LA DOLCE VITA

film diaries, in my life

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“To see if the dreams dissolve when you become one of the characters, once you’re not just passing through.” -Kylie Flavell

Lately, I’ve been engrossed in watching travel vlogs, videos, or documentaries (if we are to formally call it). For someone who is quite short in budget, this is the cheapest form of escape — through the eyes and stories of other people.

More than ever I find myself wanting to leave. To live in another place aside from this hometown. Maybe it’s the summer heat. Maybe it’s the routinary days. Maybe it’s the lack of space. Home became too familiar, until it doesn’t feel like home anymore. I often find myself homesick for a place I have yet to call home.

It makes me question myself: Am I simply envious? Am I not content? How do I make the most out of what’s been given to me? Will I get to leave? Or do I only stay? Who knows, who knows, only time can tell. I have to keep on reminding myself that life is as sweet as we make it to be. I am teaching myself to be present, to appreciate the here and now.

Maybe it’s just another round of positive thinking, but whatever works to get me out of this longing can do me good. For now, we are here. The places won’t be going anywhere, we are. We’ll get there someday.

I wrote this over a year ago, in a journal I entitled named “Mine, For Now” (until my heart is ready to share them with any one, any soul). This was the first narrative that leapt from those pages to the screen.

The questions remain, maybe they will leave on the same day that I do.

 

ADJOURN 2017

in my life

It’s already February. But it has become a habit to write a note of goodbye to the year that was in this little space of mine. I know that a lot of people have posted welcome entries, but one of the things that 2017 taught me is that I can go by my own pace. There are races to run, but maybe blogging or writing aren’t things meant to be rushed.

I went through journals, instagram posts, prayers, highs and lows, just to fully digest how 2017 was for me. I did not try instagram’s best nine though, I know that it will just show my most liked art journal entries but not really the significant events that happened. So if I were to truly choose nine posts, this would be it.

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I. “Your art will continue to bring praises to the Lord. Always use it for His glory!” ❤
Art is a two-way street. We write, paint, or perform to express ourselves but not for our own glory, but for His; to the Creator himself. Just like what Ms. Carla said yesterday, “Kahit isa lang magbasa. Okay lang kahit si Jesus lang ang magbasa.” I’ve learned over the years that the praises people say is just an added bonus. But that doesn’t mean we appreciate it any less. Art is a two-way street. Sometimes you inspire people create, sometimes the people inspire you to keep on creating. We keep each other afloat in a sea of doubts. Art is a two-way street. May this way leads us closer and closer to him.

II. For the waves. “Ready. Stronger leg. Push up. Stand. And then, balance!” Five simple words that were supposed to get me through this lesson. But 15 minutes after and all I can think of was the lyrics to the songs we sing, the words of poetry etched in our hearts, and the metaphors that symbolizes the waves. What they contain were all true. Sinking Deep, In Over My Head, Oceans. You never realize its depth until you experience it in your life. Drowning, breathing, the waves hitting you over and over again just like the pain or the memories that were too much for you to contain. Because they say saltwater can be a cure, you brace yourself for each impact. Only to realize that you’re not ready for it yet. For now, I find my comfort on the shore. But I shall learn to swim, then face the waves once again. Ready. Stronger leg (and heart). Push up. Stand. And then balance.

III. For the companions. There were no grand gestures. There were a loooot of time to sleep and short instagram breaks. But deep friendship seeped in through the laughter despite the ache, the vulnerability of conversations when you share both your hopes and fears. These were the simple things that matter in the end. I took this photo before we left and thought that the truest of true friends can be a lighthouse and map to you. Someone who will make sure that you do not get lost in wandering through the sea, someone who sheds light in your darkest nights, someone who helps you in finding the right direction and way through life.

IV.  For the place. We stayed for three days, but it felt like we were there for a week. Time works differently here. There’s no rush. No wonder why people have chosen to live here. We have found ourselves a healing place. A home away from home. And this is a promise as well for the genuine connections we call friends: I will always be your stego.

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V.  There’s a rush contained in the words “move on”. It’s like, scoot over. Quickly. Quickly you must do it. I like what my friend told me, and there were a lot of times that I keep on repeating these words: BE BETTER. BE BETTER. It’s another story. It’s like: feel the pain. Befriend it. Know it. And then take a step. No matter how small it is.

VI.  Dear February, we are always three days short (oh, except on leap years). There were still days when I feel listless or without the desire to get up from bed (umm…just like today because mah fave month is ending). But thank you for letting me bank a lot of good days. I hate to turn the calendar over, but we must keep moving. Three days short but He has given me more than I expect for. Two places that I can call home. And safe places that I could turn too. May we stay filled up for the remaining days.

 

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VII.  Runner. Conquered 16K last week, but I don’t know if I fit into that category. Maybe not just yet. My friend was wondering, and I asked the same question to myself, why am I running? Why am I joining these races? I’m nowhere near being a sporty girl. I disliked P.E. until college. It takes more than 100% willpower to workout and exercise. Physical activities aren’t my cup of tea. There goes reason number one: running makes me conquer myself. I am learning not to mind the pace of other people and be more focused on improving my own. One step at a time.

VIII. Self-love. There are times when you have to choose yourself, not out of selfishness but out of wanting to become a better person. Self-love can be self-care — giving yourself enough space to grow and breathe, or just be.

IX. The caption was supposed to be about walking on water…but my lungs are thankful that it can breathe a little better now. As the song goes…not swallowed in the sea.

I spilled so much of my thoughts in my captions during the first half of 2017. It was my way of coping with the pain I’ve felt during that time. There were a lot of messy times, but redemption came through. In this process, I have learned to love myself — not the selfish kind, but in a healthy way. His constant presence allowed me to heal.

Every time I look back at the start of the 2017, it feels like it happened a long time ago. The months seem to have stretched so far from one another. There were countless transitions, changes, and shared moments with people who are close to me. This year meant so much more than what I can put into words.

Behind the artworks were struggles with pain, doubt, anger, bitterness, and envy. The people who held me when I can’t barely put my own pieces back together know the true battles I’ve put up with (and for that I am eternally grateful for them). A lot of baggage were shed and I have learned to finally let go. Forgiveness, clarity, peace, and joy came. I jumped from one season to the next. No, it wasn’t easy. Yes, I was scared. But sometimes freedom comes when you give yourself the permission to leave.

Right now I’m glad that this year taught me how to be alone without being lonely. This was the year I came in broken, but I’m coming out whole. Scarred, but whole.

MOTHERHOOD MUSINGS, ETC.

in my life

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I was a substitute parent to my little brother for the past five days. Nanay was away on a planned trip, so I instantly became the mother-in-charge.  And I’d be lying if I told you that it wasn’t a challenge. Oftentimes I caught myself thinking, I’m never gonna be a parent. I’m not gonna be a parent anytime soon. How did Nanay manage to raise big brother and I while working? I can only fathom the horror of our teenage years.

There are a lot of moments when I hesitate to talk about family matters on social media or any other platform for that matter. You see, we’re not exactly the ideal type that you want to read or know about. We’re made up of too many cracks, and there are some parts of our lives that are yet to be rebuilt. We’ve seen a lot of walls crumble down over the years. Healing from the aftermath can take some time.  But the previous days brought in a different experience, so I took down notes. I’d like to look back someday and see how far we’ve actually come.

I became more grateful to Nanay, for all her efforts and sacrifices to raise us. I used to wonder why she would often exclaim that she doesn’t have enough time to do all the things she need or want to do. As I stepped into her shoes, I realized why. Waking up at 5:00 A.M to heat water, prepare food, and set clothes for another person; attending to the needs of my little brother before attending to her own needs. After that ordeal is over, she then prepares herself at work, bracing herself for a long day ahead as the bread winner of the family. You don’t get to fully understand these things until you do it yourself. I go about her routine, mumbling thank you with each step. There’s nothing simple about taking care of another human being. Motherhood is a selfless act through and through.

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To be a more patient and loving sister also became a goal. There are moments when I think that I got this sibling relationship all together, and then suddenly my little brother would test my limits. I found myself wanting to have a guide books for this. I wonder why aren’t there any books on how to become a better sister? I mean there is a lot of stuff out there about parenting; don’t you think being a sibling needs one too? (All the struggling sisters and brothers, maybe we should write one?) Or is there some secret club that I have yet to know about? Please tell me. Your healthy disciplinarian tips would be greatly appreciated. Being a by-the-book-person can be such a disadvantage sometimes. I guess we just learn on the go.  This relationship is teaching me to extend my patience. It’s reminding me how it is to be a child, and how adults can complicate simple things. How can I contribute or make a better home for him? Each of us plays a role in his growth. Each word can have a huge impact in the years to come. Every day is an act of prayer for wisdom and love to overflow. These thoughts quickly change my perspective when I’m at wits end.

We welcomed Nanay home yesterday, and I couldn’t help but express how grateful I am for her (plus acknowledging that’s its difficult to be a mother). In the end, I also became more appreciative for the season of singleness. As the famous saying goes, I am at the point of my life wherein I am happy to be single (and really mean it). Thank God for seasons that we can savor before we jump off into the unknown world of married life or parenthood. There’s no need to rush from one phase to another, because we’re meant to dive deep and learn from it instead. It’s like swimming through an ocean of preparation before we set off to another shore.



P.S. Here are some podcasts that helped me through some family stuff. They also shed a light on some of the things I’m going through (whether good or bad): Becoming Sons & and Daughters, Family Dynamics with Hayden Langemeier

TINY STORY NO.4: CLOSING THE CHAPTER

film diaries, tiny stories

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Buildings just became buildings; some people will remain as close friends and not just mere colleagues, and everything else I have laid to rest. It’s funny how four years of life can go by just like that. I’m taking with me the happy moments and great learnings (that came out both from good and bad experiences), but aside from that there would be no further attachments. I told myself that this is a place where people come and go. I talked to a friend who has also just resigned from her work as well, who stayed for the same length of time as I did, and we came up with the conclusion that we did what we can, we gave our best, but this is it.

It was once a blessing. It wasn’t out of whim that I submitted my letter. There are paths that took a different turn, the walls started to seem like they’re caving down on me. That was the signal for me that it’s time to go. I appreciate the people who made it seem like I am celebrating another round of my birthday before I left. My last week was full of gifts and heartwarming support from the people I’ve grown close with.

I thought that there would be a lot of words left to say. It has been a habit of mine to write about things or events as they come to an end, as if each letter I pen down is the last act of closing doors, or ending chapters in my life. But surprisingly, this is all I have. Goodbye. I’ll see you around.

OLD HEART

film diaries

Old heart,
are your eyes still clear enough
to see the beauty
beyond those wrinkled lines?

Old heart,
your limbs have weaken,
your bones can be easily broken,
but do you still dream of running after her?

Old heart,
how do you mourn for lost love?
Does it bring you tears at night
knowing that there wouldn’t be anyone
next to you when morning comes?

Do you still reach out in the darkness,
hoping that there would be a hand
to meet your touch?

Does it fill you with longing
for companionship that is
no longer there,
when you look across the table?

Old heart,
   how painful it is for you
to wait for the time,
   when your two old hearts
will be united once again.
— September 2014


When I see old people eating alone, there’s a tiny ache in my heart that I couldn’t place and this is my feeble attempt of expressing it. Along with more underexposed photos from my second film roll. Bikes with baskets fascinate me (it’s in my bucket list to own one); along with the carousel it reminds me of childhood memories.  Youth and age blends here.