I’m finally up and about. After a long break, I figured I’d focus on my art sites here and here, then convert this blog into a public service platform, instead. I’d still drop poems and quotes every now and then, of course.
But since my laptop broke down two days ago, I’m up for the challenge of blogging from my phone. I know it’s like writing under the moonlight, blah and blah. But, hey, what choice do I have?
Have you blogged from your phone? Tell me how it went.
And, finally, we came up with a more compound one, attempting to study, if not defy, the limits of style, structure, and media, thus, departing from the margins while keeping space, as we know it, undefined, so to speak. With the book’s dynamic approach to an age when we are all subject to compartmentalized outlooks and fed with a prepackaged sense of identity, it’s a challenge to insist on finding meaning and value in ubiquity.
Sometimes, while you’re trying to outsmart time behind your work desk, you meet with your thoughts and ask questions you dare not ask your kitties. Then you try to find a way to impart that conversation to any surface you can find. And when you do find it, the universe simply opens up its doors to usher you in.
I lost your grip
in the thunderstorm, and you,
likewise, lost mine
under the dragon’s breath –
a huge firewall stood
between us – a dead end’s curse,
cirrus clouds loomed
from a distance tainting
the sun’s rays, no illuminated path
the rainbow’s bend dared
deny us a destination.
Tagalog translation by a friend
Nawala ko ang iyong kapit
nang bumagyo’t nagrilim, at ikaw,
ganoon din, nabitawhan kita
sa lilim ng dambuhalang hininga –
‘sang ga-bituing pader ang poder
nating sangga – sumpang sadya,
malabalahibong ulap ng kilabot
mula sa di-kalayuan ang lumimlim
sa mga sinag ng araw,
naglaho ang daang matuwid
arko ng balangaw ang tumindig
upang ipagkait sa atin ang tagpuan.
It’s not everyday that I bump into a dear friend online. But what’s more thrilling is that, once I do, I am greeted with such artistic charm and passion. This is what I see in these Baybayin calligraphic impressions intricately penned by alurij_. Dig into it and admire the beauty of a culture embedded in each delicate stroke.
Mini musing: We read ingredients in the same way we read terms and conditions.
I’m sharing here my recent blog entry at Lines of Lila. Nothing much, just something I thought I’d write to critic and contradict myself. And yes, it’s about the self, hence, the title “selfie”. I hope you enjoy reading it.
(An excerpt from A selfie of an artist amid a day job, an e-store, bots, and trolls)
And a blog, too! I cringe at the thought of having to balance between life as I know it and life as I imagined it to be. But there’s barely a thin line between imagination and reality. Oftentimes, you jolt out of your reveries from a dog’s bark to find your actual place in this world. Well, frequently at this time and age, you locate yourself with a little help from Google map.
Selfie with a day job
I am aware that there are artists who keep their “day jobs” as visual artists, which is admirable, hence, as some would say, I’d fall under the category of a Sunday artist. Only problem is, I barely have a concept of days. My week comprised of a Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Yesterday, and Today. While on my “day job”, I’d daydream my way into believing that all the task I do is for the betterhood of art. Henceforth, the betterhood of the whole wide world. I’d weave around this mental cult without disbelief. I’d strive to reach the pinnacle of creativity, as a copywriter a la social media trumpet and a lot more. I’d suck art’s soul to its last breath. But a little empathy would grab me from the neck with a reprimand: “Leave the last breath for tomorrow. The rice is now boiling”.
Balancing the life of an artist and an employee, I’d realize at first that in my case, there’s really not much of a borderline…continue reading.
It’s been a while! But I’m back knocking at your computer screens to share with you some of my latest artworks at Lines of Lila. Featuring Lines of Lila 9 and 19, my own personal favorites aaaand, most importantly, these pieces are close enough to reflecting some of the major turn of events in my ever jumbly sense of muse-dom as of late. I hope you like them.
The heart’s temperaments, at times placid, at times undaunted, ceaselessly palpitate the very essence of life’s recurrences. Lines of Lila No. 9 breathes absolute mortality, infinite demise.
Lines of Lila No. 19 entails a feeling of disorientation toward the self. At the depths of one’s persona dwells obscured disarray side by side with a displaced sense of intimacy.