Raining June

Its June already. and as you know, in our country June is the beginning of the rainy season, where the bright blue sky and vivid white clouds is now covered with dark gray sky (or at literally clouds, but at time the clouds looks more of a sky). It is such a wonderful thing since during afternoon you can hear the dropping water into your roof while you are in your bed and about to sleep.

Rain has so many memories of mine. It reminds me yearly that school year is about to begin (where I always experienced wet socks inside my shoes during my grade school days). When I was younger me and my siblings used to bath at rain during mid-May. My mother said, which came from grandma, that the first rain in May is where grace is being showered from Paradise. But during that time, I only just enjoy of running in the streets while the rain pours from the sky rather than what mother told me.

Someone also told me that rain is a gift from God, that He throws coins of grace from the heavens. But when it became louder and wilder and stronger, it is no longer coins but babies being cast out from heaven. This are the unbaptized babies who are quite unfortunate enough to refuse to enter to paradise.

I don't sure who told me this story but it is such a sad story. But then, it is not a barrier to unlike rainy days.

Purgatory Week

It's Purgatory week (not hell week yet!) and my Asian History exam is approaching. And right now I am busy reviewing my papers about the history of Japan and other Asian regions. So sadly, I will have no post for the several next days... Whew! Wish me luck!

I told you last time about one of my favorite films "Itim" (Rites of May). Luckily, I found a video clip of this on the internet! It is the last part of the movie and it is in Tagalog language. Unfortunately, it doesn't have any subtitles.

Anyway, the scene opens with the protagonist's eerie dream where you can see life size, hyper realistic statues of Christ and/or the Apostles slowly moving towards him. It cuts rights across the entire film and to the next scene about the revelation of the old man's past about his lover which he killed and thrown into the river. The old man was quite stunned to hear the anguished, hysterical voice of his previous lover, now righteously but frighteningly vengeful (the soul possessed the girl, just like in exorcisms) that he wheeled backwards his chair and fell down the stairs.

It was a tragic story, and I was amazed by the eerie air in Mike de Leon's work when they aired it on TV during the Holy week when I was young.

It is getting warmer these days. The sky is burning blue and the sun creates bright yellowish light. It is the same sky as the last year's sky, which inspired the setting of my unfinished story for the bunny.

Second Parents and Summer

In the 16 years of schooling, I've had my share of better professors. Perhaps you heard this kind of list before. Often, upperclassmen are asked to recommend professors by the newer students who will take the same subjects-- a tradition partly kept as a precaution, understandably since no one wants to be managed by "terror" teachers, as we call them. But of the most memorable of them, I want to share their wonderful traits as mentors, and how they managed to influence me as who I am today.

The first of them was my teacher in grade school named Pablo Salazar. He was a tall and thin man, with bony cheeks and large eyes (I am describing his appearance because I never forgot his unusual height). He was my art teacher at that time. I remember when he taught me how to illustrate through oil pastels. This was my primary medium back then, and to be honest with you, I merely started using water-based mediums such as watercolor and acrylic when I came to college three years ago. Anyway, he always supported me in art contests. Once, I won in one the grand prize of cash and an oil painting of a bird by a well known architect in the Philippines because of his coaching.

The next one came from my high school years. And she is Gina Manalili, my first year high school teacher in local history. And she was the one who made me appreciate history. She was a gentle woman in her 30’s.

My third memorable professor was also from the high school faculty,also from my first year. He was my Religion teacher, Demosthenes Calabria; we called him Brother Dem. He belonged to the Catholic order that oversaw our school. What I liked about him is that he united our class, and bound us classmates closer to each other. He visited our houses by his bike to greet us or to invite us for a get-together activity, or just to have a little chat with us or with our parents. Rather approachable despite a distinct, beatified air about him, we all considered him as a very good friend. Sadly, he was destined to another branch of our school soon after that year ended, and we rarely saw him again.

The fourth one I met in my second year, and she was my Filipino language teacher, Roshel Arceo. My first impression of her was that she numbered amongst the "terror" profs--which was somewhat true, despite of her young age, but justifiably so. She made the class compete against one another for seven “magical” objects. These objects, made of cardboard and in a shape of stars, orb, rode, and others, containing power of "infallibility" in class, as well as high grades from examinations or recitations. But to achieve these objects, there would be a debate about a specific topic, or a speech contest, or a group presentation. And of course the best group would receive the award. And the group holding the object shall maintain they place until someone will took it.

I included them and a few more of my notable high school professors in my first story which I dedicated to a high school friend I wrote about before.

The next two will come from my college. He was quite renowned not only in the classes that he taught in, but also amongst his colleagues in his respective field; he is Marlon Rivera, my advertising teacher in third year. He gave me some practical advice for our future careers, not to mention the way he teaches is also highly applicable in everyday life. The man was very critical, but he made so much sense that we didn't mind getting dissed; instead, we would be quite anxious to make up for our past mistakes. No one wanted to disappoint him, because when he talked, you could almost believe he saw potential in you, no matter how helpless you were in reality. He was also terribly quotable that even now the bunny remembers the times she got reproached for her work (we were working on ad slogans most of the time) and work habits with lines like: "Do it once, it's funny. Do it twice, it's not, it's stupid," and "Is freedom really the point of adulthood? No. The point of adulthood is responsibility."

And of course, the last but not the least is my teacher in Philippine History (Kasaysayan1) during my third year college, Kristoffer Esquejo. Aside from my high school local history teacher, Ma’am Gina, he further developed my love for history, as he expounded on every detail of past events (with a little comedy to match). He had a very good approach towards students, probably because he understands us (being still young, around in his mid 20’s). At that time, he wasn't officially counted amongst the tenured professors in the university since he was still working on his Master's degree, yet I could say he was one of that faculty's most brilliant and inspiring teachers. I should know since I also had the misfortune of getting into subjects with History professors who, although they knew their stuff, would bore you to the point of sleeping, or regret that you had to remember the past. History with them was always too academic, but with Prof. Esquejo, it was alive.

Next semester, I have to get new subjects to complete my credits. I still hear of some very good teachers in our university that I have never personally encountered. I hope I will have a chance to learn under some of them. But of course, I should never forget the ones who are not professors who teaches class in a formal school, but are simply ordinary people yet they give me very good advice and lessons in life. Among them are the ones who are closest to me, friends, and relatives (thanks, Bunny!), including ones whom I never met in person but gave me in spirit encouragements and advise in life (thanks, Candie). All of them are the ones who shaped me the way I am today.

***

But before the next semester begins, there is the summer vacation, and it is fast approaching. The days are getting so much warmer. And I wish I could visit a beach over the next months for some relaxation, away from the tiring academic days.

The Old and the New

December is a special month for me. Aside from the fact that I was born in that month, on the 19^th day, and that there's a chilly wind during the days and nights, gifts from Christmas, and people simply merry-making, it is the end of the year. This something really special for me. From there you could see the summary of what you did in that year, that is, the last 11 months. Just reminiscing about them, the beautiful times as well as the worse ones. Sometimes, I try remember them and write about it like a story of sorts. With this, I could see how the story went by throughout the year.

I can still remember the December from two years before. The sun shone on morning dew on the grass, and there was fog over a distant green field. We saw this the morning after that painful night when we slept on the cold stone corridor of the college. During that time we were working overnight for the float that will be shown for the annual lantern parade in our school. And after a short sleep, the bunny and I spent the beautiful morning walking and taking in this wonderful view before we had our breakfast in a cafeteria. The cold numbed our ears and fingertips as we slowly walked on the damp road. It was a wonderful experience. We seldom have the pleasure of strolling during mornings when the sun shines gently, with morning dew on the grass and cold breeze brushing our faces. But if I had another chance, I won’t hesitate to do it again.

As I have said before, my childhood age had ended this past year, on my 21^st birthday, and a fresh new phase is starting for me. For that occasion, I received a watercolor pad from the bunny. I always wanted to have this so that I can practice more on my watercolor since I started watercolor as a medium about two years ago (yes, before that my primary medium before was pastels and acrylics). A fresh start. But of course, I cannot deny that cannot help feeling nostalgic sometimes, that I always want to recall some of my beautiful memories, and wishing I can relive them again.

And now it is the new decade. I have to wait for several months more before December, before I can have a chance to experience all those memories again. There is no winter in our country, or snow, but I still feel happy about it. And for me this is December.

***

I saw this random antique house interior in the blog called "Iloilo on Foot". It is a very wonderful blog that features old Spanish colonial churches (which are some of the places I'd like to explore) and other things in Iloilo, in the Philippines. You can visit their site here. I just remembered my grandparent's house (that is, my mother's parents) in our province, Tarlac, in this picture. Similarly, they had many religious statues during my grade school days. But my aunts and uncles gradually dismantled the collection one by one, bringing the icons to their own houses.

When I was a child, my aunts to make me draw religious icons for them.They sometimes called me "Father" (as in Reverend Father) during that time because I would almost draw religious things excusively. Almost one and a half decade later, when we last visited our province, my Aunt Rosalinda showed me some of my drawings, done in pen on cheap paper, of those religious images that kept all those years in her old wooden cabinet. I am quite happy for this since she kept my drawings there for a very long time (because I don't keep much of my works since my shelves are too small for all them). The picture of Saint Rita above is from a book about religious icons in South america. Though I forgot what was the name of the book but it features Latin American images from around the 16th to the 19th century.

***

This year, I must find a sideline to earn some money for the next school year since my sister told me that I'll be paying for myself from now on. And also I must buy new sandals and bag since they started to retire from their jobs (they are the ones the bunny bought for me as a present before she went to Spain almost five months ago). I wonder if I should sell some of my works over the net, or to my colleagues. I know it is hard to earn money; especially it is your first time to experience it. But I don’t have plans to place ads in my blog. I just want to tell stories here and keep it that way. Stories and beautiful art should somehow be told and done for themselves.

This is a recent illustration of mine entitled Chasing the Sun. I made it last December. I haven't posted this illustration last time because of other things, and that I've been working with my recent posts. With this illustration, I tried to do an exaggeratedly bent body but with Limbourg faces and tones, but it was hard to do it with watercolor. Though I don't have much words about this one, I leave the theme and the message of the illustration to you. :)

A Tour from the Past

Top to bottom, left to right.

1. Across the Universe 2. The Tale of my new Header 3. My Mother’s Family Tree 4. Curious Expeditions 5. The Bunny goes to Spain 6. Memories of April 7. Memories of March 8. Memories of the Rainy May 9. Memories of Sunny February 10. Tales about Rabbits 11. Pia’s art and the Memory of the Storm 12. The Moss and the Tree 13. My Old Header 14. My New Sketchpad 15. Rima Staines 16. Pictures of Kitty 17. Gabriel Pacheco 18. The Church Model 19. My Cathedral Model 20. Our Portrait 21. Father of the House and My Father’s Tale 22.Warfare 23. Bernt Notke’s Danse Macabre 24. Rediscovery of Old Works

The New Year has arrived! And also, it has been a year since I started this blog. And since it is its first birthday, I'd like to remember those that had happened in the past 12 months. It is quite good to recall the days of old and reminiscence on good memories. Like what I did last time, when I visited the place where I once passed through, like the hospital where I was born, the church where I was baptized, and the schools I went to before college. It is quite good to revisit them after some long, long years.

I remember when I started this blog twelve months ago when my very first entry was about the book I read about The Battles of Thirty Years War by William Guthrie. I was, and still am, fascinated by warfare as part of my childhood memories when I used to play soldiers, putting them in mock battles, with horses and dinosaurs and knights brandishing swords and weapons. And I put a picture of a morning star (a kind of mace) in the mosaic.

I wrote also about my plates and projects in school, like my pop up work, a project for my one of my most unlikeable classes since I was in grade school, Mathematics. But somehow that project worked and I got a good grade.

Speaking of projects, I also made and later talked about the model of a Cathedral façade for my Art History class. Made mostly of recycled materials and cardboards, I did it well. And also, there were two plates for my one of my favorite classes, Advanced Illustration. The first one is about the songbook for "Across the Universe" by Fiona Apple, and the second one is a portrait of my mother’s family tree, going as far as my great grand parents to my generation with houses on the head of the married male. You can look at what I am talking about.

Speaking of families, this is also the main topic of my thesis next year, which speaking about the essence of family portraits.

For the past twelve months, I also discovered and encountered artists who moved me and became inspirations of my work. There is Rima Staines who made these beautiful grotesque artworks and the colors of rust, of amber, of umber, and of brown, that makes me delighted. There are also the beautiful pictures by Kitty, those landscapes and green field makes me at ease and also gave me ideas for my stories. And there is also the hazy and wonderful work of Gabriel Pacheco, who is a favorite artist of the bunny and me. In his work, these misted atmospheres and dream landscape always fascinates me. And of course, I should not forget the old masters like Jan Van Eyck and Arthur Rackham.

The sites and realm of blogs such as the Curious Expeditions, where I am amazed by its combination of history and mystery, Sur la Lune the wonderful blog of old children’s book illustrator masters, and the other blogs who shared their lives, and thoughts, works of their art and other people’s works.

There are also the memorable months for me; the sunny February and March, the April when the Bunny and I went on our own job training; and the rainy May when we finished it, and at the same time, I was starting to paint my recent header, and some random pictures.

And also, I should not forget my old, almost forgotten works like my old header and those that have hidden in my shelves for years. Good thing that I did not give them away, but they are still hiding from me I guess.