like ink stains

a particular fantasy

This is the side that faces visitors to my home. On the other side there are more shelves filled with books. On the other side is my sleeping corner. The postcards on display are from the Griffin and Sabine postcard collection that I bought way back in the 1990s. It's a pity to keep them hidden in a box so I put them up. They also inspire me in my art-making.

For almost two weeks now I have been beset by one particular fantasy. If you have been reading this blog for a while you will know that I have been on a very strict budget because of my adamant pursuit of happiness and satisfaction in my work. Unfortunately such kind of work does not always come hand-in-hand with a satisfactory amount of money. Maybe it will, at some point, but right now they do not share the same sphere in my life. Hence, I cannot indulge in my usual book-shopping.

I have re-learned to live without a lot of things since I simplified my lifestyle to afford my journey of true paths. I have whittled down my wants and needs to the essentials, and one of those is books.

I could easily find torrents of e-books online but I find that nothing fulfills me as much as a bound volume of paper in my hands, with the scent of ink lingering on my fingertips.

For the past two weeks, especially since I finished writing my novel and while I am currently editing it, my hunger for books to read has been sharper than ever. It is like the writing had consumed so much "word energy" that I desperately need to replenish it. I crave for more stories, I yearn to meet more heroines and the men who torment their hearts, I long for the fairy tale endings that are such a comfort after hundreds of pages of almost losing hope that things will turn out well.

I have this particular fantasy of dressing up. I would be wearing a favorite long skirt, a perfectly complementing top, a pair of comfortable shoes that add twist to the whole ensemble. My hair would be behaving perfectly, cascading in soft waves down my back. I would be wearing my favorite spider turquoise bracelets layered with my pair of bracelets from India (for luck). Maybe my butterfly earrings. Or the tea and cupcake pair. My bag slung over my shoulder carrying my simple survival kit that includes a journal notebook and an inked fountain pen.

I enter the bookstore, slowing down at the entrance enough to take a deep breath like what I usually do when I enter libraries. My eyes scan the New Arrivals, the Special Discounts, the Bestsellers. But I know what I want. I weave through the many shelves to find the sections where countless joys await me. The classics, poetry, fantasy, contemporary fiction, literary fiction. I am drawn to stories with magic. Once in a while I would venture into food and travel. But I linger longest in fantasy, crashing through age lines, picking from children's as well as from young adults's. But how I wish for adult fantasy that retains the sweetness and wonder and magic of the young adults's. (Maybe that is why I am attempting to write one now.)

I run my fingers across the clean straight spines. I delight in feeling the embossed letters and images beneath my fingertips, like tracing a tattoo on someone's skin. I like the books with unevenly cut pages. I risk paper cuts on my own skin by sliding my thumb down the rough thick press of pages.

I pull a book out and open it randomly. I caress the paper, then slowly bring it up to my face so I could steal a breath of ink and pulp. My eyes play on the fonts. I like fonts that are well-spaced, not too cramped, and not too default. I like books that have been printed with care and consideration. Good paper, just the right thickness and weight and with that charming aged tinge. There are types of paper that you just know will age so beautifully. I check the solidity of the spine. Few things are more disappointing than a new book that falls apart, especially in your hands, while you're still reading it. It should be able to stand the abuse of being rolled over in bed, stuffed beneath the pillows, or slept over for hours in awkward positions.

I have a growing pile of chosen volumes beside me, as I sit on the floor, between rows and rows of books waiting for consideration. My long skirt is like a sacred circle marking my space in front of a shelf. Other people walk around me, dare not to disturb me.

I have lost track of time. Time is of no consequence. I am immersed in silent conversations, weighing promises and judging covers. My heart beats fast. It is in a constant state of agitation, of anticipation, of expectation. My fingertips are cold. They tremble with excitement at the thought of plunging into all those worlds. Of repeating the same journeys but always living through each one as if it were the first time. Of meeting every possible version of the same man who will break my heart just as he would break the heroine's heart. Of suspending my belief long enough to take me through the breathtaking climax of a happily ever after.

I expel a deep sigh that carried within its weight the litany of prayers that continue to prove my faith in fairy tales. I take my pile of books, my pile of dreams, to the counter. I become thousands of pesos poorer, possibly sacrificing the week's groceries and I would have to survive on crackers and jam on some days. But in exchange I gain days of sanity and hope as I balance along the edge of a long leap into the void.

One day, fueled and inspired by all those stories, I will finish editing my novel. I say by early next year. One day, I will be brave enough again to make one story that I will do instead of reading or writing it.

thursday thoughts

Lately I've been rained on by various posts and quotes about weeding out people in your life who only bring in negativity and who discourage you from a path of love and growth. It's like a beacon flashing insistently, calling my attention. I have done something like this before and I realized that it is not a one-time thing because as you yourself grow and evolve, your own needs and contributions to a friendship also change. The ideal is to have friends who grow with you no matter what. But sadly, very, very few pass the test of dealing with both failure and success in one's life. There are people who are only your friends when you are successful, and there are those who prefer that you are forever failing so they can feel better about themselves.

As an adult, finding and cultivating friendships is not as easy as when I was in my twenties and just starting out from college. Especially now that I have become clearer about the kind of life that I wish to live and how I want to grow, it has also become clearer that some people in my life are detrimental to that dream life either by bringing in negative energies or withholding support. But at the same time, in unexpected ways and along unexpected paths and places, I discover other people whose spirits and hearts are attuned with mine. They reach out from the clouds of my uncertain friendships and lay a reassuring hand on my heart. They send surprise notes and comments of encouragement and appreciation. The best are those who express that I have somehow helped them with the little that I have shared, that they find inspiration in what I have shown.

It is not a bad thing to remove people from your life who are no longer in harmony with it. The same way that I will not take it badly if I am let go of, just as I have been by some people that I only realized in the past few weeks. My response is to return the favor of setting them free. We have served each other's purpose in each other's life, now it is time to move on.

We will always be drawn to kindred spirits, even if it takes time as the universe sorts out the glitches and the obstacles and sets up the stage for serendipitous encounters. It could be triggered by a single note of gratitude, a simple expression of appreciation, or a single thoughtful message sent on impulse. You will know, your heart will know, by the feeling of warmth and joy that will spread from the core of your being. You will feel yourself smiling. You will feel your day brightening.

I believe that we will find truer friends when we also become true to ourselves. First we are a true friend to ourselves and then we draw others. In the past couple of years I have recognized those who have always seen me for who and what I am even when I myself was blind to my own self. They are still with me, their soul-strings attached to mine, spanning time and distances and life-milestones. They are few, but they are precious. And now that I am more attuned to my own self I am even more fierce in my love and appreciation for these people. They never let go, they never turned away, they never closed themselves. I am only too eager to prove worthy of such friendships, to nurture, to share.

There are many, many ways to be a true friend. It does not always lie in doing the same thing over and over again until the thing loses its meaning but you keep doing it anyway and then you are no longer sure why it always has to be that way. It is not just about sending birthday gifts without fail. It's not just about sharing the same interests, or the same club, or the same schedules. For me, based on my experiences, a true friend, a kindred spirit, shows up at the perfect moment even when you don't realize you are needing it at that very moment. And then you do realize you were needing it and it was... perfect. It's the little gestures more than the grand ones that make the difference most of the time. The recognition and support of what you value most. The sharing and openness because you both want to give each other the best possible chance on anything in life. The quiet cheering that you can feel and hear from the heart. The fact that you don't see each other much but when you do it's like you pick up where you left off in a way that is not stuck or stagnant, but in a way that you have both grown and yet you still fit together. That is such beautiful assurance, that is like coming home and finding new lovely things. There are upward or deeper movements, not vicious circles. The felt mutual-ness of everything, that certainty that what you have is two sides of one coin, not a one-sided, lopsided kind of thing where you hit blank walls and locked doors and you wonder why you have soul bruises. It takes two to tango and all that jazz.

For all my old true friends, thank you for being constant stars in my oft-dark-and-stormy life.

For all my new true friends, let us make more inspiring stories of growth and support and love.

snail mail project

This is a personal project that is connected to a number of other things that I want to enrich in my life.

First is the nurturing of important relationships and strengthening my personal community of family and friends. There are few things so heart-warming as a well-thought out letter, written by hand, on hand-designed paper and envelope (or perhaps on well-chosen stationery paper) sent and received. The very act itself of letter writing already presupposes time and effort (and money for mailing) taken and spent. We have grown so used to picking the most convenient path (hasty emails, text messages, and worst of all, written text speak) that we have also given up a lot of the meanings and values embedded in things and activities done by hand.

Second is the relearning of those meanings and values. The virtue of patience practiced when waiting for a reply. The careful thought put into the composition of the letter, from the very basics of grammar to proper self-expression and articulation of the message. The recognition of who you actually care enough for to take the time, effort, and money to write to. The value of simply slowing down and making time.

Third is the perfect excuse to make more art. Not to waste all those pretty pens and inks and papers. Also a perfect means to let my art travel to places and be alive and have purpose.

Here are some envelopes I have made to contain unsent letters to former objects of my affection, as well as a repository of old journal entries and old printed emails kept as souvenirs of old almost-love-stories.

Is there still room for old-fashioned mail in your life?

2011: the Year of Return, a summary

For the past four years I have been "picking up" certain themes and energies from each year as it begins. It started with 2008 which was the Year of Shifting. 2009 was the Year of Resolution (especially after the mostly unexpected shifts of the previous year). 2010 was the Year of Harvest (as a result of decisions made from the previous). This year, 2011, is the Year of Return.

The Year of Return is about taking stock of where life is for you right now, the things that you have done, and where you want to go next. It is about acknowledging your own histories, especially the realities and lessons they have brought into your life. If there is anything you have refused to accept or recognize for all this time, then now is a good chance to make peace with everything and everyone, including yourself. It is also a time to forgive, again including yourself.

The Return can take many forms, from the most simple and mundane to the most surprising and spectacular. I have seen it manifested among family and friends -- husbands returning to wives they have left for so many years, families renewing bonds, younger generations finally looking back and recognizing the wisdom of the older. It could be as symbolic as returning to one's roots -- digging through histories and stories to find the seeds that feed who you are and who you have been, who you will be. It could be simple acts of revisiting places, getting in touch with old friends, even opening one's souvenir box and remembering what you used to love and what used to make you happy.

But the Return does not stop at the mere remembrance. It also demands recognition, acceptance, and integration into the Now. For to move forward you have to be whole, and to be whole you have to bring within you both your light and your shadow.

For my part, here is how the Year of Return has shaken my life (there will be separate posts for each so do visit again as the links become activated):

• Rediscovering and Re-embracing my Passions

• Finding my way back to Family and Re-evaluating my Friendships

• Reuniting with my Shadow Self

• Going back to the Simple Life and rediscovering Simple Joys

• Becoming Single again and Re-evaluating my Needs and Priorities

• Strengthening bonds with Mother Earth, return to Basics

With all of these "returns" I feel like I have gone through a major Soul Scrub that peeled away all that is unnecessary and unhelpful for me. While it remains that I want so many things to do and and to have, what changed is the nature of those things that I want to do and to have. They have better foundations now and hopefully also stronger cores that will help me barrel through challenges.

The returns have also helped me lessen my blind spots as I move forward. I will make decisions based on the right reasons and not because of pettiness or a tantrum or even vengefulness. I also choose to be happy, given all the realities of what I have been. where I have been, and the things that I have done. If there will be times when I need to walk through a shadowed path then I aim to be able to do so with grace and patience and optimism. The new year will not always be easy, but I intend to face every single day with hope and faith.

How has 2011 manifested for you?