bye waves

On the second day of the new year, I did the weirdest thing in my entire life. After rounding up my grocery items, I chanced upon a barbershop on my way out of the supermarket, and maybe due to the shaking of the cosmos, decided to get a trim. I was perfectly contented with my shoulder-length wavy locks, except for those stubborn strands that stick out in opposing angles. In fact, I am in the spectrums’ opposite end of the idea of getting or donning something new after 365 days, but I entered the shop anyway. Now sitting on a chair that I hadn’t sat on for a long time, I told the barber flatly: “Ikaw na ang ang bahala” (It’s up to you).

Surprisingly—and luckily—I was happy with the results. I have to use less shampoo this time (And by the way, if you're curious, it all looks like that thumbnail photo to your right, only shorter).

wind

11th iyas creative writing workshop call for submission of application

2010 philippines free press literary awards winners

It was not surprising at all. This year’s Philippines Free Press Literary Awards name Noelle Leslie Dela Cruz and Mo Francisco as first prize winner for poetry (“Discourse”) and second prize winner for short fiction (“Jimmie”), respectively.

(Les)

As for the other winners, Ma’am Marjorie Evasco won second prize for the poem “It Is Time to Come Home,” while nobody got the third slot. For fiction, the winners were Eliza Victoria for “Reunion” for first prize and Daryll Delgado for “In Remission” for third prize. To know more of the happenings of the awarding ceremony, click here.

(Me and Mo)

Now they are thousands of bucks richer. I know, I can’t ask “Magpainom naman kayo diyan” because they already had, and unfortunately I was not there. Anyway, I was just happy for the two of them. I’ve read their pieces in the Dumaguete workshop a few years ago and I can only say they deserve this.

Write on.

new

this way to disaster

By F. Jordan Carnice

The Weekly Sillimanian

November 17, 2010

(In light of a university’s approval of allowing a particular college to remove literature classes from its curriculum this semester).

Let’s get this straight and allow me to ask this question: where does literature stand today? That’s easy. It is on the library shelves, on the teacher’s desk, in the bottom of a stack of textbooks, at the end of our priorities. Literature, or the arts in general, has always been shrugged off by Filipinos it is expected that no matter how hard it makes its presence felt the more it becomes obscure. There is a wealth of material but sadly this is countered with a dearth of interest.

Someone I know says that literature loses its magic when it is imposed. True, force feeding is even bad for cows, but pushing it at the sides as if the littlest bit of relevance is stripped off it is another story. I guess this is the very reason why literature is always deemed elitist, alien, a mad professor’s tool for torturing students.

We make it look like hell.

I respect the fact that everyone knows what suits for him or her, freedom of choice for the goodness of mankind, like not eating too much candy to prevent our teeth from having cavities. But literature is not candy. It is food (as history is to pochero and physical education is to sinigang). And we just cannot turn our backs and deny food. Why? Because of a lot of things, and in my humble ways of advocating its significance for days on end, I could sum them up in four reasons:

1) Knowledge. This does not only cover the kind of knowledge gained from surprise quizzes and field trips but also that distinct awakening or realization that transcends the borders of the academe when reading a novel or a poem. It is called insight. Through this we pick up life lessons that could be far more important than what we have learned in a classroom. We know it too well, knowledge is power, but what use is power if we don’t know what to do with it. Literature sheds light on “how”.

2) Communication. Whether it is in writing or in speech, literature grants anyone of any race of any age to communicate efficiently. That is why it is obvious to say that, aside from being a universal recorder, literature brings eloquence, and eloquence brings permanence. To stress its necessity in this age of tweeting and defriending, it is curious only a handful knows what eloquence is. For a third world country whose people behave like Uncle Sam’s spoiled nephews and nieces, that is one awful portrait.

3) Imagination. There is nothing more interesting, more powerful, richer, and even sexier than a fertile mind. With the right materials, literature makes for well-rounded individuals. Literature may not get us the perfect boyfriend or the biggest paycheck, but an uninspired ice-breaker or boring project proposal won’t do either. Confidence is not enough. Imagination is a precursor to creation and possibilities, and without it life would be as dull as a blank sheet of paper.

4) Lastly, there’s Balance. That is what literature and the rest of the humanities are for. The very essence of literature does not only lie on the archiving of humanity’s development (or all of the above) but also in the making of its needed equilibrium to attain life that is both reasonable and bearable.

Try getting into the mind of a potter. He has the tools, knows the kind of clay, the exact amount of water, and just the right heat of his oven, but there’s one important thing he must never forget: his guts or feeling in order to craft the perfect shape of a jar. That feeling is literature, springs from literature.

We need concrete judgment and liquid insight to internalize what is holistic. If one is removed from this mutual relationship, a day will signal the coming of disaster. Harmony would all be gone.

We are not feeling the coming of disaster yet, not even a tremble in the air, but if nothing virtuous is done about this, it won’t be surprising that we find ourselves in the pages of history soon.

Unless, of course, a book is still existent at that time.

when celebs sacrifice art for trash

It turns out my little flash commentary on a TV show is happy to be in the pages of Philippine Daily Inquirer last Saturday (November 20, 2010).

alyza, read this

“Writing is a genuinely laborious and abstract process. When it is fun, the pleasure is wholly different from the pleasure of drawing. With drawing, I am acutely aware of creating something on a sheet of paper. It is a sensual act, which you cannot say about the act of writing. In fact, I often turn to drawing to recover from the writing.”

- Gunter Grass, 1991

first meeting

The first time the two boys have met.

(David Heyman, 2000)

just curious

What happened to him? And what's his name again?

paper monster press: isang timbulang maasahan para masagip ang nalulunod na sining ng pagtula?

It is a small step but nonetheless gratifying. My poem “To End a Wall” (written a long time ago) is published in the first issue of Paper Monster Press, entitled Pyrotechnic Poetry, which is edited by De La Salle instructor Ainne Frances de la Cruz.

I need this little push to continue writing verses. I’ve been too caught up with my fiction writing these days I rarely produce a sensible piece of heightened language, thus breaking my “one short story and one poem” per month promise. There’s no use lamenting on this, after all, I should have learned by now that promises are meant to be broken.

Anyway, here’s a review of the said publication. Listed below are my fellow contributors:

“Paper Cup” by Ryan Gabby Taborada
“For the storyteller” by Lawrence Bañas
“Frankjo” by Pache Paredes
“To End a Wall” by F. Jordan Carnice
“Lotus Eaters” by Noah Sonnenchein
“A Minute After Six” by J. Luna
“Cleaning Up” by Xenia Chloe-Villanueva
“Transit” by Karlo Jose R. Pineda
“Pre-Wendy” by Raydon L. Reyes
“at Tryst” by Eduardo Uy Jr.
“Gulugod” by Mykel Andrada
“Ang Lalaking Ipinaglihi sa Titi ng Kapwa niya Lalaki” by Noel de Leon
“Paghanap sa Bulag na Alitaptap” by Raul Funilas
“Sahid” by Louise Vincent B. Amante
“Paggalang sa Banal” by Dr. Jondy M. Arpilleda
“PNR” by James Tana
“Pito-pito” by Gigi Constantino
“Harlot [Ang Haliparot]” by Michael C. Alegre
“Sa Damuhan” by Mark Erron San Mateo

generic

There are plenty of things to compare in this world: this bag looks like that bag, her dress is a twin of your dress, or this notebook is a twin of a thousand notebooks.

But being a spitting image of another person? I am not sure if that’s a comforting thought.

I’ve received the comments “May kamukha ka!” and “Someone in here looks like you!” for the nth time (probably, 1,234,567,900th) as if this is a tag permanently clipped on my back. It is not entirely grating, like Justin Beiber’s voice, but I just hope people will keep the thought to themselves because I have my very own mental picture of what I look like, and if the so-called similarity they are talking about defies the illustration in my head, maybe the apocalypse is not that far from happening.

But if the resemblance is strikingly true, well then, I might settle in the shelves of a drugstore soon. It seems that I look exceptionally generic.

12th ateneo video open

Sillimanians should participate in this.

*

The Ateneo Video Open, now on its twelfth year, is an annual nationwide film competition open to collegiate-level filmmakers. It is organized by the Loyola Film Circle, the Ateneo de Manila University’s premiere film organization.

If you are a filmmaker and are interested, please visit this site for more information.

The Categories are:

a. Experimental

No more than 15 min in length

b. Music Video

For any original song by a local artist/band (with proper permission) of no more than 7 minutes

c. Documentary

Of any subject, no more than 25 min. in length

d. Short Narrative

Of any subject or theme (adaptations with proper permission is also accepted), no more than 25 min. in length.

we'll meet soon

The New York Times has revealed that “One Hundred Years of Solitude” and “Love in the Time of Cholera” writer Gabriel Garcia Marquez is currently finishing his new novel entitled “We’ll Meet in August.” I am feverish about this since his last work “Memories of My Melancholy Whores” in 2004 (his autobiography not included) is less astounding than I have expected. It was a lightweight compared to the grand heavyweight champs he previously produced. Even his short stories were better than that! Still, it was a Marquez, and its engaging and gorgeous lyricism made me forget a lot of the story’s fringes or lack of it. So, to Marquez who is already 83 years old, he better be releasing a tour de force that would lift us off the ground like Remedios the beauty (minus the bed sheets, of course).

unsafe

Last month, several members of APO were also tagged in the death of University of Makati student EJ Karl Intia, reportedly a neophyte who succumbed to severe body injuries during the fraternity’s hazing rites in Makati City.

Five APO members were arrested for Intia’s death, but they were later freed after the city prosecutor decided to drop the charges against them.

Interestingly, Makati City police chief Senior Superintendent Froilan Bonifacio is a member of APO. (Philippine Daily Inquirer, October 2010).

*

It is clear what brotherhood means to these people. It is unmistakable, with their hunger for attention and their well-greased machinery to bend and twist the rules that are laid in front of them, they do what they want to do for the sake of a mysterious union that is culled from pain. It is their baptism of fire after all.

After the bar exam explosion and the news above, what’s next?

observations

Two weeks ago, with the television turned on the usual primetime news channel circling on the latest crime reports and casualties of typhoon Juan (International Name: Megi), my seven-year-old nephew sat on the couch, eyes looking straight at the screen, and suddenly asked in a loud voice: “Why is there plenty of bad news on the news?” It sounded funny but the question’s thought caught me unprepared for an answer.

*

I went to Subic last weekend, the detoxification deemed extremely necessary. It was late in the afternoon when I arrived in this house to hear a lot of squawking noise in the backyard. I checked it, and to my surprise, there was a flock of green-yellow parrots crowding the branches of a duhat tree (Java Plum). I, of course, couldn’t believe it, but I knew what I saw. They were the same birds that I had once owned, just one though, teaching it how to whistle and say hello. I approached the tree, but with the littlest breaking sound of a twig under my heels, the birds flew, and I wished they stayed to greet my presence a sweet hello. Well, I thought, they are better out there in the sky than in a cage.


*

I was back in the office after a long weekend (but it was not long enough). I could not wait for lunch break so I went out earlier than the rest. I entered the lift with our purchasing department’s supplier at the same time, and noticing me, he cleared his throat and said, “Has someone already mistaken you as Arnel Pineda?” I responded, “You’re the first one!” I was not sure if that was a compliment but I still gave him a smile. It must be the hair. Finally, after countless occasions of being called “ma’am” in malls and restaurants and other public places, I can at least reassure my physiology as being the lead singer of Journey.

talk

History thrives in communication. After all, if not for oral tradition—passing words of information from one generation to the next, finding its way to the pages of leather-bound books until finally settling in the monitors of the digital age—we would not have the littlest bit of knowledge of the past today. Since we adequately have all the means to communicate by now, what matters most is how to improve it, adapt to the dynamics. When everything is as defined as cut crystal, the next obvious step is to communicate. Write, speak. History will move on its own course.

stubbles and all

They have grown. Sniff. I remember smelling the pages of the first book in the series back in elementary, grade four to be exact, proud to get hold of it after seeing its cover in the pages of a newspaper and telling my sister to purchase one for me as a birthday present. Though people always say (including me) the interpretation in our heads is way better than any director’s vision, the Harry Potter movies are always a marvel to look at (especially Alfonso Cuaron’s ingenious take). And now that the movie franchise is going to end soon, we can only sigh and wait for anticipation since no efforts of dividing the final book, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, in two-part movies could deny the fact that the characters have grown up and so as the readers. It is time to move on.

shameless plug: the ball's inflated

People encouraged keeping the ball rolling. But someone interjected I have to make sure the ball is inflated first so rolling it won’t be a problem. I took it as a friendly reminder. Thankfully, I did.

“Loneness,” my latest short fiction—which was sadly refused by the editors of an upcoming anthology because, well, the project did not push through—has found its way to the pages instead of Philippines Graphic this week.

Looking back, I have now published two short stories in this reputable magazine in two consecutive months, and further back, another short story and a poem in Philippines Free Press. Indeed, the pains of writing are the least of your concerns when you see your works in print. For now, nothing could be more escalating than this thought.

Though sometimes I cannot deny the sad and grim postulations popping inside my head (like “Did they run out of contributors?”), I just take the initiative of creating better works if those aren’t good enough to counter my doubts. What matters is that I’m in it, and though little triumphs such as this makes my heart swell with pride, I will remain humble and thankful for the great cosmos’s shower of blessings.

And of course, I have to remember to keep the ball inflated.

nuts until 60

When it comes to comic strips, nothing translates melancholic human nuances into child humor like “Peanuts” by Charles Schulz. Now that the cartoon is in its 60th anniversary, I will purchase all those lovely coffee table books commemorating its staying power if my wallet permits me to. That’s how I love the gang of Charlie Brown, Snoopy, Lucy, Linus, Schroeder, Pig-Pen, etc. Good grief!

Way before I poured most of my time in literature, I drew and sketched regularly in the hopes of becoming a Schulz someday. Peanuts and the world-famous beagle were my objects of fascination then, the comic strip’s wit my holy grail of all speech and thought balloons (until I discovered Marvel). I may not be as passionate to paneled storytelling as before but my adoration for it, especially Schulz’s masterpiece, remains until now.

Sample comic strip taken from this link.