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 ]

*

#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 ]

*

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.

*

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.

*

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.

*

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 ]

*

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 ]

in the news

So here’s a pre-holiday surprise gift from The Weekly Sillimanian. I honestly thought the article would come out next year.

Those are big words in that headline. But all I want (for Christmas) is to carry everything I’ve learned as a practicing writer and as a volunteer for Bohol Climate Walkers, Plastic Free Bohol, Kaliwat ni Karyapa, Bohol Arts and Cultural Heritage Council, and Center for Culture and Arts Development - Bohol into my work as a museum researcher in Dumaguete City. That includes, especially, the hope of cultivating more writing in Binisaya from my two hometowns. Considering that the paper’s writers interviewed me on two separate occasions for almost four hours, it’s understandable that some things may have been lost in translation, or that not everything could fit into a single news article.

Still, I am deeply grateful. As I shared with them, everything I do is ultimately for the public. Projects should never be born out of a personality, but out of the needs of a particular community. Happy holidays, friends and family!

[ full article can be read here ]

family time

The tapok-tapoks have begun. Birthday plus holiday plus welcome back gathering with the family and cousins. Savoring the moment. 🌟

[ more photos here ]

surprise cameo

 I’ve received this link to a video four times now, from four different people. Turns out I make a small cameo in a video by lawyer and online personality Regal Oliva about Dumaguete’s declaration as a UNESCO Creative City of Literature.

Really looking forward to the next move, especially how the city government chooses to carry the weight of this title. Perhaps the most concrete step is the creation of an official council—entirely separate from the tourism office—that can genuinely dedicate time and resources to literary programs that shape how a community thinks, listens, and imagines.

happy things

 Weeks earlier, I finally got to open my box of copies of the second edition of Little Things: An Anthology of Poetry, edited by Loh Chin Ee, Angelia Poon, and Esther Vincent. My poem “Poetry as a Lesson in Zoology” is republished here.

This poem first appeared in volume 39 of ANI: The Philippine Literary Yearbook of the Cultural Center of the Philippines back in 2016.

The first edition of Little Things was launched in 2013, and was organized into six sections, namely, Little Things, Growing Up, People Around Us, Going Places, Love and Loss, and On Words. 

The second edition is an expanded version that includes all the original sections and now adds a seventh section—Our Earth. This new section includes poems focused on environmental subjects. My poem found a new home in this particular section, and it’s the second from the last poem in the book. 

I still find it fascinating that my poem is in the same book that contains works by e.e. cummings, Billy Collins, Derek Walcott, Raymond Carver, Philip Larkin, W.H. Auden, Alvin Pang, and Joshua Ip. 

Both editions were printed by Ethos Books, an independent book publisher based in Singapore. 

Little Things is primarily designed as an educational text for lower secondary school Literature students, and it is curated to allow readers and students to draw connections between local and international poems dealing with related universal themes.

Little Things is available in print and e-book format. You can get your copy through this link.

[ more photos here ]

literally literary

Last Saturday, December 13, turned into a very literary kind of weekend. After revising some old poems in the morning, went to the Arts and Design Collective Dumaguete (ADCD) in the afternoon for BazArt 2025—a gathering of local artisans, creatives, and makers. Got to see the fundraiser art exhibit and the soon-to-open office of the Buglas Writers Guild. Turns out, I was one of the first two visitors.

Later that evening, had dinner with friends from the Pride Run Club and met Vince Lopez of Mugna Gallery, along with the gallery’s latest featured artist, Marvin Chito Natural. I had admired his realist works, but unfortunately, only through Facebook. He’s easily like a modern-day Amorsolo.

Chito shared that before fully committing to painting, he used to write balak—poetry in Binisaya—and asked for advice on translation and on finding his way back to writing. He then showed me some of his pieces. All I could really say was he should keep doing both writing and painting. He's really good.

After a hearty Vietnamese dinner and a calamansi liquor sorbet for dessert, spontaneously joined the poetry reading and open mic at The Shed, and read two unpublished poems I’d recently sent via text to friends—“Waterworld” and “Everything is Metaphor (or The Dolphins).” Before heading home, I slipped into a core group meeting for the third edition of the Dumaguete Literary Festival (DumaLitFest) in April 2026. We talked plans—and even dreams—for Dumaguete as the newest Creative City of Literature in UNESCO’s Creative Cities Network. 

Also mentioned to the group that it is also the right moment to lobby for a council or a provincial government arm to preserve, promote, and develop Negros Oriental’s cultural heritage and artistic talents through various programs, workshops, events, and collaborations with local and national partners, and not just for literature. This office should be separate from both city and provincial tourism offices because tourism has a different set of priorities. Just my Christmas wish. 

Thrilling times ahead. Here’s hoping we get the support we need from the people and institutions meant to help carry these projects forward.

[ more photos here ]

happy holidays!

It’s the holiday season at the National Museum! Just my second year-end gathering in the “little museum that could,” which can only mean I’m inching closer to my second year here—and to the move back to Dumaguete City from Bohol. Everything feels fast, and yet, somehow, it also feels like a mountain of things has already happened in between. My genuine holiday wish? A return to six-day operations, breathable schedules, clearer and more thoughtful minds all around. Make it happen, dear cosmos. Do your thang. 🥹

[ more photos here ]

beach bums

 Sunday city-wide power outage? No problem. Go out and hit the waters of the countryside. 🏝️

[ more photos here ]

fellow fellows

As the years go by, it becomes harder to round up and keep in touch with people you’ve found meaning and connection with. You might call it fellowship, especially when you first met as fellows in a writing workshop. That’s why last November 27 felt like such a gift, seeing Yas, my co-fellow from the 15th Iligan National Writers Workshop back in 2008, and Jennie, a fellow from the recent 63rd Silliman University National Writers Workshop, whom I met—and instantly clicked with—when their batch had the Fellows Forum at the museum last July. Both had come all the way from Davao for a quick visit.

I’m a transplant myself, somehow still finding my way here in Dumaguete City, which makes it both touching and amusing when people gravitate toward where you are and speak as if you last saw each other only yesterday. Funny because the last time I met Yas was in 2017. This is his first visit to the City of Gentle People, and now also a UNESCO Creative City of Literature. Yas and Jennie were heading back to their hometowns the next day, so I took them on a quick tour of my favorite spots. It was a beautiful day.

[ more photos here ]

To Tging, our littlest eldest sister with the biggest heart—happiest of birthdays! I wish more people were as strong and compassionate as you. Thank you for taking care of our home’s fur babies. You deserve everything beautiful in this world. I couldn’t come home to Bohol today, but see you soonest!

on asin tibuok

Cheers to the team who made Alburquerque, Bohol’s asin tibuok part of UNESCO’s list of intangible cultural heritage in need of urgent safeguarding. But I hope media would stop calling it “dinosaur egg” in their headlines and start calling it as it is—asin tibuok.

conversations

So the former interviewer got interviewed. Yesterday and today, writers from The Weekly Sillimanian and The Silliman Magazine visited the National Museum of the Philippines to speak with me for a feature they’re preparing. Two long sessions. Party because we covered a lot, partly because I definitely went off-tangent more than once. 

We talked about personal projects, literary work in my home province of Bohol, nuances across Binisaya languages. We even tried to define what “literary culture and heritage” means in Negros Island and how institutions like the museum can help sustain it. Plus many small, unexpected detours in between.

It was fun. I remembered being in their place, writing features for The Weekly Sillimanian in 2006-2007, and then serving as features editor in my last two years of college.

When asked what my recognitions mean—whether the Poet of the Year titles from the Nick Joaquin Literary Awards or the recent Pres. Carlos P. Garcia Award—I said they feel like bonuses. They push me to keep writing, yes, but they were never the point. I’ve been writing since I was five or six, stumbling and growing through the work, and these milestones arrived without my chasing them.

Maybe that’s why they’re gratifying. They all came as surprises. I’m already happy sending drafts of poems through text messages to friends and loved ones, the way I’ve done since 2006. I still believe this: when you love the things that work for you, and when you work for the things you love, everything else falls into place.

We then talked about Dumaguete’s UNESCO Creative City of Literature designation. In my heart and mind, Dumaguete has always been a City of Literature. Long before the title, the art thrived through brave, thoughtful souls who kept the words alive. My hope now is that this recognition widens the circle—welcoming more voices, making literature accessible, and helping people see how prose and poetry matter in everyday life, from the tiangge to government offices, from the streets to the academe. 

Thank you, Danielle Mari Bonior, Zarelle Villanzana, Carla Adeline Via. I hope I got the message across.⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣

[ more photos here ]

the bar's open

We missed the happy hour club.

More photos here.

Another reason to thank the Silliman University National Writers Workshop (SUNWW). Just happy to be part of this growing community. And here are a few factoids about how this thing—the oldest creative writing workshop in Asia—became so intertwined with my life.

🔸 I applied twice. First, as a poetry fellow in 2007. Rejected. The following year, I put together some stories and applied for fiction. That did it. I got into the 47th batch of writing fellows. I was 19.

🔸My co-fellows were Lawrence Anthony Bernabe, Noelle Leslie dela Cruz, Ma. Celeste Fusilero, Rodrigo “Igor” dela Peña, Arlene Jaguit Yandug, Bron Joseph Teves, Marguerite “Margie” Alcazaren de Leon, Dustin Edward Celestino, Joshua “Tokwa” Lim So, Liza Bacay, Ma. Elena Paulma, Anna Carmela Tolentino, and Lamberto Varias Jr.

🔸On Day 1, National Artist for Literature and workshop co-founder Edith Lopez Tiempo herself opened the first panel, discussing Noelle’s poem.

🔸 Our panelists were Ernesto Superal Yee, Bobby Flores Villasis, Myrna Peña Reyes, Cesar Ruiz Aquino, Dr. Rowena Tiempo Torrevillas, Jose “Butch” Dalisay, Butch Macansantos, Dave Genotiva, Susan Lara, Danny Reyes, Anthony Tan, and Lito Zulueta.

🔸 I remember being in awe of everyone—sharp, talented, articulate—while I was just there soaking everything in. But one co-fellow stood out in particular. Back then, the workshop ran for three weeks, each devoted to a genre: poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction. There were 15 fellows, five per genre. Except in 2008, we were only 14. It turned out one fellow had applied to all three genres, and the screening committee found all his manuscripts strong enough to represent each genre for discussion. So he had a slot every single week. His name is Lambert. And then he disappeared from the grid. I still don’t know where he is.

🔸 There were days when we arrived late to KH 1, the room in Katipunan Hall where most sessions were held, and the running joke among panelists was that our nights were long and bacchanalian. To prove we weren’t drunk every night (just “every other night,” as Liza put it), we decided to make a book of new works to give the panelists and organizers on culmination night. Just so we can say we did some new writing during our stay. 

🔸 That book became Sea[sic]: Prose and Poetry by the Fellows of the 47th Silliman University National Writers Workshop. It was launched at Hayahay on Escaño Road during the final night of the workshop. People were so thrilled to receive a copy that they decided right there and then that future batches should also produce a book of new works. What started as our simple thank-you gift is now a workshop requirement. Peace to all future fellows. We didn’t mean to give you an extra task.

🔸 We call our batch the Katsubongs, after one memorable trip from Bacong. I wrote about it for the workshop’s 50th anniversary in 2011 (link here: https://su.edu.ph/137-drugged-and-still-drugged/). 

🔸 We spent a night at Salagdoong Beach in Siquijor. Literally slept in the huts by the shore, waking up to sunlight and sea breeze, practically ignoring the hotel rooms we had rented.

🔸 Seventeen years later, we’re still in touch, jumping from Yahoo Groups to Facebook to Messenger. A little older, maybe wiser, but still here, and I am still in awe of what have transpired. Still thankful. 

Borrowed the image above from the official Facebook page of the SUNWW. You can check out the original post here.

47th ugat conference

One more thing. On the third and last day of the 47th Ugnayang Pang-Aghamtao (UGAT) International Conference, November 14, I attended the panels “Everyday Economies and Lived Precarities: Ethnographies of Survival and Care” and “Bodies, Forests, and Frontiers: Indigenous Ways of Knowing and Governing.” Also joined the lecture by Alberto Gomes of La Trobe University titled “Phoenix Rising from the Ashes: The Promise of Regenerative Anthropology.” And I finally met poet, doctor, and researcher Vincen Gregory Yu. It’s always a quiet thrill to meet in person the people whose work you’ve only encountered on the page.

In the afternoon, joined Tigum, the conference’s field immersion segment in partnership with the National Museum of the Philippines–Bohol and the Bohol Arts and Cultural Heritage (BACH) Council. The activity encouraged delegates to examine Tagbilaran City as a coastal and urban landscape shaped by its community. We walked through the city and learned about the history of the Knights of Columbus Wharf, the Balili Heritage House, the People’s Mansion (formerly the Governor’s Mansion), the Gabaldon building of Dr. Cecilio Putong National High School, and the shophouses along CPG Avenue. Our last stop was Sitio Ubos, an enclave of late Spanish colonial structures just behind St. Joseph the Cathedral. The closing ceremony of the conference’s panels and lectures was held later that afternoon at HNU.

Much has been said about our local and indigenous communities, and how research must move away from extractive tendencies. My own approach remains simple: you must be biased in favor of those who are underrepresented, ignored, or deprived of their rights and voices.

Because what is the point of our conferences, meetings, and publications if communities—made more isolated and vulnerable each day by institutional obsessions with credentials, prestige, and even our silence—continue to suffer and be stripped of their humanity? Who benefits from what?

[ more photos here ]