writing as spectacle
Posted at 05:57 PM

i always felt one thing that drew me to writing was the fact that it wasn't a group event, not really a team sport - more of the writer and a whole lot of coaches, trainers, consultants... but nobody really you could pass the ball to if you wanted to score a basket.

(ok, that analogy is beaten up)

and while i do look forward to my workshops to help me improve, i found one thing a bit disturbing. some workshops have become public events.

take my fiction class. because it's held in the arcellana library, it's easy to find and one can always just hang in the back and listen in. i know when i decided to take the plunge and try my hand at a writing career that i would necessarily put a lot of my stuff up for public scrutiny. i guess i just didn't count on having me being present during the scrutinizing process....

well, a public beating that will generate helpful writing tips can only do me good (right?)

quizzie!
Posted at 08:55 PM

well, this is interesting. ahahahahahahaha

What type of weather are you? Tornado You are a tornado. People KNOW when you're around. Some fear you.

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jigsaw
Posted at 11:08 PM

spent a good part of the night staring at a jigsaw puzzle that lay broken at my feet. i was close to getting it done. a few more pieces and i knew what they looked like it was just a matter of finding them.

then the other day i wasn't looking and i ran into the jigsaw and a chunk fell off. in my attempts to catch and salvage it, i knocked off the rest of the puzzle from the table. now it's shattered. and i don't remember anymore how to put it back together.

excerpt
Posted at 08:36 AM

hm. past entries have been to circumspect that no good! ahehehe

while i won't be posting whole stories here. this is an excerpt from the second story i'm doing for fiction class. much different from the first which has a number of problems. this one, while still not 'there' is more within my comfort zone. here is part of the story...


The lights went out just as I entered the room. Candlelight flickered around me. Then I heard Gary's voice coming through the air. His words, they sounded like poetry, Pablo Neruda as a matter of fact.

In my sky at twilight you are a cloud
and your form and colour are the way I love them.
You are mine, mine, woman with sweet lips
and in your life my infinite dreams live.

And there was Gary himself, walking towards me with a rose which he raised up to me while going down on his knees all the while reciting Neruda. Wow, I thought, he actually memorized this. Of course he got a couple of lines wrong, but still.

When I looked at the rose I saw something glitter at the end of its stem. Oh my God. "Gina," Gary said, hand to his chest, holding up the rose. He was apparently done with the poetry. "Will you marry me?"

I couldn't help it, I was too overwhelmed. I burst out laughing.



"I can't believe you turned down a marriage proposal!" my friend Tracy screamed when I told her about it. We were walking around Greenhills and I opened the topic with a “Guess what happened to me last night?”

"I can't believe he proposed!" I countered. "I mean, what, he thought I'd actually agree?"

"Well yeah! You've been going out for a bit."

"Oh please," I groaned, "It's not like he was my boyfriend or anything."

"Well you sure could've fooled him."

My friends have this annoying habit of sympathizing with the guys when it comes to things like this. It was a speech I was so familiar with I decided to save time by looking at the DVD catalogue while Tracy kept on. Blah blah blah. Gary was a nice guy. Blah blah blah. He really cared. Yada yada yada. And of course, the classic ending:

“Shouldn’t you think of settling down someday?”

“Do you think I should get the Sound of Music here or get the orig version from the States?” I held up a plastic case showing the fabulous Julie Andrews with arms outstretched.

“Gina! God, did you hear anything I said?”

“Yes. Gary. Nice. Settle. Well it’s a little too late for that, isn’t it?”

“Look, all I’m saying is, it’s not good to be alone.”

“I’m not alone, I’ve got Balthazar.”

“Balthazar is a dog. He will die ahead of you. You will still be alone.”

“Balthazar is sweet, loyal and doesn’t talk back. Plus he bites people I don’t like. What more could I want?”

“You’re hopeless.” And Tracy turned away and rifled through the DVD list.

recent lessons
Posted at 10:33 AM

another of those posts to keep me writing a few things i have learned in recent weeks that i thought i'd share...

1. chocolate vitasoy rocks! the vanilla and original flavors, however, do not.

2. frozen yoghurt doesn't work as well coming from the pint. especially the dark chocolate one. that deserves to be eaten live at the btic stand.

3. i was a total fool to have to spend more than P300 on t-shirts

4. it was really about time the Lakers revamp though i do wish karl malone stay for one more season

5. creative writing classes are fun!

6. you can drop an ericsson t68 numerous times and it won't mind. same goes for a palm.

7. the bally shop in the shang dropped their prices from P16k a pair to P5k a pair. still unaffordable for me, but just makes me wonder exactly how much those things really cost.

8. the regular ipod is still a better buy than the mini.

9. it's often worth the trouble to get movie tickets in advance or make sure you've got reservations.

10. my main misgiving about Spider-man 1 was really the Green Goblin. Doc Ock is a much more satisfying villain.

mondays
Posted at 10:43 AM

my schedule is so weird mondays are actually good days for me. well, coming out of a weekend into a 7am class isn't the most pleasant of things - but on monday my classes end at 10am and that's it

so right now i'm reading my students' blogs (i required my creative writing students to keep blogs) while wolfing down a can of vienna sausages for merienda. then off to make phone calls for the show... i look at my calendar: "no appontments for today" it says. yeba! dare i hope i can actually take a nap?

salamat and a plug
Posted at 02:21 PM

2,100 hits. thank you - whoever you guys are who read this

now that it seems people read this, allow me to plug a show on December 22, Wednesday, 7PM at the UP Bahay ng Alumni. a different kind of rock show, a different kind of dance show featuring High Beam and Up Dharma Down on stage together with the Murderesses. Ballet, jazz and rock music? it will be a great experience, i guarantee you and the show is free!

yes, i know it's 6 months away. but hey, we've been working on this since january so 6 months away is pretty close for the crew

see you there!

dates
Posted at 02:15 PM

i made a downpayment for the space for the show in december. that's it. commitment made.

planning a show is really a great source of joy for me and the feeling of paying the money to reserve a venue is special. it's like a point of no return, it's setting a deadline. everything's got to be done by such and such a date. in the case of the dance show it's december 22.

the later show already has that commitment but the rock show which is supposed to be on september doesn't yet. kinda strange. but there we have it.

yeah, rock show on september (we're going for sept 3 but that's not final yet) with kapatid and bamboo. that one won't be free but i hope to see you all there too

summer longing
Posted at 12:43 AM

i'm not sure if i've expressed this thought before...

for the first time in a very very long time, i felt sorry summer was over. the last time this hit me i must have been in college.

this summer was a blast! from the murderesses rehearsals at the start of it to the wild work chase heading into the school year at the end. in between in coffee shops, malls, bookstores, dvd land, baguio, mindoro... in my memory i know it will go down as one of the happiest summers of my life.

but when i think about it, there was a lot at stake those months. my degree, my job, my career. all were on the line - and for a moment there it was touch and go. i could have lost them all. and yet i never felt that. there were moments when i would worry yes, but i never really lost sleep over any of it. and for that i am extremely thankful. i do feel as if God, through people and events, buffered the whole thing. otherwise i would have been a nervous wreck for sure...

funny how things go sometimes.

Roman holiday
Posted at 05:33 PM

I miss Rome. There’s a tad bit of pretension there – considering I only stayed in Rome for 6 days, but I miss it nonetheless. I guess part of it has to do with the fact that while we did all the tourist-y things: visit the landmarks (the Colosseo, the Vatican, the Spanish Steps, the Fontana di Trevi, etc), there was something very untourist-like about our stay. We didn’t stay in a hotel. We took a small apartment in one corner of the city got to know the neighborhood’s routine a bit. The lady who’d walk her dogs at 6am, the pizza guy who’d stay open when other shops wouldn’t. The bus and train routes. The apartment building became home. The thud of the elevator as it made its way to whatever floor needed it. The routine of going in and out. That thick door opening into the hallway that contained three more doors, one of which was ours. I never did get the hang of opening that thick door.

Walking around, figuring things out. Trying to get by on Si, No, Grazie, Scusi. Looking at restaurant menus with a slight dismay hoping in vain that a regular meal could cost less than P400/head. Getting a taste for wine especially since it was cheaper than water. Spending a small fortune on bottled water with all the walking we were doing. Admiring the stray cats. Getting whiplash looking at all the good-looking people.

Knowing when the trains would be full. Hearing the familiar voice announce Furio Camila (or was it Furia Camilo. Oh no I forget). Getting to the exhibit everyday. Actually knowing people there who’d give us a big smile and wave when we’d arrive. Sabrina, Emanuela, Liz and Marco. Waiting a really long time for the bus back to our apartment.

Yeah. I miss Rome. Hard to believe that was almost a year ago. Will we get the chance to return? Who knows? Would’ve been hard to imagine getting there in the first place.

Here’s a shot of the street where we lived. Loopy outside the most magnificent sight there was: St. Peter’s Basilica. (yeah Loopy, I will burn you a CD )

thursday
Posted at 09:55 AM

yesterday was my very first ever writing workshop - for the first time i had my work up there like a pinata while everyone had their turn at the bat. wasn't as bad as i thought. the comments really helped a lot actually - hopefully this will become a better story when i've revised...

but now i know what mabi meant when she told me: earn your battle scars. got the first few lashings.

what i was looking forward to the whole week though was the opening of the philippine ballet theater with la bayadere. well, admittedly i'm not a terribly huge fan of classical ballet and most of it goes above my head. but i am a big fan of dance and i appreciate the rigors of ballet.

i was surprised how easy bayadere went down. that is, how much of it i actually understood and didn't go above my head. ok, granted i knew the general plot before watching - the narrative was still something i could follow.

i even found myself really caught up with the story. really upset when nikiya died and wanting to kick her boyfriend (who got engaged to some murdering witch) in the balls for not eventrying to fight for her. in the end he felt remorse and i was like: yeah yeah whatever. you don't stand up for her and NOW you feel remorse?

the lead female role of nikiya was performed that night by one of the principals - abi (i can't find the program that lists her full name right now). it was really great to see a ballet dancer carry that much emotion with her on stage. to actually feel the character's pain and to mourn over her death. she alternates with kit sanchez, undoubtedly one of the best dancers i'll ever get to see, but i'm really glad i caught abi and what she can bring to the stage.

it takes a really competent corps de ballet, i think, to pull off that hallucination scene where they were going down the ramp. good effects, great execution.

it's just amazing to think of the ways to tell a story. i am really grateful to be able to participate in such worlds...

on self-respect
Posted at 03:18 PM

got this excerpt from joan didion's essay called 'on self-respect.'

"Although to be driven back upon oneself is an uneasy affair at best, rather like trying to cross a border with borrowed credentials, it seems to me now the one condition necessary to the beginnings of real self-respect...The tricks that work on others count for nothing in that very well-lit back alley where one keeps assignations with oneself: no winning smiles will do here, no pretilly drawn lists of good intentions. One shuffles flashily but in vain through one's marked cards - the kindness done for the wrong reason, the apparent triumph which involved no real effort, the seemingly heroic act into which one had been shamed. The dismal fact is that self-respect has nothing to do with the approval of others - who are, after all, deceived easily enough; has nothing to do with reputation which...is something people with courage can do without."

and this line is terrific: People with self-respect have the courage of their mistakes.

at this point in my life, i find myself emphasizing to people the importance of a good name. of a certain sense of integrity in what you do. the free humility of admitting you're wrong and the ability to recognize when you're right.

good name, strength of character... both stem from knowing yourself and knowing yourself involves a certain honesty very few people have the courage to do. while we're not perfect, God doesn't make junk. and flaws are there for a reason. we don't have to keep guessing why but just know ourselves, know they're there. know what we're prone to do and avoid circumstances that could bring out the worst in us.

there are a few good people. some of my friends know that i very rarely use that phrase to describe somebody, and when i do i say it with the deepest respect. but just because we're not all that good doesn't mean we shouldn't respect ourselves. the acknowledgement of failings within the framework of accepting oneself is one of the noblest things a person can do.

i've come to realize that if one has that level of self-respect, then it's easier to let people live their own lives because then we will not be measuring our own lives by those of others.

and that's my homily for this week. i sure hope these come very few and far between hehe

write what you know
Posted at 10:15 AM

after my first fiction workshop, my teacher's parting words to me were: comedy is your strength, hwag ka na mag-angst. i agree.

while writing the first story i could feel myself struggle and strain. where's the huge conflict? shouldn't something large be at stake here? how to make the whole thing feel earthshaking?

there were snatches where little comic (in the aristotelean sense) and funny moments showed and these were what my classmates and teacher identified as parts they liked. ok, i get it.

so this second story i start with a voice and persona much more familiar to me. she's a character i know better. her world is a world i've traveled. and now i can't stop her. i've had to go back to her high school days to tell her story better. i'm going to have to travel through her early 20s to get to the 30 year old she is now.

uh oh

and i thought i had trouble with length. seems now my trouble will be getting this woman to shut up.

and just because it's beautiful
Posted at 08:39 PM

this song by sarah maclachlan...

I have a smile stretched from ear to ear
To see you walking down the road
We meet at the lights, I stare for a while
The world around us disappears
It's just you and me on my island of hope
A breath between us could be miles
Let me surround you, a sea to your shore
Let me be the calm you seek

But everytime I'm close to you
There's too much I can't say
And you just walk away

And I forgot to tell you
I love you
And the night's too long
And cold here
Without you
I grieve in my condition
For I cannot find the words to say
I need you so

point of view
Posted at 11:53 AM

"then don't think of it as fiction."

this was migs's advice as i was lamenting the fact that fiction really doesn't come easy to me (then again no writing does, but i'm feeling the strain in fiction class.)

so with this second story i'm giving it a go - problem is, because it does sound a bit like my nonfic would, i'm always looking to see if it's boring or too mundane or too ordinary. not enough conflict? characters not quirky enough?

i gave it a dry run and read a portion to my sisters - about a page or so. after reading my sister helen goes, "what kind of twisted world is that?"

good!

that means i'm on the right track

meet the murderesses
Posted at 03:34 PM

i've been talking about them but haven't introduced them yet, have i?

the girls who will rock the stage this december.

what? not demerol?
Posted at 11:59 AM

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these are the good old days
Posted at 05:52 PM

something in ailene's blog struck me. something about her being 22 and free and wanting the moment to be frozen...

it's great, isn't it when you're aware that you're in a good zone. that you won't just live through it with blinders on and find yourself 10 years later wondering what happened to the good old days. happiness is knowing you're IN the good old days

in my case, however, my early twenties were not my good old days. at 22 i stood at the edge of disaster and thought 'heck, why not?' and jumped in. thank God i got to climb out of the cliff about 6 years later, a terribly beaten and much chastised person. now when i see the edge again i think 'heck, i'm not doing THAT again.'

these, i think, are part of my good old days. the past couple of years have been good. no stupendous highs or lows - and for that i'm thankful. those 6 years in the chasm have given me more than enough drama to last me clear to 40 and beyond. this part of my life has been relatively calm and surrounded by great friends. some self discovery and tons of self acceptance. they've not been incredibly prosperous years, but years in which i have been able to afford a few luxuries and come to the valuable realization that, to paraphrase U2, what i don't have i don't need.

yeah, these are the good old days. thank God for them

traffic jam
Posted at 10:31 AM

the trick to managing 6 projects over and above a full 12-unit teaching load and full 6-unit study load while trying to write a book and earn money with miscellaneous rackets on the side is good traffic enforcement.

not time management. i find the term a little silly. how can you manage time? time will flow, tick tock, whether you like it or not. it's the stuff you do within the time that you can manage. and if, like me, you have more than a couple of things going, then you have to watch the flow of activities very carefully. they're deliberately queued - what has to go first is first in line. things that are dependent on previous activities are placed right behind the requisite activity. if you can clear up space by making certain activities go ahead, do so.

unfortunately, there will be days like today (which started last night) in which a couple of traffic lights to bust and some drivers aren't quick enough and they crash into each other. pretty soon your activities look like a 5-car pile up on the freeway.

and that's pretty much how things look for me right now

and yet i'm blogging. trying to get the aerial view so i can sort out the mess.

storyteller, i'll take that
Posted at 10:44 AM

got this from ailene's blog... i don't remember the book though i know i read it. well, a storyteller in any form is fine by me


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it does get easier but...
Posted at 11:46 AM

one of my favorite movie lines was that toast in parent trap: cheers, may your life be far less complicated than mine.

i remember a time when my life was (or at least felt) sooooo complicated, of the gordian knot variety. now, thank God, it isn't. or at least it doesn't feel that way. but it is hard. simple, but hard.

i texted stef last night and whined: as a writing student, not only do you have to be a good student (read everything and know how to critique) but you have to be a good writer as well. add that the desire to be a good teacher and, well, there is a considerable amount of pressure.

then there is the fact that writing is a passion and it does consume me. so does putting the shows together. put everything together and what have you got? bippityboppityboo. i disappear. i am consumed by it all, and in the process exhausted.

so life is simple because i have a clear notion of where i'm at and what i want to be doing and i'm very blessed to be doing just that. but it gets hard, there's so much.

but no way am i letting go of anything. being consumed by passion is really the only way to live, isn't it?

recording
Posted at 10:18 AM

i have found another love. not that i'm letting go of any of the old ones... just that i found something that taps another vein.

if i can't make music, i will produce it. and i love the fact that the producer is in on almost all creative decisions. almost the best of both worlds

had my first taste yesterday recording a 3-track broadway cd with sherie . what a ride! getting things down, listening to the music in the raw, getting to put it together hoowa!

i can't wait, can't wait for this orig cd to be cut. it will be a slow process and by the looks of it not cheap, but wow. can't put a price on that kind of thing. it's creative work, narrative building on a whole other level. almost like show production but a different rush - because a cd lasts and can be passed around. less of a roller coaster ride which is like show production... but more of a slow build, like weaving or pottery.

yeah, y'all who'll be doing that other cd - we're in for something good!

cousins
Posted at 04:23 PM

this was taken during the last reunion, june 27. that's not the whole bunch. two were not in manila (but were in the country), 8 are out of the country, and we've lost 2 (one to cancer, and one to a shooting incident).

been through a lot. boy has this family been through a lot. and it's one of the best things i think that this group of cousins has become a group of friends.

excerpt ulit
Posted at 06:04 PM

in anticipation of its completion, here are the first 3 paragraphs of the first draft of a narrative that i have to submit for class. still untitled hehe largely because my titling skills stink. thousand words. got a thousand words to go on this thing... (just thought that posting an excerpt will give me a sense of finality and make the panic subside )

Teacher’s Village has got to be one of the most ironic places on the planet. And that’s not just because there are very few teachers who live here. The street names – a litany of adjectives in Filipino – are not only confusing, they’re wholly inaccurate.

I live on a street with a name that means constant and unchanging. Me, who’s gone into four different fields in three academic degrees. Claret, the incredibly rowdy boys school right behind my house, is sprawled on a street named mahinhin, not rough, refined. The street that is constantly being dug up because of the unsolvable flooding problem is matahimik, untroubled.

For the uninitiated, Teacher’s Village is a veritable labyrinth. People stop for directions and when asked what street they’re looking for, all they can say is: “ma…ma….not sure of the name but it starts with ‘ma’.” (I’ve often wondered if people residing in the Scout area have the same problem). In cases like that I just always say, “Ah! I know that street, turn left at the second corner then right at the third,” and leave them for lost.

this, as they say, is the doozy
Posted at 08:34 PM

i can't teach tomorrow. not my lit class. i lost my readings.

well, i had them then completely forgot where i put them. searched my room. searched my car. searched the department office, searched the ref. nada.

can't i teach from memory? nope. the last time i read the story was, oh, a couple of years ago. i know, i know. if you're reaction is anything less than: "ang tanga tanga mo!" then you're too kind.

and so, in my own rendition of burying my head in a hole in the ground, i spent the last couple of hours trying to edit my blog template.

i can't get those blasted black letters on the right bar to shrink.

they've got another gig!
Posted at 01:44 PM

i was on my way to class and, as i usually do, i read the posters on the bulletin boards to check out upcoming events on campus... then something caught my eye.

the unity band.

they've got a gig in UP as part of a fraternity's anniversary celebration.

the unity band.

i thought i'd never hear about them again after catching them during the miriam high school fair thing.

there i caught them going through every musical genre there was starting with vanessa carlton's thousand miles (to which the singer - dressed in a short denim skirt, long black patent leather boots, and a hanging pink long-sleeved knit blouse - didn't seem to know the lyrics) to ric segreto to j lo to the gogos of the 80s to disco. i remember thinking aloud, "what? no broadway?"

i wonder if it's the same unity band. if it is, then the audience is in for quite an experience...

another mac rhapsody
Posted at 01:34 PM

I was really pleased when i found out that one of my favorite writers, douglas adams (hitchhikers guide) was an avid mac user.

in one of his essays he writes: "Let me make one thing clear. I adore my Macintosh... The thing that has kept me enthralled and hypnotised by it in all that time is the perception that lies at the heart of its design, which is this: 'There is no problem so complicated that you can't find a very simple answer to it if you look at it the right way.'"

i know exactly how he feels and i couldn't have said it any better. i would think that one of the reasons life is a bit simpler for me now is that the right tools are around to manage things. certainly not being completely overwhelmed by 12 units of teaching, 6 units of studying, 7 projects, and a book (to paraphrase an earlier post) has got to do with the fact that i work on machines that give no trouble whatsoever.

heading the list is, obviously, piglet. i've never lost any time because i had to have piglet fixed, or because piglet stalled or something. when i'm really busy he can go for about a month without being shut down. everything just works. and that really is one of the best things about the mac.

the downside of course is that since my tools are so effiicient, the only downtime i'd have would be due to, um, me. and there have been times when i can't think my way through the labyrinth of things that have to be done i sure wish i had a machine breaking down to blame.

but i don't (and people know i don't so i can't even pretend). and i'll take that any day

Posted at 10:24 AM

home early. feeling yecky.

still tried to teach this morning. even if my throat was really scratchy and didn't feel like it could go through 3 hours of class. even if after 40 minutes the room started to feel really unstable. i marched bravely on. even if i wasn't sure how loud my voice was because all the words kept reverberating in my head. teach i did.

but when i said impraised instead of impressed, i knew it was time to go home.

further into teachers' village
Posted at 07:38 AM

[submitted the full version of this to class. 2,200 words. whew! pangit pa rin ng title. sigh. and yes, it's before 8am. early. that's because i've got class at 8:30 and i'm still sick... sobsobsob]

Since Teachers’ Village is not a private subdivision, we are constantly the object of some politician’s maniacal desire to improve public utilities by digging things up. Not too long ago, some utility company made an excavation a few meters from our house. ‘Made an excavation’ being a polite term for what they actually did which was blast the neighborhood with the roar of a jackhammer going through asphalt for hours on end. And when that was done, strangely enough, they abandoned the pit they created, covering it only with uneven metal sheets that made a clanging thud every time a car would pass over them.

I never realized how many cars passed our street until they placed those sheets. Until the wee hours of the morning people kept driving by. I could feel my hands ball up and my toes curl every time I would hear a car turn the corner. In a couple of seconds came the blag blag of the tires going over the sheets. Who were all these people?

Earlier in the night though, the thudding could hardly be heard. That was because the sound was drowned by the chorus of the neighbors talking, which they always do at the top of their voices starting about 9 at night. Their discussions obviously revolved around planning their upcoming videoke sessions because a few minutes later the sing-along machine was fired up and everybody took a whack at it. Their staples included ‘Be My Lady,’ ‘Lost in Love,’ and the videoke classic ‘My Way.’ I read in the papers about somebody getting shot because he sang ‘My Way’ all wrong. That explains why my neighbors choose to sing in the safety of their home, where they are out of gun-range.

But even a mixture of wailing and thudding eventually becomes white noise, making sleep possible. So my eyes were starting to close. I could feel myself get… very… sleepy. Then BOOM! pause. BOOM BOOM BOOM. Fireworks. I racked my brain thinking what possible occasion there could be to explode firecrackers in the middle of March. The only thing I could think of was Lent, and last I checked this wasn’t a season that called for pyrotechnics.

i just had to
Posted at 10:51 PM

too amusing not to post. hehe


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song of tarsuma
Posted at 07:24 PM

this is the title of a story that was submitted in my fiction class (studying, not teaching). it blew me away.

it's the story of tarsuma, a tausug princess, who grew up educated in the american schools in jolo. later, she attended vassar in the states. but all this time she kept on impressing on her sister the importance of duty in their lives.

she was engaged to datu haroun, but was in love with an american named dewitt. on her 21st birthday, she had to come home to marry the datu and fulfill the family obligations.

but while all this was going on, the americans were causing trouble in sulu - eroding the foundations of the culture, appropriating lands and institutions for themselves. the sultanate was getting very tense. and it was to this that the american-schooled princess tarsuma returned. to complicate matters, dewitt soon followed - both love and duty, being employed by the american state department.

soon the situation exploded and the american atrocities became too much for the people to handle and the people decided to fight for their honor and culture and freedom. they assembled at a mountain, 600 of them. and their princess joined them.

her younger sister went to see her and saw the princess, dressed in western garb but with a purple cloth tied around her head in a warrior's knot. the datu was dressed in all white with all his hair shaved, ready to die.

the sisters smiled at each other because they knew that would be the last time they'd meet and they wanted the last image of each other to be happy.

and so the people of jolo, armed with nothing more than their krises of honor did battle with the invaders, the colonizers and their guns and grenades.

and the last view of the princess tarsuma was of her leaping astride a white horse taking her to heaven.

(and just when i was all weepy over the story, the clincher came. it's true.)

a tiny rant on writing and plagiarism
Posted at 10:12 AM

i think all of us in fiction class were a bit surprised when we found ourselves much taken with the Song of Tarsuma (see summary in post below). yep, it does sound a teensy bit hokey spelled out like that, but trust me - it's beautifully written.

and original.

which brings me to something else that was discovered during our 7-hour marathon fiction make-up class yesterday: a plagiarist exists in our midst.

plagiarists bug the hell out of me. for the rest of us, writing is serious business. kahit na yearbook write up lang yan, we weigh every word. it is very very important. we are kept up nights by our characters and plots. when we walk around we don't see objects, we see scenes and descriptions (much like how neo sees strings of numbers when he's in the matrix). well, ok, not all the time - but you get it. words and writing matter a lot.

and then there are morons who lift storylines, add to them their own ungrammatical sentences, a dash of hopelessly wrong idioms and try to pass it off as an original work. worse, some lines from the original work are retained making the whole thing look even more incongruous. like this fellow. kung di ba naman sya tanga't kalahati, mangongopya na nga lang, galing pa sa libro na sikat, that was made into a movie which starred brad pitt (no, not troy, that would be the pits of pathetic - plagiarizing the iliad). duh. someone's bound to notice.

ika nga ni joanna: some people can write and some people suck so much they plagiarize which makes them suck even more.

mismo.

i just thought i'd vent all that out before i continue making my eng 1 midterm exam. don't want to do that while annoyed hehe. might make it more sadistic than it already is.

look what i just did
Posted at 05:03 PM

ants hovering in the vicinity of piglet told me that he needed a little cleaning. so rather than cough up 2,000 at the apple center, i did the best i could at home and did what i know i should have done before but never had the guts to til now.

i took my keyboard apart.

when i popped the first key i actually felt a little nauseated and put it back right away. when i saw that was easy enough to do, i popped it again and within 5 minutes had the whole thing dismantled. took a lot of time to clean, but now piglet looks almost new again

i did search the net for tips before actually pulling things apart and the best advice i found was: make sure you have a map of your keyboard before actually taking anything away. hehe

my ultimate angst song
Posted at 10:42 AM

i must have been an angsty kid. you know, teenager who thought the world sucked and all that. i just finished a draft of this story about high school people and it brought a lot of things back. yeah, i must have been an angsty kid because this song below was my anthem. it was orginally done by the who but the version i have on piglet has eddie vedder on vocals with pete townsend on guitar.

Behind Blue Eyes

No one knows what it's like
To be the bad man
To be the sad man
Behind blue eyes

No one knows what it's like
To be hated
To be fated
To telling only lies

But my dreams
They aren't as empty
As my conscience seems to be

I have hours, only lonely
My love is vengeance
That's never free

No one knows what it's like
To feel these feelings
Like I do
And I blame you

No one bites back as hard
On their anger
None of my pain and woe
Can show through

But my dreams
They aren't as empty
As my conscience seems to be

I have hours, only lonely
My love is vengeance
That's never free

When my fist clenches, crack it open
Before I use it and lose my cool
When I smile, tell me some bad news
Before I laugh and act like a fool

If I swallow anything evil
Put your finger down my throat
If I shiver, please give me a blanket
Keep me warm, let me wear your coat

No one knows what it's like
To be the bad man
To be the sad man
Behind blue eyes

the cart before the horse
Posted at 04:14 PM

curiouser and curiouser.

with much thanks to stef (through the extreme kindness of her tita rose montenegro), we got pldt to give us a little money as part of our efforts to raise funds for our book caravan. also got word that the office of the governor of tarlac is also giving some support maraming maraming salamat!

here's the funny thing though. these are 'profits' from the concert that we're supposed to mount in september. we've got the profits, but still don't have enough to cover the actual show

but we're close, it seems we're close.

childbirth can't be harder than this
Posted at 08:29 PM

it's gone through different names: the Philippine literature comics project, likhaan komiks, obra maestra...

it's gone through different possible combinations: 6-issue compilation, 6 single issues, release 5, 4, compile them, don't. how about 2 stories per book? or 3?

i always like to say that if you see blood, sweat and tear stains on this book, those would be mine

it's a project that we started late 2001 or early 2002 (i can't remember anymore). comic book adaptations of contemporary Philippine short stories. every step - from submitting the grant proposal (there's this scene that shows me lying down on the fc corridor in despair because they moved the deadline up one week and i wasn't ready) to this stage, trying to get the books printed - has been filled with incredible highs and lows.

each time i'd see a page done - kahit na sketch lang - i'd feel exhilirated. there's nothing like the creative process to make you feel in touch with something divine. the obstacles could send me into bouts of irritability and grief. and this has been going on for 2 years. i don't think i can take much more of it.

today the press informed me that they'll commit to one story initially (in 2 languages), and depending on how it does, the others may or may not get printed. i have very little choice. it's either take this option or shop around for another publisher. i have a moral commitment to the UP Press and i should keep it. but to choose one story - and hope that it does well enough so that the others get out. gad to choose one.

i should read that book, sophie's choice, again for empathy value.

the creative process
Posted at 05:32 PM

oops, i don't know how to make it bigger. until i do, all you have to do is click on the image to make it readable hehe
[img:333909]

why i love production 1
Posted at 01:46 PM

sometimes i wonder how many years production work has taken away from my life expectancy

in those particular moments when you can't find the funds, when the talents are hard to find, or somebody backs out a week before the show (in my case the closest was backing out a day before the show.hoowa) i must admit the thought crosses my mind: "the heck am i doing?"

but that passes after about 15 minutes i love productions

and last night i was reminded of some of the reasons why. in the middle of doing nothing (well, i was playing monopoly on my palm) i was thinking of things to do for the december show - things that maybe could be done now just to avoid a mad panic in november. got to thinking about the high beam orig song we have to mix and on a whim i trotted to piglet, opened the lid and checked out this software called audacity i had installed. lo and behold, it can mix i can mix music

great ideas never cease to amaze me. how creative people can get, how resourceful, how passionate.

and late last night i got a text from stef about another possible sponsor expressing interest. yeba!

it's the little things that make the production so worth it well, i called this 'why i love production 1' kasi for sure may 2 and 3 and 4 and up pa. but this is a start.

i love production because each one is a little miracle in itself

Posted at 10:24 AM

this is taken from a piece that was taken apart yesterday together with the one about teachers' village. both will be part of the book that will hopefully come out before the year ends. and hopefully you guys consider giving it a read. hehe


How can I be bothered by the constant irritation in my throat when I can always compare it to the fun of mid-torso post-surgical pain?

It was actually quite enlightening to observe myself in such intense pain. I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, and was deathly pale – as the nurse remarked in the few minutes she spent watching me suffer before giving me the painkiller.

But I forgive that nurse because seconds after she quipped, “Oo nga ano, masakit, di ka na makahinga,” she stuck a needle into my butt and shot me full of Demerol.

Demerol is great stuff. You can feel it creep through your veins, smothering pain as it goes along. And when the pain is all gone, your mind catches up and floats around in a bright beautiful haze. That is why, as my dentist said, they don’t sell those kinds of drugs over the counter.

The Demerol was almost worth the stress of the surgery I had to undergo to take my gall bladder out. The bladder had to go because it had this nasty predisposition to form stones. And stones, I found out, cause severe pain. Imagine clamping your esophagus with a pair of pliers and giving it a quarter inch turn. Do this every 30 minutes and you will be able to fully appreciate the havoc wreaked by gallstones.

You know that saying about pain making you a stronger person? Well, that’s just something people tell you to make you stop whining. Ok fine, emotional pain may build character; but physical pain just hurts.