Vincent

Almond Blossom. Vincent van Gogh (1853 – 1890), Saint-Rémy-de-Provence, February 1890. He painted this with love for his nephew and namesake.

I was just vaguely aware of Vincent van Gogh’s life and was more familiar with his paintings.

Until tonight.

I read up on him the entire night (for some reason) and learned about his loving relationship with his younger brother, Theo. I felt his struggle with his mental health and his desperate need to paint because that was the only way to quiet his spirit and ease anxiety and depression (oh how painful it would have been without modern medicine!).

His anxiety deepened as he felt his dependence on Theo’s generosity is weighing on the future of his nephew–his namesake–and Theo’s wife.

He knew he was not getting better. He could no longer contain the pain.

Gun to his chest.

His brother died heartbroken six months after Vincent died of gunshot wounds.

Although I may never know how a bipolar felt, I could understand his need to paint and paint to draw out the pain from his body. As if painting numbs you. As if that’s the only way to silence the raging emotions within you, the pain of emptiness that envelopes you.

I wanted to cry for Vincent. It wasn’t his fault he was sick like that.


The last time I drew and painted was when I was 17.

Until I had an “episode” (as my doctor called it) in February this year—when I received J’s painting and had learned about the the truth that I didn’t want to discover—I have never produced something passable as art. It’s that pain of hollowness, that depression, that inexplicable feeling of wanting to be free from something unseen that drove my pencil and brush. Only my hands could express all of those because my keyboard suddenly became bereft of words.

This was a product of my need to draw my heart in a different way. I could not express the pain I had at that time so this came into being. I became a writer who could no longer produce words. That’s how bad it was. Art and photo by CallMeCreation.com

I drew this because I had no words to give friends who asked how I was. This was my easiest answer. Art and photo by CallMeCreation.com

I painted this when I was 15, inspired by Van Gogh’s cypress trees and some landscape painting of Arles. Because I was feeling his emotions through his brush strokes. It resonated with me. I must have been feeling something strong at that time when I did this. Art and photo by CallMeCreation.com

Now I understand
What you tried to say to me
How you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free
They would not listen, they did not know how
Perhaps they’ll listen now

For they could not love you
But still your love was true
And when no hope was left in sight
On that starry, starry night

Vincent by Don McLean

Stooopid

I rushed in buying ETF earlier this week. It was 2 pesos more expensive than today as Nikkei index has registered the biggest fall in 4 weeks on US Fed comments about rate hikes. I had a nagging feeling then that I should wait but I ignored my inner voice and told myself what bad news could we have again? 🙄 How annoying. I could have bought more at today’s price.

The Nikkei lost 1.58 per cent to close at 27,350.30, posting its biggest daily fall since Mar 11.
PHOTO: AFP

Meanwhile, I didn’t get enough sleep as a midnight email from London rocked me. My boss is transferring to another product and she didn’t tell me what was going on. My colleagues and I were running around like headless chickens even until yesterday because our reporting lines were blurred. I could not help my colleague with her request for travel because I was not yet given authority to do so. A lot of things were pending because there was no reporting line authorized under me. I wasn’t even told that my boss was no longer doing editorial work so everything fell on me, without proper compensation yet. A lot of admin work kept piling up on me even though I had no official word that these were already my official duties.

I was so confused this morning. I don’t know what to make of this. Why didn’t she tell me? I kept on adding her in team calls and in email threads when she could have just told me that she doesn’t need to be in there. I was walking on eggshells for months.


I’m thinking of attending art classes and I found an atelier near my house that offers classical drawing and painting lessons. Unfortunately their schedules are not friendly to working people like me.

I figured even if I draw and sketch everyday, I will not make a lot of improvement because the theories are lost on me. If I didn’t buy a Domestika course, I wouldn’t be able to learn about vanishing points.

Unfortunately, this atelier only offers oil painting. Although the same principles could be applied to watercolors, the latter is more finicky and the medium’s immediate permanence on paper makes it unforgiving to novices. I didn’t go for oils because I have asthma and the fumes, especially the thinners, cleaners, and solvents/varnish could trigger an attack. It’s a lot messier, too, and it demands a bigger space when practicing.

Meanwhile

I’m tired. Art and photo by CallMeCreation.com

I no longer know what to do with this.

I’m going back to my poppy flower.

Back to singing live–online for now

This was our livestream set-up last night. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

So we had our livestream last night that lasted 2.5 hrs. People were telling us this was our most enjoyable episode to date, with jamming sessions in between questions during our in-person and Zoom interviews. One of the interviewees was live from Texas. I had an amazing guitarist, while one of the co-hosts played the keyboard and I was singing and manning the Zoom meeting that was livestreamed as well. Other co-hosts also provided backing vocals or main vocals as needed. I played the tambourine-like percussion instrument in one song. Everything was spontaneous–and that was the most fun part.

The “studio”, which was a porch/wood workshop of one of our high school classmates/co-hosts, was messy but it didn’t show much in the livestream, but we gotta do something about it soon.

We had so much fun that I left the studio at 12:30 am and got home in Qc at around 1:45 am. I had black brewed coffee to keep me alert on the road and maintained my speed at 80kmph, except when overtaking.

Before the livestream, I visited my mom and brought her purple flowers, drilled some stuff in the upstairs bathroom of the main house and added a new shower head. Then visited one of high school friends who was back in the country and gave her more of my hand-made masks and some for her kids.

One of things that I needed to do during this visit was to get my old watercolors/pencil/charcoal drawings to hang in my room.

I resisted the urge to fill this gallery wall because I need some white space to let the room breathe. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
“Mommy, your drawing is nice but King Charles II is ugly,” Twin A said. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
My hand-sewn curtains provided a nice contrast to the modern black frames of the pictures. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
This watercolor painting is a reminder. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

As I wrote on an Instagram post:

I used to paint and draw in high school. I found these in my room in xxx (hometown) and framed them to grace my room here in QC to remind me of who I was before I lost myself in ugliness and sadness. I have found that girl again, even though she’s xx heavier now, she’s still the same old creative person, richer in experiences. (By the pond, watercolor, CallMeCreation 1994).

I was 18 years old here against the ruins of the Old Chemistry building that was gutted by fire when I was in elementary school. I always lugged my film SLR camera around campus during this time after I took photography for one semester. I processed and printed this b&w photo in our college’s darkroom. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

I found this girl. The girl who balanced football, theater, school, her Greek-letter organization, and social life. She is her own person. Her heart was yet to be broken and become jaded in this photo.

Digging through memories

Traffic was terrible yesterday; it’s as if the whole world descended on South Luzon Expressway. I left at 4 pm and arrived at 7:30 pm. I was just in time for the live broadcast of our talk show, where I wore a gorilla mask before my high school friends revealed that I’m the newest co-host.

Halloween selfie. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

The episode is a Halloween special and of course I’ve had a lot of those scary stories of my own. Two of our viewers last night were primary witnesses to my scariest story, which even freaked out my co-hosts. “You know,” one of my co-hosts and friend said, “we’ve known you for decades and we don’t have any freaking idea about this side of you. If we only knew that you were one entire horror movie, we wouldn’t have gotten you as our vocalist.” It was in jest but I could feel he got freaked out.

This is why I don’t like horror movies. I’ve lived through them.

Anyway, I was asked by some of our high school classmates to contribute to the photo gallery that we will be using for the homecoming. So I rummaged through my boxes in my old room and scanned some of them.

Then I found some treasures.

Mommy and kitty. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

Here’s our mommy cat, Puppy (yes, that’s the name we gave her) and her kitten, Kulet. They’re so lovely.

Our pets. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

Our cats by the old computer. My dogs. I suddenly missed them. I wasn’t joking when I told my kids that at one point we had four dogs, three cats, and a tankful of fish.

I also unearthed short stories I wrote and some drawings from high school that survived.

Charcoal drawing by CallMeCreation.com
Splotches, watercolor, by CallMeCreation.com
House of Cards, Mongol pencil, as interpreted by CallMeCreation.com
Dancing under the moon, Mongol pencil by CallMeCreation.com
In Paris, watercolor by CallMeCreation.com
By the Cafe, watercolor, by CallMeCreation.com

I’ve almost forgotten that I used to draw and do watercolors. I should revisit this one of these days.

Such a terrible idea

We are inviting another surge. They’re opening everything up without the proper safety measures. Two years on, we still couldn’t get a proper contact tracing system and accessible testing. We are groping blindly in the dark and we just have to pray that our bodies would be healthy enough to withstand Covid. Even if you’re vaccinated, you can get infected again and again. One journo said the president of one of the Philippines’ largest conglomerates got infected thrice. He is still alive though.

And unvaccinated children are the perfect vectors.

By December-January, we will have another surge by the looks of it.

Meanwhile, an internal memo from CNN Philippines got leaked to Vera Files and got published. Well, good for the editorial team at the network for resisting the orders from the owners (or the real owner). But then the family that owns the network (in name only) is known to be a Marcos crony, but the rumored real owner is a beneficiary of the cronyism of the Marcoses. Very, very close associate of the late dictator.

Knowing some of the editors at CNN, I could very well picture in my head how they would have reacted. One of them took over the subject I used to teach in UP after I quit and I gave her some of my teaching materials and syllabus. Her reaction to this memo would have been priceless and I could hear the invectives she would have thrown around the newsroom.

Some founders of Vera Files are also teaching at my college.

However, CNN Philippines’ viewership is very limited because they’re an English-language channel. The people who should be reached by the truth are the C, D, E markets who comprise the bulk of the Philippine electorate.

Because it is in every dictator’s playbook, ABS-CBN–the one with the widest reach in the country and owned by the Lopezes, one of whom was imprisoned by Ferdinand Marcos–was killed on free TV last year. All the Filipinos can see/watch/hear now are the propaganda of the very Marcos-friendly GMA, the executives of which are Marcos allies. I remember writing the news about one case filed by Imee Marcos more than a decade ago before the SEC, claiming that the shares owned by the Duavits (Gilberto Duavit is the COO of GMA) were just “lent” by the Marcoses to them.

As I said, the real fight is not on social media but at the grassroots level. Those who want change must talk to the people on the streets, in the farms, in the far-flung barangays who do not have access to internet or even cellular phone signal.


My cats investigating the Christmas wreath I bought from Shopee two weeks ago. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

The crap that I’ve been buying have been arriving daily. I should stop buying stuff. I really need to get out.

Some of the good purchases I had were the watercolor sets and brushes so the girls would be able to put into practice the stuff they’re learning from Skillshare and Domestika. Twin A today was so busy painting. Good. She is off computer games, unlike her male cousin who has never taken his eyes off his Roblox game.

Twin A’s first watercolor painting exercise today. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

I told her if she practices and gets better at this, I will buy her the more expensive gouache paints so she can level up. She initially wanted to start with gouache painting but I told her she should start first with watercolors, learning how to control her brush, the water, and blending colors. I told her to always bring her sketch notebook and smaller watercolor pad with her so she can practice copying scenes around her so she can practice all the time. I told her I always had a notebook and pen with me in my bag while I was growing up so I can write during my idle moments–one way of practicing my craft. That habit has stuck with me until today. I have several notebooks with me all the time in my bag: one for work and another for my random musings when I don’t want to fiddle with my phone while waiting for my car to be washed, for my turn at the grocery store, or whatever.

I always knew from the beginning that her right brain is more dominant. However, she is overcome with insecurity as she is obscured by her twin, who is more of a left-brain child and articulate.

As a parent, I should nurture their talents and interests. If one is more introverted, I let her be. If one is more extroverted, as Twin I is, then I let her be. It’s about training them to be well-rounded people, with emphasis on their interests and talents.

The tricky balance here is how to keep nurturing them while I grow as a person and as a creative as well. Being a single parent is hard because I do not have anybody else to lean on and help me with the nurturing part. Everything is on me. If they fuck up, it’s 100% on me. I usually have to forego my own interests because their welfare is my priority. I salute mothers who have pulled back on their careers and interests for the sake of their children. It’s only when the children have flown out of the nest did these women pick up their lives. The sad thing here is many years have gone by and little time has been left for their own personal/professional/creative growth.

I wish their children have realized that before their moms became Mom, they were individuals who had their own desires, hopes, dreams.