Rainy days like Sundays



To be accurate, these pictures were really taken on a Saturday, weeks ago.
But it did rain yesterday, a Monday, and the weather has been unpredictable the past few weeks.


Started my annual stay-at-home vacation yesterday to catch up on my reading and writing,
and the usual tidying up of the year’s loose ends.


Facing up to the promises I made myself last January, it’s easy to get depressed.
There never really seems to be enough time to do the things I set up myself to do.


But on the bright side – the place where you’ll usually find me – I did rehash this page and my visual diary,
set up a portfolio site, and am in the process of relaunching my accessories web page with e-commerce capabilities.
No mean feat, admittedly, but of course all this is just part of the transition to better things ahead.


Which should be read, yes, as: there is even more work to do.


But the hardest part, the most difficult task for me, is the one that appears the most daunting.


That amidst all of the commotion of self-set deadlines
(not to mention the external distraction that is the Christmas season),
there is the personal commitment to continually learn and relearn the habit of silence.


Seems impossible, no?
Enough, I say – especially with the need and the compulsion to socially engage – to drive one insane.


How to depart exactly at the point of each arrival?


How to look back as one is forced to look ahead?


Sounds like the perfect aesthetic premise, if you asked me.


On top of the things I’ve already mentioned, I have also been setting reading projects for myself.


In 2015, after years of struggle, I was able to finally finish reading and re-reading the poetry of Odysseus Elytis.
This year, Eugenio Montale and Bienvenido Lumbera, and am now digging through the work of Virgilio Almario
and Derek Walcott. (Nearly done with Gabriel García Márquez.)


The books sitting on the shelves in my room are enough to bury me alive,
but it is even harder to find my own voice in the rubble.


Nothing to do but start, yeah? Begin, make mistakes, persevere.


Cling to one’s own clarity of purpose.


Hopefully, before I start traveling the country (yet another plan),
I hope to finish reading all about Philippine folk literature.


But before that, back to silence.


Back to the pages, back to the days and the hours and the minutes. The sea, the sky, and the rain.


Who knows what I’ll be blabbering about the next time I come around talking about grand schemes.

Folded and Hung pullover, Uniqlo jeans, Dr Martens boots

Photography by Jullian Mendoza

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