To My Only and Ever Loving Sister, the Best One No One Else Can Ever Have

You want a Chii cosplayer?

*Note: the girls in the pictures are not pictures of my sister, good grief. She's much younger and prettier. And today is March 6! Man, this blog clock ain't accurate...*

Dear Ruth, my little fashionista sister,

Before I start saying what I should say today, why don’t I tell you some pretty short tales?

This passed Sunday I went to the cosplay convention. Yup, lots of funny stuff there. Then I saw your two fave characters: Chii and Freya. I remembered you and how you liked Chobits and all (despite the fact you know it’s disturbing). So I took my humble cellphone and pictured those two cosplayers. Enjoy. Sigh, I should’ve gotten a real camera instead noh?

Then this passed Tuesday, after my violin lesson, I decided to play the Happy “Birthday” tune on my violin Mariea (who as you know is named after you). I practiced for some time and recorded. I made 6 attempts lasting from 1 minute to 5 minutes. But the audio recording gizmo in my laptop is just terrible. Plus my later attempts had a lot of wrong notes.

So I decided to try and draw a portrait of you. Yup, I really did. I guess I figured now was the right time. I even prayed before I took the pix of you available and doodled. But I didn’t get it right! Manang Salve said it was nice (guessed it was you pero mukhang nahalata niya yan ang gusto kong marinig. So not counted), but Lola couldn’t say much. She said it was beautiful but that’s all. She said she had poor eyesight so she couldn’t tell. Well, I assumed anyway that meant my portrait wasn’t very good so I tried to draw another one, a different pose. But I found it very unsatisfying and it’s soooo not you. I then reworked on the previous one and asked the advice of Manang Salve on how to fix it (tangosin ko daw ang ilong). I then went to see what Lolo would say. Said it was young and beautiful. When I said that’s what I would give you, he got the idea it was supposed to be you and replied frankly, “Hindi yan si Ruth. Ang layo…” Embarrassed I just pretended and replied “Alam ko, alam ko…” with a dweebish smile while tossing my spinning HB pencil in the air. Before I left, I caught the words “Ang pangit nun.” Ouch…really ouch…traumatized. So I decided to draw yet another one same pose as the ugly one. Prayed again. Result? It was better but it still was so terrible. So unsatisfied and stuff, I just closed my eyes and just had my emo moments…

Then Wednesday. I did the same thing. A different pose this time. Prayed even more earnestly. Can you guess the result? Terrible. Just terrible. I think I was going somewhere actually but it was just so disappointing that I tore the darn thing to pieces. And then to pieces again. Frustrated? Yes. Pissed? Yes. Felt abandoned? Oh, yes.

How about a Freya?

Today, this Thursday, I thought for almost the whole day, exactly what I’d give you. Music was just not good. Portrait went from worse to bad (but still terrible). I thought of drawing you a Card Captor Sakura thing with you as Sakura, the angel and saint, with me as Touya in the background with the usual horns and fork. After all I do tease you about…well…hahahaha. But nah, little Ms. Sakura and her gang are too old don’t you think? So I decided to draw a portrait, not of you, but the Chii cosplayer. I said you might like it since this time, the style would be realistic. Soon I thwarted it a bit to make the Chii a bit cuter. Prayed but I just said pessimistically “Bahala ka na, God…” Result? It was fine, very satisfactory. But the ears were a bother. It would’ve been better to remove them. But then why did I do it in the first place then? Bah…

So there. (About my prayers, well, I know God is good. However, one can’t help but feel He’s abandoned us or something…God respects that feeling…) I can’t give you anything. Alam mo naman mahirap ang buhay. Kaya di ako pwedeng bumili ng regalo. Plus I don’t know what you really want. My poetry? They’re being couch potatoes. Right now, they’re asleep, after all it’s quite late. I can just give you this blog post. Really sorry, hija…I really tried…seriously…oh wait…

Madam Ruth’s Birthday

I guess I don’t have much to say

I’ve failed in every time, every way

But the thing is this, how I wish you, Miss

A very good, very wonderful birthday

My amateur music hit the wrong notes

And all my portraits were wrong, those accursed strokes

My writing’s what I’ve left, don’t ask me for theft

For my wallet, my money; I’m broke…

I can just ask God to lovingly whisper or coo

In your ear, when you sleep through and through

And that love will find air, or you’ll find your joy somewhere

And heal whatever’s plaguing you

Big brother did what he could and should

But I guess Lord wants not for whatever’s His good

Say love to your friends, bet their stories don’t end

As adventurous as the tales of Robin Hood

And now let’s all sing, dance and woo

For things have passed, and now you’re all new

You ready to face? “Pagdadalaga” in place

When I say happy birthday to you?

Hahaha…

Oh I guess my poetry’s senses are still good though more frank and less wordy. Hahahahahahaha…Happy Birthday! ^-^

From

Leon, your melancholic brother

KAINIS, ang dami kong gagawin!

As I write this down, I’m at CSB the 11^th floor at a computer room. Hopefully, you guys enjoyed all the posts so far. ^_^ Anwyay, let me just express my probs: kainis! Ang dami kong gagawin…may script pa akong gagawin para sa PhiliEn, interview project tungkol sa mga lesbians at gays (Ah crap! Where can I find some? I don’t know much who’s gay or not! AACK!), report na dapat ko nang handaan(the day of reporting is near! AAAAck!) gagawa ako ng theological paper tungkol sa homosexuality (coincidence? Who knows?! And who cares! I was so freakin’ busy, I forgot I have to make this! To make matters worse, it’s not going to be my credit but my aunt’s! AAAACK!), stressed and depressed na naman ako (THE HELL?! Again?!), and I have to do a little secret project (it’ll spoil the surprise) and I have no idea on how to make it yet ‘coz I’m still at the conceptualizing (AAAACKK!). Man, I want to draw! Write! Play the piano and violin (make it sound like a distorted guitar)! But I freakin’ can’t! ‘Coz I’ve got responsiblities! Damn it! And in the first place, they shouldn’t have been mine! AAAcck.. Let me define responsibility, you hate it, you don’t like but you have it, so deal with it! AAAaccck, ang buhay naman talaga oo…2 o’ clock na! Mag-klaklase pa ako sa IntEcom! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaacck…

You see them? Recognize them? Yup, girls and guys cosplaying the S.O.S. Brigade from The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya. I’d love to write of my first time at the cosplay convention down but I’VE GOT WORK TO DO! AAACCCK! DAMN IT!

The Security Guard

“Pak it up, dude! Pak it up!”—Mark Primavera

“…and listen to others, even the dull and ignorant; they too have their stories.”

—Anonymous, Desiderata

I ended it abruptly ‘coz the continuation would be this. Baka napagod na kayo no? Wala eh. These events are very strange and interesting. I mean I think they deserve to be recorded. But here’s one relief for you guys: this post’s going to be pretty short. Yes, breathe easy now. Well I think it’ll be short…

I came back after one hour. My ComSkX was done and I decided to take one last round around the exhibit (for it was only from Feb 16-21). I was able to buy some 5 posters (3 for me and 2 for my mother.) while they were packing it up. Salamat, right on time ako. Any minute longer and posters would’ve gone. Some of the sekyus there told me na “Sayang, di mo siya naabutan para ma-autograph mo yun.” “Neh, ayus lang, naabutan ko naman siya sa conference.” I replied. This might sound cold but I wasn’t really concerned about the artist; I barely knew the guy! I just knew him though his paintings and just this week. I don’t see the logic to just get some unknown guy’s autograph, no matter how recognized he is. Plus I was more concerned on what he said and did. I’m more focused on his Christ and words then the artist himself. (I’d rather look at the pointed than the pointer. That’s why even if I met an idol Bo Sanchez, I wouldn’t get his autograph. Not even if it’s John the Baptist! )

Anyway, I was going to scrutinize each one, their technique, colors, textures. Yes, that was supposed to have been my plan but something unexpected just happened…

“Wat do yu tink of dat pichure?” I was scanning the gloom of “No Greater Love” when this question popped up. I looked to one side to see one of the sekyus there. At first, I thought he was talking to someone else or he was just talking aloud. But from his face, I knew I was the victim. I sheepishly smiled and asked “Sorry, what?”

“Wat do yu tink of dat pichure?” he asked again.

“I—I think it’s beautiful, wonderful, reflective…about Christ…” I was really wondering what was up with that question. Soon he walked toward me and gazed at the painting like an art critic. Then he began to share his views on the painting. About its beauty, about its gloom, about the reality of poverty…Interesting. At first I thought it would be a quick exchange of words here and there but then I found out that he had a lot to say…

“Hir! Hir. Hir is my favoreet.” He said leading me to the painting where Jesus was praying with the Philippine flag hanging on his hands. Compared to most of the works, this looked smoother in texture, like you could wipe your hand over it.

“Dis shows nationality. I layk it becos it shows dat Christ loves also de Philippines…”

He then began to talk about it but then he shifted to our current dilemmas with the Philippine poverty, our ever corrupted and idiotic government officials, that if the leader was good we’d all have a swell time and history of the Hispanic era. It was clear he despised the Spanish era saying it was they who influenced us with the vices we have now. For me, he was correct. Some not but mostly yes, it was the damn Spaniards. He even wanted me to recall my high school learning of Dr. Jose Rizal’s Noli Me Tangere and El Filibusterismo, about Crisostomo Ibarra and, later, his other identity Simoun Vela, the main characters of both novels. About virtue crashing into vengeance and then death, implying Filipinos weren’t ready for a revolution. Well anyway, I can’t recall all that we talked about. The point was he had a lot to say.

As he talked I began to take notice of his features: he looked like a soldier with an army cut. He was long, not so thin but definitely no fat, like a soldier nga. Almost like one of my dad’s friends. He wore a light-colored polo and slacks. I noticed that he liked talking about Christ, had lots of opinions and strong feelings about suffering, and wanted to talk to me in English, although during my first few words implied that I wanted to speak in Filipino. Gusto ko po mag-Tagalog! Para akong traydor kung Inggles lang ako ng Inggles kainis! Pero wala akong magawa. Sanay na ako sa Inggles…hay naku…Another thing I noticed was that he seemed quite amused if I made a wrong statement. Like when I was describing the painting where the poor child was pushing wheels and Christ was also there holding on to a beam of his cross. I said that the suffering of the poor child was paralleled to Christ’s suffering, his carrying of the cross but then. He smiled, amused and said “Noh, noh. Dat’s rong.” And I was bewildered. Okay…what’s your side then? “Dat depiks da horribl child labor dat happens in r society…” Uhm, sir, that’s what I meant. If you just allowed me to finish...tsk, fine. Have the glory…for now…

Throughout the whole time, he had his walkie-talkie. I found it a bit amusing. They were talking in codes like “Vladimir!” and “Nasa bookstore!” But he didn’t care. He was concerned with speaking his mind out with me. That was until a problem about the Mangyan Exhibit had a little problem.

“Ah copy, copy!” he replied with a tagalog tone. “Wait. Il be bak.”

“Okay.” I replied as I saw him walk briskly away. Taking the opportunity of his absence, I went to check every painting in the room. To reflect on each one, to read the explanations next to them, to analyze them as an artist, to breathe in the holiness…but there was one nagging problem…

You see, Mr. Leon has a problem. What’s that? He’s got paranoia issues! Yes, sir. Aside from being an introvert, my brain loves to enumerate many possibilities; 99% of the time are killer ones. Like when I was a kid I thought meteorites could come anytime, a black hole will spring from nowhere or God would come down and send me to hell (most are possible but hey, what’s the use of worrying?). So when I thought about why that guard just came suddenly, a thousand things went running my mind. Did he want my money? Was he going to kill me? Does he hate me? Is he insane (hmm, all that smart-talk is *ala Bloo from Foster’s Home for Imaginary Friends* suuuuussspiiiiiciooousss…)? Or the worst case scenario: it was my one of my dad’s henchmen. Yeah, that’s it! My father has his family hostage and asked that guy to track me down. And once he has my disclosed personal information (in between talks I told about my status as a scholar, the city I lived in and my mother’s province…), dad’s gonna kidnap me and torture me! He’ll want to know where Ma and my sister are. And/or he’ll force to join his new religion. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!! God, help me! (Ang galing ko naman gumawa na kwento, haha. Minsan ginagamit ko ang aking paranoia para sa aking pagsusulat. Epektib naman di ba? By the way, I think like this because of past childhood trauma. We haven’t seen dad for 4 years. Just heard of his status and stuff from some sources.)

Anway, he came back and we began to talk again about stuff. I tried to calm myself the whole time, convincing myself he wasn’t a hired assassin or something. Unfortunately, I had to go. I would be late upon arriving home and Sabbath was almost up (it’s an Adventist thing. But also a Sabbatharian thing, duh…). So I went off. “Ah oke. Yu myt get late. Oke, ba-bye.” “’Kay, bye. Thanks.” Thanks for the talk. It was better than what I planned I guess…too bad I worried myself until I slept…damn paranoia…

Nowadays, I sometimes come across that security guard and I have a few quick chats (after all, I’m the guy who grabs the gizmos. And they’re in the area he guards). Hopefully, I’ll talk with him longer. Also I talk a bit with the guys who run the Audio-Visual Room (the place where I get the gizmos). They already know my full name and find it funny that is so freakin’ long. How I wish could chat with them more. Because I’m very interested with tales such as theirs. I also want to talk to the janitors, the librarians, the canteen guys, the kids on the street, the men on the street…yup, the tales of the humble folk. You can see the life in their eyes, the fires in their soul, the reality of their lives, yessiree…kainis lang kasi na nahihirapan ako sa Filipino… (I’m not trying to be noble or anything in this thought for I’m freakin’ far from it, b-e-l-i-e-v-e me.)

‘Coz what’s so exciting about rich kids, gadget kids? Gadgets? Astig, techy pero let’s get practical: you don’t need that. And it’s an annoying icon especially in this time of economic crisis. Cosplay? Cute, and spunky! But please, please don’t go beyond the convention. We leave in the real world too, man. Anime? Most of them have cute-looking girls showing of their intimate spaces…okay, you know what? F U! Go to hell! Those kinds of anime make me siiiick! What’s the use of those fanservices anyway? Oh, you suffered? From…your boyfriend….oh crap…shall I play a Telenovela intro music for you? Luna Mystika, Lalola, Betty La Fea…take your corny pick.

Okay fine, I’m a bit unfair. I guess what I just want to point out is: don’t always live in their worlds. Snap out of it! Have loads of their fun once in a while but please also remember the real world, which is governed by real laws and not cartoon laws of physics. What I see in Benilde is that people are not acting their age, rather they’re all like children. And that they’re living in their illusions. Excuse me we’re mature now.

So let’s talk real. Let’s talk about living. Let’s talk about life!

Let’s all reflect…

Mr. Joey Velasco's Conference

“Sigurado akong Pilipino yung artist.”

“Oo naman ah? Bakit nasabi mo yun?”

“Dahil late siya. Di ba ganyan ang Pilipino? Laging late?”

“LOL…”

—interaction between my friend Martin and I.

Mr. Joey Velasco’s portrait of himself in “Palete de Sangre” (details)

Hahahaha, I’m sorry, ladies and gentlemen but it’s not over. Nope. My last post was about Joey Velasco’s paintings. So this one’s kinda related. Nah, don’t worry it ain’t so reflective here. And not so much on his artistry. So I won’t get you zoned out much. But I really must say this was a very odd turn of events…

It was Friday and the time was 2 o’ clock. IntEcom was the next subject (again. After all my M-W-F sched is almost the same) but this time I wasn’t worried on being late. Heck, I had already planned to…cut class! Oh no, Mr. Leon is starting to be a rebel (wow, ngayon lang? Tsk. Dapat ginawa ko nalang sa high school, para mas exciting. Haha, lol. ‘Oy di ko yun ina-advise ha?). But nah, that’s just a pitiful way of being a bad boy. If that were the case I’d be just like the Powerpuff Girls’ Amoeba Boys, who thought of committing the “greatest crime” by…standing on the grass, which had the sign “Keep Off the Grass.” Wow, let’s applaud their genius.

Anyway, anyway, I already decided that passed Wednesday I would go skip IntEcom; I even announced it to the teacher. Why? Well, for two simple reasons: One: IntEcom was not really a concern of mine. Plus it would have the usual routine…of reporters reporting the same repeated reports (tongue twister!). Boring and hellish. And two: The Conference’s theme is not a usual thought. For years, especially the recent days, I’ve been wondering how exactly I can be a good servant of Christ in my animation and art (you might’ve noticed now that I’m kind of religious. Don’t worry, I’m not a zealot or fanatic who’d scream “The End is nigh! Reeepeent, sinner!” or anything like that).

De La Salle-College of St. Benilde is one of those colleges that are obsessed over punctuality. A few absences or lates, you’ll die. It’s funny, you know. It was already 2:40 and nobody showed up yet. What hypocrites. My friend was witty enough to say that Mr. Joey was pretty late because he was Pinoy. Lol. Plus he was an artist and the man of the hour so he should be fashionably late or “artistically late” as quoted from Martin.

Eventually, Mr. Joey Velasco came. He was a rounded, chubby slightly dark-skinned man with short hair and slightly beady eyes. He wore a simple plain yellow polo and black slacks for the conference. Upon scanning him from head to toe, I was really surprised to see him. I had the impression of him having that intellectual aura, whose eyes, nose and chin, knew only the ceiling, the stereotype pose I thought of for an artist, writer (for he was both), and other related poets. Instead, I saw him as a simple guy, the practical Filipino who also didn’t like formalities. Wow! So humble.

Yup, that’s him. Couldn’t get a closer shot, tsk.

The conference began with a song and prayer. For a second, I thought we were gonna have Mass. Then finally the man of the hour came up. “Pwede bang umalis sa podium?” he asked. He then moved out from the podium and went to the center of the stage. “Ay salamat. Masyadong pormal kasi dun.” And then he began to talk. He claimed he was not a good speaker but, for me, he was pretty good in speaking his mind. His speech was not as impressive as any of those fancy dead guys like President Abe, but hey as I always say, simplicity is the best policy.

He talked of his life: his desire for business as a child, his business when he was a child, his collaterals with his girlfriend (he said that his girlfriend always asked for some money. In turn, he took something from her as collateral. How romantic. When they broke up, she paid her debt to him costing her around 5000 or more I think. Now that’s better than romantic.), his Course in Law, his drop-out from the course because he felt called to be like his father as a carpenter (impressively, his father was able to buy him a car and other great things from the humble job), his joyful family life…and soon the diagnosis of his illness (although the true illness was later found out and operated on, it did not end the next event), his sudden depression…and darkness…to the point where he even isolated himself from the world and his family. Soon, he begged the Lord to drop a rope into his dark well so he could climb out of it; even if the rope was made thorns or glass he would do so, he said. But, according to him, instead of a rope, He reached out with a paintbrush. And from then on, he began to paint for fun, for desperation…

Dude, that is just deep…and you know it. But I wonder, where did he get his knowledge in art? I mean I know it didn’t explode suddenly like a World War II bomb underneath the earth that unexpectedly goes boom. His style was realism, something like that of Juan Luna and Félix Resurrección Hidalgo. That’s pretty difficult. So how did he get that? ‘Coz he never told us any of his art past times when he was a kid. Well, anyway, he also taught us three simple basic rules in painting (and I was expecting some technical nose-bleeding words). But listen, they weren’t only literal but also reflective like those in a parable.

1. Mix the colors of your palette. Sabi daw niya, maghalo-halo ka ng mga pintura hanggang makuha mo ang tamang kulay. But I didn’t get the reflection behind it. Maybe it was: keep mixing the challenges of your life. Experiment with all that life’s got to offer. Learn as many skills as possible as you can so that you’ll know exactly where you fit. (I believe some of us can fit in two areas or more of life at the same time). Gets? Hmm…I don’t know really. Mr. Joey Velasco was a business kid, then supposedly a lawyer, then became a carpenter, then recently a painter. He says this could be just phase and the next thing you know—poof!—he’s somebody else. Hmm…for me, that’s what he meant by mixing colors.

2. Find the light. “If you know where the light is, the rest will follow” he said. True, kung nakuha mo na kung saan nanggaling yung liwanag, malalaman mo na kung saan dapat may bright colors o dark colors. Gradual darkening and all. But what’s the reflection? Any ideas? Yup, you guessed it: he’s talking about Jesus, Light of the World. If you find God, if you find Jesus, the rest of your “colors”, your life will follow. You will see the painting of your life. Naks, ang galing naman nun…

3. Position the shadow. Of course, when there’s light, there’s gonna be darkness on the other side. He prefers to paint the shadows behind the characters; never at the front. I believe it’s not a golden rule but just his style of doing things. What’s the lesson? Accordingly, he said something like “Whatever your accomplishments, they’ll be behind you.” Like a tail, a feather in one’s cap. A sign of your greatness that goes with you wherever you go. Hmm, and I guess it means also humility. For if one were to turn his back to look at his shadow, you will stumble and fall since you will lose sight in the darkness. So one should always look to the Light, so you will never fall and keep going and you will see how great He is compared to your shadow. Like when Peter was walking on the lake to Jesus, who was also in the lake, during a storm. He was doing fine until he looked back. Bad move, dude. He began to sink until Jesus pulled him up. Hmm…another way to view the 3^rd rule is, whatever your pains and sufferings, it’s just a shadow or will be a shadow. It’s all behind you now. And so just keep moving forward! (Hello, Disney’s Robinsons.) Keep looking to the light, and just remember the joy you’ll get once you’ve reached the light. So walk as children of light. (Hello, my Divine Light Academy, my elementary school. Miss na kita! ^-^)

After that, he showed us a video discussing the lives of each “apostle” in his Hapag ng Pag-Asa painting, a video which I watched previously in the exhibit (It was always replaying there). It’s a very touching, disturbing documentary about Filipino poverty and suffering. Just check it at YouTube.

A few questions here and there, and then off we left…he stayed for photos and autographs…a celebrity…

By the way, guys, there was one sad fact I learned during the talk: Most of the guys didn’t give much of a care at all to his speech. They didn’t seem to care of his reflections or the poor. All they cared was that this thing was OrDev-Accredited (Oriental and Development of Values—the “Homeroom” of DLS-CSB). One should get a number of activities in order to pass the subject. So there, sigh. Basta nag-attend ka. Yun lang…how I wish my youth at least gave a little thought about our crappy society…