Neutrality - Day 2: Ugnayan ng Sining

My face betrays how my chest heaves disappointment. Yes. I am upset.

Earlier this morning, I was informed I would be getting an INC grade for my Research Methods class if I fail to pass all three chapters today. Guess what. I haven’t even started revising my Chapter 1, and my pages for my second chapter are just perfect. Perfectly blank. I felt like crying. I was listening to the second speaker for the day, Sir Victor, but I barely heard anything. I wanted to enjoy the experience of being an artist-writer, but school is dragging me to present reality. You could not have your wish, it was saying. At least not yet. I was tearing up as I typed away on my laptop, silently praying for speed in thinking. Praise the Lord, I had finished my revisions and my second chapter. I have decided to pass the third chapter tomorrow morning though, as I do not have much time left. Time is running out, and things are squeezed in forcefully.

My being upset has something to do with not actually having been part of today’s literary experience as my mind had to be somewhere farther. I also did not take part in the actual workshop because, as I have shared in my previous post, I am not an official “participant” but a part of the working committee. How and when will I be able to let them critique on my works for improvement? It’s heartbreaking. I know. As much as I fancy the thought of being behind the scenes, I doubt if my writing skills have become any better. My diary-like entries on this blog are, of course, products of free-writing, so I do not expect these to be fascinating pieces as they are only for personal consumption which specifically do not necessarily require special images to roll over in your thoughts.

I remember. I still have to have my thesis paper printed, so I’ll be leaving you now with something I have made up, despite my not being part of the actual workshop (which was only on critiquing somebody else’s work, anyway). This is me in my neutral state.

to the moon to the trench, the mind swoons

simultaneous with lips that part for sound.

washed are the noises in the room

crumpled are the images that dry up blinds.

anticipating the lights to sleep

i only see it go from the moon to the trench.

Day 1: Ugnayan ng Sining

I am currently resting my bottom on a plastic chair just at the corner of the amphitheater which really isn't an amphitheater. And in a matter of thirty minutes, both my ears and my eyes and basically most of my senses would be temporarily owned by these writers who only came for this seminar-workshop in Creative Writing. It saddens me that I might not be able to be here for the whole experience as I might be running errands in between lectures. Being part of the committee has cons as much as it has advantages. -.- I will be, however, be given the privilege to "entertain" these guests and tour them around Iligan. Which is a pain in the hair fringe, I remember. Where am I supposed to take them? The only decent place to bring guests, I recall, is Ma. Cristina Falls, and I even doubt the water isn't dammed up. Based on my research, they only allow the majestic waters to completely pour down the cliff during weekends. It's only Tuesday.


I still have to get Iligan's famous peanuts for them later, though. I might even deliver it to the hostel the writers are staying. Haha. It could've been a bad thing if not for my favorite teachers/artists calling me "Kathy" today. It's just that I find this little nickname rather affectionate and motivating. I don't know. I feel better having been called with a special nickname by these giants in literature. I couldn't wait to hearing from the rest of the group of giants, too. (squeals)

We're starting in a few. Bye. I'll post an update later, perhaps, if something much more worthy of writing pops up. (wink)


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A LOT of things did pop up that were worthy of posting. Believe it or not, Dr. Ortega instructed me to be the emcee for the afternoon as urgent replacement for Sir Polito (who didn't know he was supposed to be there). So there I was, rambling on spontaneously, hoping the guests would not notice the annoying, shaky feeling.

Despite the nerves though, I have learned a lot from Sir Kristian Cordero, the first speaker. He talked about poetry, mainly on Filipino and on his own tongue, Bicolano. He actually reminds me of Sir Erik Sala, our Comp Sci instructor who had the same long, wavy hair tied into a low ponytail. They coincidentally have the same mannerisms and enthusiasm too, and it had seemed like a friend was lecturing and not a complete stranger, thanks to the way he was. It had been an engaging talk, and funny, too. Let me share to you a few tanagas he had shared during the lecture.


"Nang ako'y nag-aabang
ng tala't bulalakaw
Bigla kang napadaan
at ako'y natamaan"


"Ako'y si Juan, irog
Bayabas kang matayog.
Hihintaying mahinog
hanggang sa 'ki'y mahulog."


"Nag-almusal mag-isa
kaning-lamig, tinapa;
nahulog ang kutsara
ikaw na sana, sinta."


It is true. He said this is what makes poetry special: it connects you to the things of the universe. Nakikibagay tayo sa mundo, he had said. It makes one thing and another entirely different thing joined into oneness, as if one were the other. It is true.

The funny thing here is that every time he flashes a poem such as these, on screen, only one person pops in my head. I do not even know if that dosage of thoughtfulness has made things better for my writing quest. It made the examples more meaningful, so why not? I had even stitched a Sebuano poem (balak) because of the random episodes of my being thoughtful of that one person. I had been planning on posting it on a separate blog post, but I thought, nah, if it fits, it goes right in. So after painful deliberation with my ego and id, I have decided to squeeze it in this post (that's getting even longer).



Sa pagbuka sa mata sa adlaw
Dakpa kining pagtutok kong hagbay rang sinalom sa imong tunguran.
Dakpa kining pahiyom kong pinatam-is  sa gugmang walay apan-apan. 
Dakpa ang pag-dula-dula sa buhok.
Dakpa ang pag-taghoy sa galagubo na dughan.
Dakpa ang maulawong pulong na sinulat sa papel na tinagu-an.
Dakpa kining gakiti-kiti kong kasingkasing
sama sa alibangbang sa bulakan na nagpa-uyon sa hangin.



Makamatikod man ako o wala,
dakpa kining tanan.


Dakpa unya tanan
sa pagbuka sa mata sa adlaw.



I am a modernist when it comes to fiction so I rarely follow conventions. Come on. Literature comes not only from the mind. It's rooted in your heart. And the heart, my friends, is an irrational chunk of muscle tissues. Irrational. Although the rules are important, I believe they should only serve as guides. Poetry is barely solid. There is fluidity in its beauty; it flows like the gushing spring on midsummer.



Going back to how the day went, I had to run a few errands as part of its working committee, unfortunately. I had to run to the department to have Sir Kristian's file printed, be his unofficial guide at the mall (for his document mailing and book-shopping at our measly Booksale, yes), and pick up a few packs of peanuts, candies, and biscuits for the guests. I was also supposed to stay with them for dinner at Sunburst, but I had to refuse. I have just remembered I HAVE to work on my untouched thesis paper. :( I barely even had time to listen to the second speaker of the day who gave a lecture on Writing for Children.

Full day, it had been, I know. And even though my back hurts like crazy, I insisted on uploading this blog post before heading on to my thesis paper. Tomorrow would be an even heavier day, I do not know when to squeeze in my supposed administering of tests to that one student in North I Central School I had been assigned to.


I feel myself being slowly pushed into a black hole; the feeling of disintegration is slowly seeping through my bones. Of course, this has, so far, been the semester where I had the most exposure to being a real Literary freak. My grades, however, seem to disagree with me, I find everything ironic. Boohoo. The exposure I had turns out to be not even academic-related. But what could I do? The subjects I am currently enrolled in are major subjects in Language Teaching. That was what they offered to a senior in the English program. And I love fiction, if you haven't noticed it yet.





This is a tough world. It shoves to your throat the things you barely even need. So if you love writing literary pieces, they teach you everything but Creative Writing. Who invented this kind of educational system? Please remind me to thank that one person when I die. :) Seriously though. It COULD HAVE BEEN fine, had they only tried including teaching what you actually signed up for, and what you're actually going to do in the real world. I appreciate their mental effort of choosing which subjects to include in the curriculum, but no, thanks.


Again. Does it even matter that I care? No. Because changing this system seems to be out of the question. It had always been this way for centuries, and it will always be this way, until the Lord Jesus Christ returns. Even if we refuse to be puppets of civilization, we would still be tied up to it, unless we decide to live in the hinterlands, isolated, and plant vegetables for the rest of our lives.


I could go on ranting about the messed-up society of education freaks (in which I also sadly belong), but I really have to start with my thesis paper, being an education freak. Until the next blog update, my awesome readers. ;)


xoxo, A


P.S.
I have just googled Sir Kristian and GAH! He really is a giant in his field. -_- And to think we shopped for books together a while ago. I do not know which link to share, so I'm sharing all these.

This is a photo of him:

Yes, he's still young.

Some of his works include:

A wiki page on his profile: http://bcl.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kristian_Cordero
A recent news update on him. Spoiler alert: he's working on a film with Cinema One! http://newsinfo.inquirer.net/476687/from-bikol-poetry-to-filmmaking
This is his old blog. Check it out if you know Bicolano: http://santigwar.blogspot.com/
Follow him on Twitter.
Like him on Facebook.

If only I had the time to listen to listen to our second speaker, I could have written about her as much as I had written about Sir Kristian. Maybe, as I get to know them better, a future post would include Mrs. Billantes. :)

Confesión Numero Uno: Status: In a Relationship

Believe it or not, I found this on my legal pad. I believe I had written this ages ago for the blog, but I forgot about it. And because I had been looking for pieces of paper that I could solve Stat problems on, I accidentally found this draft. I actually laughed a lot while reading this as it completely escaped my mind and now reading this feels like reading a stranger’s work. :)

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Is having a serious relationship with someone not physically present possible? Does it defy the rules of romantic relationships, as many relationship-police officers are claiming?

She loved the internet. Facebook was her homepage, and she practically wasted most of her evening hours as a doughnut-butt in front of her laptop. ‘A sacred routine,’ her best friends used to tease her. “She should date Facebook!” But instead of taking it as a hint to slow down, she kept her eyes forward and managed to fare along without even considering stopping. Then she met him. He was tall, his eyes were in an eternal playful squint, and his smile was perf. Not really the normal meeting we know of. It was more like a cyber meeting at Facebook through a group they had apparently joined together in. Surprise, surprise. It started simple, exchanging messages and comments, staring at each other’s photos, chatting until dawn. Eventually though, they found Facebook too small and inconvenient so they decided to resort to text messaging and calling. He was from Manila, she was from a small city in Mindanao, and the closest thing they had gotten to physical meeting was a video chat via Skype, and that rarely even happened. As odd as their situation seemed, they decided to step up in the relationship they were in and called themselves their own boyfriend and girlfriend. They were smitten. They believed there was love in the air wherever they were. They believe this would last, as their eyes were sparkling love. They believed this was true. They believed this was it.

I am not bashing the people who believe to have found love over the wonders of technology, and neither am I claiming people who are against it are narrow-minded. Chill. It. Out.

Personally, I find long-distance relationships tiring, tedious, dangerous, and lacking of assurance. Here are just a few reasons on my list that explain why:

1.You meet a lot of people who you get to admire along the way. That’s when confusion comes in and you fall for the person who’s “already there.” Thus, you leave the other person hanging in suspension and waiting for nothing. This is as terrible as a dead star. (I really hate this and I feel like crying whenever I think about the possibilities, you know.)

2.You get bored of “just” waiting for the time when you’d finally meet. Because of this, you lose interest and you eventually fall out.

3.Medium is important. I learned that when I was just starting in the English Program. Two parties have a much higher chance of getting along better when they speak personally than when they have technology as the bridge to their love. Technology could mess up too. Sometimes it even masks our true emotions. Lies are easily made up; feelings could be faked. Reality is lost in machines and technology.

4.Things are ambiguous in this type of relationship. Things are unclear. You begin to doubt if you truly are meant to meet him/her, or if you ever are. That is the point you get paranoid.

Despite listing down the cons of being in a long-distance relationship that I had managed to come up with, I had also realized that there is still one tiny upside to this after all:

Along the course of waiting (if you truly learn to patiently wait and place it in the Lord’s hand), you’d follow your priorities, and you’d fare better in these priorities. And of course, you’d realize that everything – the wait and all – is definitely worth it.

I tried to weigh things out earlier and was not surprised that the cons were much longer on paper than I had thought. However, I believe the upside outweighed the downside, somehow. This relationship is actually safer than I had expected.

(Alright, time out! I have no idea what I was thinking when I was writing this. I do not favor long distance relationships just because I am the type of person who, who, who, misses easily. And I don’t know. Maybe physical presence is the strongest assurance a human could give to me when it comes to this. Some people could handle this, but I don’t think I’m that brave to get into something like this. Somebody told me once it’s a way of testing faithfulness, and that sooner or later, I’d experience it too. Imagine my horrified face while convincing her it would not happen to me. Ever. Haha. Sometimes, I could be a kid. But hey. Being far from your partner is not biblical. How could the wife be her husband’s “helper” through chat or calls? Just say I love you and that’s it? Well, it’s not prohibited either, but then again, some people could handle this for a given period of time, but not everybody can. Ah, what am I saying, I’m interrupting my own post! Continue, please.)

Having said all these, I assume my thoughts on this matter are made clear. Yes, I am pro-long distance relationships, and actually, I even am in one right now (Yes, you read that right. Sorry I was not able to tell you.) Could you actually believe that? I tend to shrug off the remarks I get when my friends at school badger me with questions as to why I decided to go for a fish at the far ocean, over the swimming fishes that are swimming right in my very own fish pond. But what could I do?

Destiny. I do believe in that. It is a belief I had held on for so long that I do not ever wish of letting go.

His name is…

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I am terribly sorry. When I encoded this, I stopped half-way through. And now that I have the time to continue encoding this, I LOST the draft. Trust me when I say my papers have legs. -___-

This is too long to let go, so I might as well continue this post. I do remember the gist though, thus I shall go on.

Yes, I am in a long distance relationship.

He’s in the future.

Yes. I KNOW how cheesy this sounds, but HELLO? I wrote this a long time ago, and I was barely an adult. And coming to think of it, I actually am still in one. This is the kind of long distance relationship that I approve of, apparently. I’m not thinking about this thing a lot these days, I assure you. But because I found this draft, immediately pronounced treasure, and didn’t want to waste hand-written ideas that actually sounded pretty good (at least for me), I might as well put this thing up on my blog. After all, I haven’t posted anything in ages.

Remember the guy from Manila? No, it wasn’t me he met. It was a friend. And you know what happened over the course of their relationship? They broke up. Apparently, the guy was messing around while the girl over here was investing time and money to make them actually happen virtually. (I wrote this draft while they were still on; now I know why I was only allowed to continue this now. It wouldn’t be until now that I would be able to grasp this idea completely.)

My mind is in a post-frenzied state right now, so pardon me for unorganized thoughts mashed up in a single blog post. Believe me, I am not drunk. I just had been in a terribly stressful week (story would follow in the succeeding posts, maybe). Thus, I have to do away with the conclusion portion and leave it to you, readers.

What do you think?