Tuesday, April 22, 2014

I have always been fascinated with portraiture photography; and as I was luckily appointed as a photographer for the Parish of St. Francis of Assisi in Meycauayan, I got to snap photos of people during the Holy Week activities in our church. Collectively, it paved way to my first try on this category of art.

Four pictures, four people – I have entitled the set ‘The Different Faces of Faith’. These were ordinary shots, enhanced and well-saturated through Adobe Photoshop, and I bet people won’t even notice the message I’m trying to imply. But my rational self insists on explaining of what I have seen.


El Sacristan
There are always two sides to see in a person. 
As said in The Little Prince, 'what is essential is invisible to the eye.'
Apparently, I have seen it through my camera lens as well.



El Penitente
Barefooted, kneeling on a rough surface before a cross, under the scorching heat of that Good Friday sun, blood trickles down his back from the fresh wounds of penitence he had imposed on himself.
He covers his face in anonymity, they say; but I have long realized that it's a symbol of expression of shame and embarrassment for having sinned.
And somehow, I know we all should feel the equal emotions for being the same.



El Sacerdote
When you keep on doing what you should keep on doing for (sometimes) five times a day,
how would you look like when you do it for the sixth time?



La Chica Nueva
Eyes filled with curiosity over things she did for the first time in her life.
Had anyone had the courtesy to tell her what kind of blessings she's in for?






사진술 디자인 (Facebook Page)




The Different Faces of Faith

Thursday, April 17, 2014

I feel like I’m caught in between. Things are happening and as much as we want it to stop, it wouldn’t. Words spread like fire, based on unjustified impressions, fueling irresponsible and disrespectful actions – all for the sake of reputation and popularity.

I have gone to obscurity, as it’s the only way out. Eleven years and I have finally opened my eyes to see a kind of reality which I hoped didn’t exist. Yet, it does. And there is clearly nothing I could do about it, except to stand on my ground solidly – and wish that living within this principle will earn me even just a piece of the elusive righteousness we all ought to have.

I have made a choice, as did many others who understand, who know. I have chosen to look at the side others refuse to pay attention to. I have decided to see what others won’t look at.

If this decision will create walls between generations and will jeopardize my position as a silent, feather-light sheep… then so be it.

OF ALL THINGS CRUEL

Six months since changes began. I should have known well that nothing is meant to be perfect, and change is a much dreaded reality for some people. The fortification erected around the privileged was shaken, threatening positions established and reputations built. And naturally, violent reactions are in order.

And maybe, that’s what I wasn’t able to prepare myself for.

Sharp words slash through our ears, and our eyes bleed in seeing what we never expected. It wasn’t anything I should personally concern myself about fully. But I guess, if you support what is right and due, you won’t be able to just stand still and silently stare as things transpire.

Changes are inevitable, we always say. But it terribly confuses me how those who have taught us such truth are the first ones to refuse it. How is it fair to constantly compare two polar opposites? How is it alright to just judge without looking at the two sides of the story? How is it okay to demand to receive when people, themselves, seem to not have the intention to give?

Clearly, age doesn’t define maturity. It is not really words that justify characters, but the actions people exhibit when their comfort zones are threatened.

And because of this, I have realized that for all this time, I have put my faith in the wrong set of models.

THE CHOICE I MADE

With all that’s happening, I found my “emotional caretaker” instincts kicking in. Inside me boils that strong desire to defend people who know what they’re doing. Respect begets respect; and through proper ways I’m introduced to, I’m determined to make that known.

The confidence in me stems not from my background. It is rooted from the fact that there are a lot of things I know which others don’t. There are a lot of information we conceal because it’s not the right time yet – plans which people think I’m not supposed to know, simply because I AM JUST A CHILD.

But even without this knowledge, I am pretty certain I wouldn’t give in to the current trend of hating. I am sure that I would still end up supporting what I do now. Because I know how to give the benefit of the doubt; because it is in my personality to give people time to prove themselves, because it does take time to do so.

Once, I was told that changing something that has long been there is impossible. But I say otherwise. Whatever we are today is just a product of changes our forefathers had gone through before. They had gone through changes that resulted to the norms of this generation. If that’s the case, what’s impossible?

Changes are the only constant things in life; so those who refuse to accept that may die now.





The Choice I Made

Monday, April 14, 2014





































The problem is everything feels so fucked up.
Like after all this time, I just find myself slumped in this pool of uncertainties...
...and worse, misery.

There are some things we really can't get no matter how much we wanted it.
And as life's a bitch, it will constantly shove in your face how much it will never give you what you truly desires.

And in the end, you've got no choice...
but to accept the fact that while some people can have anytime the only thing you've always wanted,

you will never be able to hold it for even just five seconds.

Friday, April 11, 2014

As part of my work, I usually go to Stumbleupon for inspirations on which to write next. This morning, I once again delved into its exciting clicking and came across this site. It's like a quiz or survey that helps you determine what you want to be for the year 2014. I know, I know. It's April, but it's never too late!


After answering several questions, I ended up with the dreams above; and it struck me how honest this was. Hah! Everything seems to be really accurate, including that love idea.

We're in the second quarter of the year; and so far, I think I'm doing good. I'm learning how to balance my time and enjoy myself at the same time. I am opening up my doors to new opportunities, even if that requires me to step out of my comfort zone - slowly taking steps to reaching my goals. And yes, I am beginning to dream. I have found the importance of having even at least one thing to believe in and I'm getting by.

And as for love, yes, I'm starting to open up. The idea of not getting married is slowly disappearing, and with luck, I'll find that one man who would be brave enough to break through the walls even I cannot take down.

The year 2014 started right for me, and hopefully it will continue on and on. 



It's April but One Site Just Figured Out What I Really Wanted to Do This Year

Eleven years. It has been eleven years since I first opened my eyes to service. I must admit it wasn’t entirely because of dedication that I joined a youth group. I have to admit that I was driven by the thirst to prove something to myself and to other people; that I can do something and become of importance to this world.

There had been ups and downs. Countless of times, I fell and got up and then fell down again. It was a never-ending cycle that I’ve been through for more than a decade, and honestly? It was tiring. The desire to prove was still ablaze and seeing myself not getting anywhere felt so pathetic that I just wanted to quit.

Good thing, I didn’t.

During the eleven long years I have been in this ministry, I have to admit that more than half of it was spent on wrong purposes. I have blindly walked through the pathways of ‘leadership’, pushed by pride and dishonest drives. I have stepped on people, created illusions, believed in the phantom of a ‘bigger and more important person’ that I wanted to be… only to realize how wretched my status was.

I worked hard to be liked, only to be hated in the end.

Funny how it took me so long to realize that instead of getting to my goal, I’m actually drifting farther away. I looked back and contemplated on what I’ve been doing with my life and understood – finally – that all this time, I’m doing it wrong.

The problem with me was that I have picked the right destination but took the wrong way to get to it. I used the wrong methods and lived for the wrong purposes. In the end, it backfired on me; and yes, it took me a decade and a year to eat my pride and say ‘okay, I’m getting back to step one.’

And when I did, everything began to fall to its proper places.

Last night, Luwi and I were talking about what we’re doing. The Holy Week is fast approaching and no one could even bat an eyelash because of the tight schedules and piling responsibilities that we all have to act upon. We thought it was tiring, but as we look at the brighter side of things: it is rewarding.

As I write this, I am confident that gone are the days when I want to prove myself. Even Luwi’s convinced that this time, we’re doing it all right. We’re doing it because we want to; because we have agreed to serve God, St. Francis and the rest of those who we have devoted ourselves to. We’re doing all these because we have committed ourselves to service.

On this part, let me admit that sometimes, it hurts when other people think we’re doing this for fame and money. First of all, popularity is a normal thing and I see it as a mere side-effect of service. There is completely nothing wrong with being famous, except when you allow it to get into your head. And to be honest, I don’t think I’ll be comfortable with the thought that will people will know my name. I might not seem like it but I have always downplayed with everything I do. I love working in the background because I don’t want others to like me for what I can do.

Plus, popularity means more responsibilities. And as much as I’m enjoying, I don’t want to force myself in doing things I don’t really intend doing. Service is fun because I do what I want to do. Being famous will surely push me out of that comfort zone.

And money? All things I’m doing for my service, I do for free. I may have secured connections through what I do though. My service paved way to meeting people that could help me through my financial worries; but my service is out of the question whenever I work for them. We don’t get kickbacks and all. Not even a peso.

Looking back to the past eleven years, I smile at the thought that God has given me that much time to learn. During those ‘training’ years, I have discovered the secrets to being a better server, and a better person in general. I have learned the significance of REAL friendship and responsibilities, as well as time organization. I have also realized how important it is to step out and fight openly what I think and believe is right, through ways that would not disregard my values and morals.

And most importantly? I have learned that there is no better home than in the home of my God.

I know many people look at service shallowly; but I still encourage all of you to try. It never hurts to give Him time. You will even gain so much from it.

I Trained for Eleven Years to Be A Better Person, Even Just a Little Bit

Tuesday, April 1, 2014

It was unexpected; but somehow, I have expected it. Although it hurts, especially because it happened when I'm beginning to believe.

After just a few days, I have lost my part time job. According to my manager, the boss doesn't even want to pay me because I don't know how to write. How they ended up with that conclusion, I might never know. Issues on keywords, and they willingly disregard the fact that I spent sleepless nights writing those 27 articles. I know I'm not perfect, but I can say that my articles aren't that much different with the sample they sent me.

I couldn't tell the manager; but of course, I'm disappointed. More than on the American boss, I'm more disappointed and furious at myself. This isn't the first time an American questioned my ability to write. This isn't the first time that they accepted my sample article and then end up criticizing me and refusing my works after I worked hard enough.

Right now, I am at the brink of depression. My manager had been oh-so-supportive, putting me in his first priority whenever he needs a writer for his tasks; but twice it happened, and I concluded that something must really be wrong... with me.

I know people have different preferences, but it frustrates me so much that I couldn't exceed the expectations people have of me. It's not just in writing. It's also in life. I always tend to be the ordinary and plain Jane in everything I do and it bothers me so much that I have once again lost my chance to prove myself - to myself - that I can be someone better.

They say that things happen for a reason, and I believe in that. It's just that it's so depressing to think about the dreams I've formulated when I started believing that maybe, I have developed into a good writer already. It all came crashing when the manager told me the news. Just when I thought that the family will be able to get through our finances well through this part time job, fate proved me wrong.

As I write this, I am beginning to realize that maybe, I really am not meant to be a writer; and I don't really have the right to dream. Because everytime I do, things always get fucked up.

Six years I've been writing for a living and I still get this kind of criticism. I know I'm just letting it get into me in a negative way; but I just need to blurt it out. I asked for advises and tips from my workmate and she generously lent me her time and knowledge.

I can't blame the American boss, nor my manager; nor anyone else for this matter. I can only blame myself because I couldn't work hard enough to improve.

There's no other choice now. I've got to go back to step one and learn. I didn't have proper training in this field, yet this is the only thing I know. If this gets taken from me, or if I decide to give this up, I would be nothing. Well, it's not like I'm 'someone' today. It's just that I'll be much of a wimp than I am now if I discard this one talent (if you could consider it that way) I have.

I need a break. Tomorrow is St. Pedro Calungsod's feast day. We'll have a heart to heart talk. Because I badly need help.



Broken Dreams and The Brink of Depression