Slip of the Pen

Subtitled: This Year’s Birthday Post


You’re aboard your car or some public transport, and you’re on your way to somewhere fearsome, something momentous.

You know the drill.

Your chest feels like it’s getting drilled. You gulp down inordinate amounts of saliva, and it feels as if a swarm of pupae hitched a ride down into your stomach where they would metamorphose into the proverbial butterflies. You try to distract your edgy self by staring at the world whizzing past the window, but your mind always recoils and fixates on one question. Will I fail the exams? Will Tito survive the operation? Will I impress the boss? Will She accept my flowers?

I’m not spared from these oh-God-let’s-just-get-this-over-with days. The nervous days in my life are as rife as the nerve endings of my body. How-I-Can-Change-the-Philippines elocution contests, ABS-CBN tapings, puppy love Valentine’s Days, thesis presentations, writers’ workshops.

And I’ve always got the most adrenalin-inducing, aorta-pumping start to this kind of days.

The moment I step out of our quinquagenarian apartment (read: fifty years, I just wanted you to hear the hoof beats in that word), I already feel like a soon-to-be-tested warrior. The swirling dust of Cordillera Street is the dust of the battlefield, and the overhead sun coaxes the sweat from my tense skin. (Of course, this poetic image is washed down when it’s the stormy season, but hey, the sleek curtain of raindrops more than makes up for it theatrically.) The noise and the blur of vehicles in front of me add to the atmosphere, making me hear war drums and making me see charging knights and scurrying squires.

I then flag down my stallion (or should I say, pony?) – one of the hundreds of tricycles plying Galas. “Boss, Quezon Av,” I thunder.

With that command, my warhorse (quinquagenarian-quinquagenarian-quinquagenarian) kicks into action, sometimes with a proud BROOOOOOM!, and sometimes with a meek brukdukdukdukdukduk. Especially when the stallion’s quite robust, I cling to the seat or the metal frame in the same way I would cling to my mount’s reins, and I imagine myself carrying a waxed, glinting lance into battle. Unfortunately, the lance is but my dirty shoulder bag.

A few gallops and I pass by Doña Aurora Elementary School, and the sight of the children adds to my anxiety. Not because I fear their being collateral damage in the battle I’m going to, but because they resurrect a lot of nervous moments from my having-to-wear-a-uniform years, such as my flag ceremony role of reciting the Panatang Makabayan (Patriotic Oath) from memory in grade school and my ‘fabulous pretty boy moment’ as the Helen-snatching Paris in the annual Iliad play in PSHS. Remembering past nervous moments in a current nervous moment is akin to beating your brain like an egg.

To make matters worse for my nerves, right across Doña Aurora is our parish church, and like a dutiful crusader I make the Sign of the Cross. I say my prayers, ask for His blessing, ask for Jesus’ guidance, and ask for the Holy Spirit to give me courage. In truth, like a dutiful crusader willing to charge headfirst into death, I’m just making peace with my God while struggling to make peace with my guts.

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Last Tuesday was the most electric event I’ve ever been to.

January 8, 2008 marked the kick-off for the University of the Philippines’ Centennial Celebration. The event wasn’t grand — it was spectacular. One week has passed and I’m still euphoric, especially when browsing through my and other people’s photos and videos.

The following is my longest ever photo-essayish post at 36 pics. My inept photgraphy skills don’t do justice to the sights we witnessed. You had to be there to savor it. As always, click to enlarge the pictures.

My dear high school friend Minik met up with Ia and me at Sarah’s (of all places!) before proceeding to the Oblation plaza. Minik was taking a well-deserved home vacation after working the past months in Singapore.

Approaching the Oblation plaza, at around 4 P.M. The towering trees lining up the Academic Oval have always been a source of inspiration for me.

At this point, the excitement was very palpable in the air. Many people were chatting with voices slightly shaking in excitement, and laughs were in abundance. The UP Ang Galing Mo song blared through the loudspeakers, and the drums thundering to the tune of UP’s cherished school cheers spiked UP pride in everyone’s veins.

The UP Oblation. Too-much-information-ahead warning: I was just able to take this shot because I had to go to the loo in Quezon Hall.

My day shot of Quezon Hall. You can spot the Centennial Cauldron in the midst of the crowd; the flame would be lit up a few hours later.

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Yesterday was the closing day of the world’s largest floating book fair docked at Manila’s South Harbor — the MV Doulos. Having heard that this could be possibly the last time that Manila welcomes the Doulos (the ship is already a whopping 93 years old and will be retired in 2010), me and my friends set aside last Friday, January 21, as our “Recto-Doulos field trip day”.

Recto-Doulos? For the uninitiated, C.M. Recto Avenue is one of Manila’s main thoroughfares and a regular haunt of bargain book hunters. So Friday, in essence, was our “book buying field trip”. The ‘outing’ was a nice reward for ourselves for hurdling the LIRA Fellows’ Night, as well as a self-gift for Christmas.

Pau in white, yours truly with the new (and quite ungainly) short hair in black, Ia in blue, and JC in dark green. Thanks to Pau’s mom for the shot.

The book hunters were made up of my co-LIRA Fellows, JC and Pau (who brought along her very affable mom), Ia, and yours truly. Unfortunately, Kel wasn’t able to come. (Huy, na-miss ka namin! Hehe.)

We were lucky to arrive (around lunchtime) at a queue-free book fair. This drew a collective sigh of relief from us — we’ve seen some Doulos-at-Manila pics showing long lines snaking through the South Harbor.

We got a free ride by offering our unmatched greeting and ushering talents. Just kidding. No, seriously.

As can be expected, the ship’s crew/volunteers were mostly non-Filipino; when we were paying our Php 10 entrance fees, I blurted out “Dalawa po,” not realizing that a Caucasian was manning the booth.

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I still have a hangover from last Tuesday’s ‘celebration’. It was a celebration, all right — a fête to a dozen or so young poets who survived six months of one badass poetry clinic. (I mean that in a good way.) The night bore witness to free-flowing poetry, applause, Kodak moments, and of course, booze.

To say that I heaved a sigh of relief after the event would be an understatement; sigh is too small a word. Its Tagalog counterpart, buntong-hininga is more apt — a microcosm of rising expectations, of a build-up toward the climax, of keeping your breath in, then suddenly, a release.

Enough words. Enjoy these pictures of the LIRA Fellows’ Night 2007, courtesy of Fellows JC Sola and Karla Cachola, and the person most-referenced to in my blogs (hehe), Ia. It goes without saying: click to enlarge.

From left to right: Ia, batch president Pau Hernando, Christine Magpile practicing on the piano, and yours truly testing the mic. (And posing for a photo op as well.)

Conspiracy Bar’s hallowed stage, ready for another night of verses.

JC, Pau, and I preparing for the program. The small, in-your-face stage helped ease some of the jitters.
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The journey that began half a year ago is ending on a night of metaphors and imagery.

Awww.

To translate the original invitation in Tagalog:

The members and this year’s fellows of the Linangan sa Imahen, Retorika at Anyo (LIRA) invite everyone to the celebration of its 22nd anniversary on December 11, 2007 in Conspiracy Bar, Visayas Avenue, Quezon City. LIRA is an organization of poets fervent in writing in the Filipino language.

The celebration will feature the launch of the SIDHAY literary folio of the LIRA Fellows Batch 2007. This collection includes several of the poems written by each Fellow after the lectures and workshops which started last June 2006. Let yourself be swept away by the verses of: Christa De La Cruz, Guia De Leon, Rogerick Fontanilla Fernandez, Pau Hernando, Kel Juan, Phillip Kimpo Jr., Christine Magpile, Alev Maniago, John Montoya, Por Requinto, and JC Sola.

A preview of the folio:

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Update 11/17/07: Airing will be on November 18 at 7 P.M.

Update: The airing has been postponed to November 18. And even that date is tentative. Sorry for this belated notice; their own notice to me was also belated.

If you have the time, catch me later on At Your Pleasure, Nancy hosted by Nancy Castiglione, airing at around 2-3 pm (basta hapon daw e) on the new Makisig Network (channel 76/82 at SkyCable/ HomeCable, ch. 84 if you have an analog box installed).

I think the weird lighting wreaked havoc on our faces. The two sides of my face don’t match. Heh.

The episode is about toys, and I will be sharing my experiences in amassing airplane collector’s models. It will mark the first time in over a decade that I’ll appear on TV. (For some reason, I don’t miss those days as a ‘budding child actor’. I guess I prefer staying at home and writing/reading books/playing video games. And blogging.)

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Some tidbits from the episode’s taping, which was held last October 30 (a few days after our Youthlinks radio guesting):
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Earlier this day, I got the chance to guest in a radio show along with two of my LIRA co-fellows, Pau Hernando and Guia de Leon. Nothing grand an event — there are thousands of people hosting a radio show around the globe at this very second, for example — but still a notable experience. Well, every first-time experience should be.

We came into the PIA Building expecting to zip in for around 15 minutes, promote our upcoming LIRA Fellows’ Night (more on that later), rattle off a few poems, and zip out. Instead, we found ourselves being the ‘main guests’ (is there such a term?) for today’s Youthlinks program at DZSR (918 Khz; the online streaming version can be found here). We stayed for the show’s full hour-long duration.

We felt at ease with the show’s great staff, which includes co-hosts Allan Elman, Rommel Brillantes, and Jacky Chan (yes that’s his first name; I failed to catch his surname). After talking a bit about our personal backgrounds, the LIRA fellowship process, and workshop details, each of us three was given the time to read two poems. I chose two “battle tested” (pinalihan, or dumaan sa palihan in LIRA-speak) works, namely Talà (”Star”) and Fast Food.

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(For S.)

Countless are the women likened to the stars. Stars who are adored, stars who tingle and tickle the being, stars who are courted, stars who become lovers and better halves. Ah, such bitter pairings! A beautiful star is aloof, without a care in the world, isolated by a dark vastness oft-minisculed as a greatest ocean to cross or a highest mountain to climb, and if and when I conquer the cold void between me and the star after a journey that took forever, I will just be swiftly and mercilessly consumed by the blinding and unsurpassed heat of her fire without her even blinking. In the company of a star, two indeed become one and only one.

You, you are not a woman comparable nor should be compared to a star. You are dust, as I am who came from dust and will return to dust. You and I are mere specks in the cosmos, but in our world that is only ours, we are valuable and are valued the same. There is no darkness nor oceans nor mountains in between us. Together, we are free to tumble in the grass, to slide down the waterfall, to dance to the tune of the wind. Together, we are two yet we are one.

But you are dust unlike I, dust of the earth. You — and you might not realize this — you are dust of the stars. I know this because when we are together, you make our surroundings scintillate like a firefly does in a moonless night, and a ring of gentle fire — fire that does not consume life but nurtures it — caresses and embraces our joined bodies.


Happy 22nd birthday, Ia! More October 24 goodness at last year’s She, I. This prose poem was translated from the original in Tagalog.

A few weeks ago, a dog by the name of Randolph Manhattan sent me an email offering condolences for Fischer’s loss and sharing the new book from Random House, A Dog About Town.

Randolph is the star of the said book, which is written from the poetry-loving Labrador’s perspective. If that isn’t an inimitable premise for a novel, then I don’t know what is!

A few days ago, I picked up the book at the post office; Randolph and J.F. Englert had so kindly sent me an autographed copy from New York (thank you, dear sirs!). This blog’s readers know that I have tons of titles in my read-to pile (Exhibit A, Exhibit B), but this book is on top right now, period. (Yes, the First In First Out principle doesn’t apply to my books.) A Dog About Town has certainly piqued my interest, and it’s not just because I’m a dog lover.

I’ll write a more detailed post (a book review, even) after I’ve finished reading this book. For now, suffice it to say that I’m already recommending this title this early! (I do hope Philippine bookstores already have Randolph’s pipe-puffing pose on their shelves!)

Drum roll please…presenting Karimlan, my new blog where I finally let loose some crisp curses in Tagalog.

I’ve got one admission to make: I’ve been losing the urge to write in English these past months. Even my choice of books has slowly been tilting to Tagalog. Credit that to LIRA; aside from getting invaluable workshop lessons and appreciation for the native language, there I met a couple of minds attuned with mine, and to cut a long story short, the new friendships formed have led to what could become a major development in my life as a Filipino writer in Filipino. (This post’s postscript adds a bit more intrigue to it.)

Given all that has happened, I saw it a travesty that I wasn’t keeping a Tagalog blog. Right now, my Karimlan posts are more diary- and rant-ish types than serious works, but as time flies, poems and stories will find their way in.

(FYI: You’d be surprised to see how frequently I’ve been updating Karimlan. Even I am. Poor Slip of the Pen.)

That said, I won’t be abandoning this blog, much more writing in English. Sooner or later, my muse will swing back to Anglosphere-speak, and Karimlan will be the one with a dearth of posts. I’m betting that I’ll be long-suffering from a struggle between the foreign tongue and the tongue in which I dream.

Okey, tama na ang dada.

Pasinayaan ang Karimlan!

P.S. To get the best of both worlds the hassle-free way, you can subscribe to the Karimlan blog feed and this blog’s feed. Saves time.