuinely thought this would be a mellower year. Since the beginning of 2026, I had deliberately made peace with a certain reality, which is that no matter how good and harmless your intentions are, there will always be people who usurp and twist them. And so, to avoid the headaches, I decided to let things be. Let’s try that.

But the cosmos had other plans. I was pulled in a direction I had not even considered taking. As it turns out, that direction led not to one but two sweet destinations in a short span of time. For that, I am grateful.

Recognition like the Poet of the Year at the Nick Joaquin Literary Awards from the Philippines Graphic and an opportunity like the Tulisan Nusantara Writer’s Residency in Cempedak Island, Indonesia come few and far between—especially for a queer, Bisaya millennial living in the middle of a turbulent country that remains stubbornly resistant to reckoning with generational trauma. I was told I’d be a fool not to celebrate these. They were right.

All of this reminded me of a time when I literally stopped writing for nearly three years—nothing of substance published from 2013 to 2016—because the world just felt terrible, and it was unfortunately full of terrible people. But just like this year’s gifts, there were those who reached out, ushered me toward opportunities, and pulled me back to the craft.

Sometimes, I suppose, good intentions do attract good things from the universe. They don’t always have to pave the way to hell. You don’t have to dim your light.

[ link to Silliman University's Facebook post here and link to Silliman University website's full article here ]

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#SillimanNews: Silliman University (SU) alumnus F. Jordan Carnice, a 2009 graduate of the Bachelor of Arts in English major in Creative Writing program, has marked two major literary milestones: becoming the first three-time Poet of the Year at the Nick Joaquin Literary Awards (NJLA) and being selected for a four-week international writers residency in Indonesia.

Carnice won the 2026 Poet of the Year award for his poetry suite, Three Poems Before 2025, which bested more than 200 entries. The awards ceremony was held on August 27, 2026, at the Luxent Hotel in Quezon City.

The winning suite consists of “Poreuomai,” “You Cannot Change That,” and “2024,” first published in the March 2025 issue of the Philippines Graphic Reader, the monthly literary supplement of the Philippines Graphic. Works published in the Reader automatically qualify for the annual competition.

thank you, buglas writer's guild!

Thank you once again, Buglas Writers Guild. A literary excursion to Indonesia would not have been possible without being marinated in the imagination of the Isle of Buglas.

[ link to the original post here ]

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CONGRATULATIONS! Tagbilaran/Dumaguete poet F. Jordan Carnice has been invited as the fifth resident for the Tulisan Nusantara: The Writer's Residency Program on Cempedak Island in Indonesia. Each year, published writers from across Southeast Asia are invited to spend time on the island, drawing inspiration from the natural world and the stories of the Riau Islands. During their stay, residents explore ideas connected to place, identity, and culture. Congratulations, Jordan! 

37th philippine travel mart

A lot has happened back home, blurring through my periphery, that I completely forgot to mention that my poetry chapbooks Weights & Cushions and How to Make an Accident were among the titles featured by Libraria Books at the Dumaguete City booth for the 37th Philippine Travel Mart at SMX Convention Center, Pasay City, September 4–6, 2026.

This was just one way of showcasing why Dumaguete is the country’s first and only UNESCO Creative City of Literature. Many thanks go to the wonderful people of Libraria Books and the Dumaguete City Tourism Office for the support.

It was over so quickly. Sincerest apologies to friends in Metro Manila who were looking for those copies. Thankfully, you can always message Libraria, and they would be glad to connect you with these and other Filipiniana titles, especially by authors from the Visayas.

[ more photos here ]

farewell, sir resil

The very first time I met National Artist for Literature Resil B. Mojares was on October 19, 2018, at the Bohol Cultural Center, when Tagbilaran City finally hosted the Taboan Philippine Writers Festival, once a regular flagship project of the National Commission for Culture and the Arts. He was the occasion’s keynote speaker and one of that year’s Taboan awardees. After I had presented for the panel on speculative fiction with Joselito delos Reyes and Charles Dominic Sanchez, I approached him and we talked for a while. When he learned I had studied at Silliman, he shared that he was an alumnus of sorts too—he never finished his degree there, but the fond memories of the campus, especially the cafeteria, and of Dumaguete’s seaside life had never left him. I thought that was the end of it.

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The next day, October 20, fellow Taboan panelist and friend Melvin Magsanoc of Benguet and I were rushing to the elevator at MetroCentre Hotel to meet the rest of the delegates (we were heading to the National Museum of the Philippines for a tour) when someone from the corridor called out for us to wait. Sir Resil hurried in. The doors slid shut, the elevator went down, and then a halt. Power outage. We were literally stuck in an elevator with a National Artist. I brought it up and we all laughed. Minutes passed and I suggested we take a photo together in the unmoving elevator to commemorate our unfortunate circumstance. And then the power came back. Sir Resil didn't join the tour that afternoon; he was catching the last trip back to Cebu. I thought that was the last time I’d see him.

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On April 4, 2025, Sir Resil returned to Dumaguete. I am now based in this city, and funny how our paths cross again for another literary activity. He delivered the keynote address for the 2nd Dumaguete Literary Festival on Day 1 while I was going to be part of a panel on poetry and ekphrasis on the last day. His speech presented the case for the city to become a UNESCO Creative City of Literature because, in his words, “for those who live in Dumaguete and the many writers and lovers of literature who have visited and sojourned in this city, Dumaguete has imprinted itself quite memorably as a city of our affections, and imagination's home.” This was before the city officially received the designation on October 31, 2025. He added, “One must see not only the city’s tradition and current status but the award’s potential and prospective value in raising the city’s visibility and promoting further development that will go beyond the literary field to sectors like tourism, education, and the local economy, as well as diffuse outwards to other places in the country. The stakes are high since Dumaguete is the country’s best bet for being a city of literature, and I really think that if Dumaguete does not get this honor, it is unlikely that another Philippine city will.” Later that day, I approached him to get my copy of Enigmatic Objects signed and told him about the Taboan elevator story from seven years ago. We laughed again, instantly bonded by that brief shared shenanigan. That was the last time I saw him. He celebrated his 83rd birthday yesterday, September 4.

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This morning, September 5, he passed away. Rest in peace, Sir Resil.

[ more photos here ] 

tulisan nusantara writer's residency, september 2026

I've kept this for more than a year, and I think I can freely share it now—I was chosen as a writer-in-residence for the Tulisan Nusantara Writer's Residency Program on Cempedak Island.

From Cebu, I flew to Singapore last Saturday, August 29, and on the following day, met the program’s first writer-in-residence, Pamela Ng, and we both traveled to Bintan by ferry, and soon, via speedboat, arrived on an island located about 9 to 12 kilometers off the southeast coast of Bintan in the Riau Archipelago, Indonesia.

This was the reason I had to skip the Nick Joaquin Literary Awards last August 27 in Manila. 

I am the fifth writer-in-residence—and the second from the Philippines, after Alex Bicharra. I will be staying for four weeks here. 

The Tulisan Nusantara program invites published authors from across Southeast Asia, one per quarter over a year, to create literary works for a monograph inspired by local island ecology and culture. At the end of a two-year cycle, the works of all eight writers will be compiled into a single volume.

This is my first writing residency, and it feels equal parts thrilling and nerve-wracking. Never in my entire life did I imagine that a love for nature, culture, and the arts would intersect so beautifully—and be acknowledged and celebrated—on an island that provides a space for sustaining the craft.

I first learned about the residency when Dr. Helen Moore, writer and research associate at the University of Gloucestershire, reached out on May 23 last year. She told me that the residency's artistic director and filmmaker, Ken Kwek, had come across my poems on Ecopoetikon and considered me as a Philippine representative. I was chosen, among countless possible writers from around the world, on the merit of three poems published in the U.K. in 2023.

Email correspondences followed. Because of time constraints in 2025, I had to humbly ask Ken if I could participate the following year instead—and genuinely thought I had missed my chance.

But here I am, on Day 5 of the residency, in an island named after a tropical fruit in the same family as jackfruit and breadfruit, in the company of the most humble and generous people I have encountered anywhere, writing poems in my own villa while the surrounding trill of cicadas continues to mystify, as if I have to retrain my ear just to confirm they are real.

None of this would be possible without the cosmos aligning—Ken Kwek connecting with Dr. Helen Moore, who was also relayed to me by Rina Garcia Chua through another literary project; the previous writers-in-residence Pamela Ng and Alex, who took the time to prepare me for what was coming before I left the Philippines; National Museum of the Philippines (NMP) Director II for Visayas National Museums Atty. Ma. Cecilia U. Tirol and Deputy Director-General for Museums Arvin Villalon, who ardently and wholeheartedly rallied for me; and Director General Jeremy Barns, who heard the rationale and simply responded, "Sounds wonderful!"; and finally, to my family, friends, and loved ones who propped me up and held my faith when I doubted myself and almost didn't pursue this.

You are all bright, glowing spots in a darkening world. 

[ article below; link to Cempedak Island's Facebook post here ]

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We're excited to welcome F. Jordan Carnice to the island tomorrow, as our 5th resident for the Tulisan Nusantara writer's program.

Jordan is a writer, visual artist, and cultural worker from Tagbilaran City, Bohol, currently based in Dumaguete — a UNESCO Creative City of Literature. His poetry engages questions of selfhood, community, and reverence for the natural world, and he was named Poet of the Year at the Nick Joaquin Literary Awards in 2023, 2024, and 2026—a first three-peat win in the award’s history.

If you're on-island during his stay, feel free to stop by and say hello!

just a thought

If we're tired of being asked questions, perhaps it's because we failed to give clear and precise instructions. Just as it is imperative to answer (even to questions we'd rather sweep under the rug), it is equally necessary to spare one another from constant second-guessing. State all intentions and interrogations clearly. We are not psychics.

goodbye, buster

This morning, I received news from home that Buster passed away. He would have turned six on August 6, 2020.

I was in Bohol over the weekend, and just a few hours before heading to the pier to return to Dumaguete, I noticed him lying in his bed, unwell. He was the shy type, but this time he was just suddenly too quiet, too still. Sat next to him and repeated his name, and he would slowly lift his head, answer me with a soft, feeble sound. Long, slow blinks and all. Offered him water, but he only lowered his head toward the bowl and never drank, as if still trying to be the obedient boy he always was. Then, very slowly, he walked away, turned his back to me, and faced the garden, as though telling me to not see him like that.

Before I left Bohol, I asked my sisters to take him to the vet. Arrived in Dumaguete last Tuesday night uneasy and heavy with worry. Kept asking for updates the following day. His vitals did not improve. Today, February 19, he is gone.

Now, who will I sing my Bebe Buster song to? When will I ever hear my mother say, “Bus-ter-teeeer!” with that unmistakable delight whenever you gently wandered into the room? Who will my sister look for as you playfully hid under the dining table? Where will we see those ice-blue galaxies in your eyes again?

Dear Buster, my last image of you is that afternoon before I left—your back turned, weak and in pain. But today, I choose to remember you differently: resting on a pile of leaves in the garden, your favorite, facing the early morning sun, just as I would always find you whenever I came home, with the light catching your fur, turning it the brightest of whites, glowing, as if our days were blessed by your presence.

Buster, we will miss you so much. 💟

[ more photos here ]

fragile things at dib bangkok

Dib, its name drawn from the Thai word for “raw” or “authentic,” grew out of a long-held dream of Petch Osathanugrah, the late father of Chang. A collector, musician, and heir to an energy-drink empire, Osathanugrah spent nearly four decades assembling a collection of more than a thousand works from across the globe, alongside an equally enduring desire to one day build a museum where these pieces could finally breathe in public. Eventually, the Dib International Contemporary Art Museum was realized. 

Among the works we encountered on February 7, one stayed with us long after leaving the gallery. It was “Incubate” by the Indian artist Subodh Gupta. It features a stack of twenty-five oversized eggs made from stainless steel kitchen utensils, beneath five elaborate chandeliers. The materials are unmistakably domestic and humble but are arranged in a way that feels tense and loaded. As one friend puts it, it feels like our ordinary working-class lives are always beneath or at the service of the elite and opulent. 

All of this is housed in The Chapel, a cone-shaped, acoustically engineered space appended to the main structure. From the outside, it looks like a tower of a power plant. But inside, it is a vessel for something even more powerful and profound.

[ more photos here ] 

who watches the watchmen?

I was standing by the roadside when a police car pulled over nearby. What caught my eye was the marking “Donated by: PMSC.” All-new Tamaraw pa ha. I’d always been told that government agencies and officials are discouraged from accepting donations. Out of curiosity, I Googled it.

PMSC turns out to be Philippine Mining Service Corporation, a mining firm that, according to its own website, “pioneered the production of quality dolomite in the Philippines” and became a major supplier to Japan and other parts of Asia.

That carries a lot of weight.

Knowing the country’s long and painful history—where police forces have often been deployed against Indigenous communities defending ancestral lands, and against farmers and residents resisting displacement by mining, logging, agribusiness, and large-scale development—this was unsettling. It blurs lines that should remain clear.

Who watches the watchmen?

round and round at dib bangkok

Last year, on December 20, a renovated 1980s warehouse in Ekkamai, Bangkok opened its doors to the public as the Dib International Contemporary Art Museum, or more commonly known as Dib Bangkok.

On February 7, had the chance to visit this expansive museum. The experience begins even before stepping inside any of the galleries. Scattered across the courtyard is Pars pro Toto (2020), a work by the Polish-German artist Alicja Kwade. She created these eleven natural stone spheres that, depending on where you stand, appear either as oversized marbles or as planets suspended in a solar system. To me, they look like ancient alien debris.

The work forms part of the museum’s inaugural exhibition, "(In)visible Presence,” which invites viewers to reflect on perception and the underlying structures that shape how we experience and interpret reality.

[ more photos here ]

happy birthday, pa!

Travelled back home in Bohol to celebrate a trio of birthday celebrants today, February 15—our dear father and my two pamangkins, Kylie and Hansoy. The kids aren’t home with us this time, but they’re very much present in spirit. 

My wish remains the same, that we stay healthy, inside and out, and that we hold on to the truth that peace of mind is worth far more than all the world’s riches combined. I truly believe in that.

[ more photos here ]

happy valentine's!

The ladies of the house, getting their flowers. Happy Valentine’s Day to the women who hold our homes—and practically our lives—together. Thanks to the pamangkins for the beautiful gift.

[ more photos here ]

this saturday looks beautiful and lovely

 

[ see the original post here ]

louis vuitton visionary journeys, part 2

The third section of the Louis Vuitton Visionary Journeys exhibition in four parts is called Icons. It highlights pieces shaped by other designers. This  seamlessly flows into the fourth and last section Collaborations, which celebrates partnerships with artists like Yayoi Kusama. 

That part, especially, felt serendipitous because just two days earlier I had encountered an original Yayoi Kusama painting at the Museum of Contemporary Art Bangkok. It felt like she was following me around the city! The journey ends with a free souvenir from the museum to take home.

That day, February 6, reminded me all this was an entirely foreign world for me. What felt oddly familiar, though, was the persistence to create, to go against the unimaginative, and how history can turn something as ordinary as a traveler’s bag into one of the world’s most luxurious objects.

[ more photos here ]

coffee, tea, or...

Just the right dose of coffee at Pieces Café & Bed in Song Wat Road, Bangkok, Thailand to power through a long, long day. A welcome bonus that this might be one of the best cups I’ve had so far this year. 

[ more photos here ]

louis vuitton visionary journeys, part 1

Last February 6, after the hubbub at Song Wat Road, my K-pop-fanatic friends happily disappeared into a G Dragon Übermensch merch wonderland and a VR concert. I went to the nearby Louis Vuitton Visionary Journeys instead, an exhibition unfolding in four parts.

Here are its first two parts. It opens with Trunkscape, a tunnel made of 96 classic LV trunks, the very object that started it all. This is followed by the segment Origins, which traces the brand from 1854 to the evolution of its now-familiar monograms, bags, luggage, and couture. On a separate occasion, because LV locks were long marketed as “unpickable,” I learned that the brand once invited the famous magician and escape artist Harry Houdini to break one open. He declined.

No matter how effective that marketing is, I still have zero plans of buying a bag worth half a million pesos. 

[ more photos here ]

long in song wat

Lost, but not really. Tucked near the Chao Phraya River, Song Wat Road feels like a place learning how to live in the present without letting go of nostalgia. The old buildings are still there, worn and dignified, now sharing space with what’s modern and on the rise. Murals, graffiti, and small exhibits appear almost by accident, quietly surprising you as you walk along this historical street.

There is definitely an argument about gentrification here. But if this is one way of nurturing local creativity while keeping centuries of history intact, then this kind of change feels more than welcome, I guess. 

[ more photos here ]

food trip, street-style

Just wandered through Song Wat Road and its web of alleys leading to cafés, galleries, boutique shops, and restaurants tucked into old, weathered houses.

And the food. Let’s talk about the food. Thailand rarely disappoints the palate. Tried the buns and shumai from Michelin-recognized Gu Long Bao, coffee from Goútes, and so much more. And there’s the street food in between, of course. Going home at 75 kilograms is no longer a joke.

[ more photos here ]