Carpe Diem! Life is so short. Seize the day!
Poetika: Kung Bakit Ako Nagsusulat
Wei Angeles
Konsensya at Alaala
Ang mga manunulat raw ang konsensya ng kanyang panahon.
Patuloy lamang ang progresyon ng pagsilang at pagkamatay. Walang katapusan. Patuloy lamang ang mundo sa pag-ikot sa araw at axis, sa paglunsad sa lawak ng uniberso; patuloy sa pag-alagwa ang buhay. Ngunit kung patungo saan man, dito pumapasok ang manunulat at lahat ng mga alagad ng sining. Sila ang humahamon at nagtatanong: tama ba itong direksyon? Sila ang nagmumuni: nasaan tayo, sa sandaling ito, bilang tao, bilang isang lipunan? Tama ba itong daan? Ano pa ang ibang opsyon? Mayroon nga ba tayong pagpipilian?
Sa ganitong premise masasabing ang layunin ng edukasyon (education, not schooling) at sining ay magkaugnay. Sila ay kapwa naglalayong umusad ang kamalayan ng tao, ang matuto. Ano nga ba ang pagkatuto kundi ang pagbibigay kahulugan sa mga karanasan, ang pagtingin sa labas ng sarili at pagsilip sa loob. Ang pag-uusisa at pagdedesisyon upang iangat, iusad o ilunsad ang ngayon patungo sa hinaharap.
Ang Pilipinas raw ay nasa bingit palagi ng pagkalimot. Tayo raw ay isang kulturang hinubog ng walang tigil na bagyo, baha, lindol, tsunami at iba pang kalamidad na sa tuwina'y bumubura sa lahat. Lagi at laging binubura ng kalikasan ang lahat ng inipon, ipinundar at pinag-ipunan, pati mga alaala. Kung gayon, nasanay ang mga Pilipinong lumimot upang hindi na maging masyadong masakit ang mga pagkawala. Ang mga manunulat, sa ganitong pananaw, ang alaala ng kaniyang bansa. Ang tagapag-ingat ng kanyang mga alala at nakaraan. Dahil bagamat mas madali ang lumimot, hindi natututo ang hindi nakaaalala.
Mga Teorya
May teorya akong hindi (laging) ang nagsusulat ang lumilikha ng kanyang mga akda. Madalas, ang mga salita ang pumipili sa kanya. Bakit nga ba dumarating ang mga kislap-diwa kahit sa mga awkward na sitwasyon—habang naglalakad, habang kumakain, habang nagmamaneho sa expressway, minsan habang natutulog pa nga o habang dumudumi? Hindi sila masasawata at masasabihang, “Mamaya ka na dumating, may ginagawa pa ako.”Ang mga ideya ang pumipili ng kanyang sariling panahon.
Ang mga ideya ay di sa tao nagmumula. Sila ay mga paru-parong dumarapo kung kanino nila ibig; o mga kislap ng alitaptap na kay bilis makatalilis sa marupok na isip kung di ka maagap sa paghuli. Kailangang mabilis na ipinta ang alaala ng ningning sa papel, kung hindi'y maglalaho ring parang mga nakalimutang panaginip.
At hindi kaya ang ideya ang pumipili sa mga tao? Sa ganitong premise, bakit niya pinili ang manunulat upang pagkalooban ng kislap ng diwa? Marahil may kaakibat ding tungkulin ang pagtanggap.
Appendix:
Excerpt mula sa isang isinulat na book review (Trese: Views from Different Perspectives, 2013).
“Philippine education therefore must produce Filipinos who are aware of their country's problems, who understand the basic solution to these problems, and who care enough to have courage to work and sacrifice for their country's salvation.”
Renato Constantino, The Miseducation of Filipinos, 1970
First, let me stress a few points: Point 1. Schooling is not the same as education. Education is a social practice. It is everything that allows persons to fulfill their humanity. For Paulo Freire, the ideal of man is to reach their completeness. Point 2. For Gramsci, literacy conveys a much deeper meaning. It is much more than a set of skills but is a “double-edged sword; it could be wielded for the purpose of self and social empowerment or for the perpetuation of relations of repression and domination.” (Berthhoff) As a construct, it is viewed as a set of practices that functions to either empower or disempower people. (Literacy and Critical Pedagogy). It is these premise that I am of the mind that everything that injects ideas to people, and in this case the readers, are means of education and are in the same way ways of either empowering or disempowering them; of making the people aware of themselves and their possibilities or just passive receivers of cultures that are not theirs.
As a writer, it is a dream that reading become a tradition in the Philippines just as it is in Japan or other countries with their public libraries that are alive with people (well… of course the Filipino is more into oral stories as shown by the epics passed on and told by mouth). It is a bigger dream however, that the reading and writing tradition be that one that reflects and takes pride in our own identity; speaks of our people and our dreams and aspirations, our struggles and our battles. It is imperative that stories don’t become symbols only of status (Right now, only those from private, more affluent schools are opened up to reading because 1. Children’s books are costly and 2. They are not available for everyone 3. Sometimes they tell only of first world problems). Dreams are free. Ultimately, the goal of education, and therefore by reading, and therefore writing as well, is to empower learners to read the word... and read the world, and read it with more informed eyes; to uplift the human condition; to break through the dimness of knowing so little of the multiverse outside and inside ourselves.
Ang mga manunulat raw ang konsensya ng kanyang panahon.
Patuloy lamang ang progresyon ng pagsilang at pagkamatay. Walang katapusan. Patuloy lamang ang mundo sa pag-ikot sa araw at axis, sa paglunsad sa lawak ng uniberso; patuloy sa pag-alagwa ang buhay. Ngunit kung patungo saan man, dito pumapasok ang manunulat at lahat ng mga alagad ng sining. Sila ang humahamon at nagtatanong: tama ba itong direksyon? Sila ang nagmumuni: nasaan tayo, sa sandaling ito, bilang tao, bilang isang lipunan? Tama ba itong daan? Ano pa ang ibang opsyon? Mayroon nga ba tayong pagpipilian?
Sa ganitong premise masasabing ang layunin ng edukasyon (education, not schooling) at sining ay magkaugnay. Sila ay kapwa naglalayong umusad ang kamalayan ng tao, ang matuto. Ano nga ba ang pagkatuto kundi ang pagbibigay kahulugan sa mga karanasan, ang pagtingin sa labas ng sarili at pagsilip sa loob. Ang pag-uusisa at pagdedesisyon upang iangat, iusad o ilunsad ang ngayon patungo sa hinaharap.
Ang Pilipinas raw ay nasa bingit palagi ng pagkalimot. Tayo raw ay isang kulturang hinubog ng walang tigil na bagyo, baha, lindol, tsunami at iba pang kalamidad na sa tuwina'y bumubura sa lahat. Lagi at laging binubura ng kalikasan ang lahat ng inipon, ipinundar at pinag-ipunan, pati mga alaala. Kung gayon, nasanay ang mga Pilipinong lumimot upang hindi na maging masyadong masakit ang mga pagkawala. Ang mga manunulat, sa ganitong pananaw, ang alaala ng kaniyang bansa. Ang tagapag-ingat ng kanyang mga alala at nakaraan. Dahil bagamat mas madali ang lumimot, hindi natututo ang hindi nakaaalala.
Mga Teorya
May teorya akong hindi (laging) ang nagsusulat ang lumilikha ng kanyang mga akda. Madalas, ang mga salita ang pumipili sa kanya. Bakit nga ba dumarating ang mga kislap-diwa kahit sa mga awkward na sitwasyon—habang naglalakad, habang kumakain, habang nagmamaneho sa expressway, minsan habang natutulog pa nga o habang dumudumi? Hindi sila masasawata at masasabihang, “Mamaya ka na dumating, may ginagawa pa ako.”Ang mga ideya ang pumipili ng kanyang sariling panahon.
Ang mga ideya ay di sa tao nagmumula. Sila ay mga paru-parong dumarapo kung kanino nila ibig; o mga kislap ng alitaptap na kay bilis makatalilis sa marupok na isip kung di ka maagap sa paghuli. Kailangang mabilis na ipinta ang alaala ng ningning sa papel, kung hindi'y maglalaho ring parang mga nakalimutang panaginip.
At hindi kaya ang ideya ang pumipili sa mga tao? Sa ganitong premise, bakit niya pinili ang manunulat upang pagkalooban ng kislap ng diwa? Marahil may kaakibat ding tungkulin ang pagtanggap.
Appendix:
Excerpt mula sa isang isinulat na book review (Trese: Views from Different Perspectives, 2013).
“Philippine education therefore must produce Filipinos who are aware of their country's problems, who understand the basic solution to these problems, and who care enough to have courage to work and sacrifice for their country's salvation.”
Renato Constantino, The Miseducation of Filipinos, 1970
First, let me stress a few points: Point 1. Schooling is not the same as education. Education is a social practice. It is everything that allows persons to fulfill their humanity. For Paulo Freire, the ideal of man is to reach their completeness. Point 2. For Gramsci, literacy conveys a much deeper meaning. It is much more than a set of skills but is a “double-edged sword; it could be wielded for the purpose of self and social empowerment or for the perpetuation of relations of repression and domination.” (Berthhoff) As a construct, it is viewed as a set of practices that functions to either empower or disempower people. (Literacy and Critical Pedagogy). It is these premise that I am of the mind that everything that injects ideas to people, and in this case the readers, are means of education and are in the same way ways of either empowering or disempowering them; of making the people aware of themselves and their possibilities or just passive receivers of cultures that are not theirs.
As a writer, it is a dream that reading become a tradition in the Philippines just as it is in Japan or other countries with their public libraries that are alive with people (well… of course the Filipino is more into oral stories as shown by the epics passed on and told by mouth). It is a bigger dream however, that the reading and writing tradition be that one that reflects and takes pride in our own identity; speaks of our people and our dreams and aspirations, our struggles and our battles. It is imperative that stories don’t become symbols only of status (Right now, only those from private, more affluent schools are opened up to reading because 1. Children’s books are costly and 2. They are not available for everyone 3. Sometimes they tell only of first world problems). Dreams are free. Ultimately, the goal of education, and therefore by reading, and therefore writing as well, is to empower learners to read the word... and read the world, and read it with more informed eyes; to uplift the human condition; to break through the dimness of knowing so little of the multiverse outside and inside ourselves.
My Mantra
Do things while you still can. Travel while you're young, learn new things, explore, love fully, pour yourself totally, commit to a cause, find a philosophy, be at peace with God and with yourself. Study, fulfill your dreams, challenge your limitations, climb mountains, kayak, feel the wind on your face, go to places, know languages, write, eat, kiss, hold hands. Savor every minute morsel of life. Regret for things not done tastes more bitter than things that were tried but ended in failures (failure is also known by the name "experience" and "learning").
As Leonardo da Vinci said, "A well spent day brings a happy sleep, same as a well spent life brings a happy dying."
I've got a one-way ticket to life. I am definitely not going to sit in the bleachers and watch it end doing nothing.
Thank you po Tatay God. Kahit di perpekto ang mundo, kay sarap pa ring mabuhay. ♥ ♥
As Leonardo da Vinci said, "A well spent day brings a happy sleep, same as a well spent life brings a happy dying."
I've got a one-way ticket to life. I am definitely not going to sit in the bleachers and watch it end doing nothing.
Thank you po Tatay God. Kahit di perpekto ang mundo, kay sarap pa ring mabuhay. ♥ ♥
Dedication
A musician is defined by her music. A writer, by her piece. A teacher – a liberator and leveler – by the impressionable youth she took part in freeing from ignorance. And my existence as a creation of God can be defined only by the greatness of my Creator. I am just a vessel of protein, carbohydrates and 70% water. As such, I am defined by my contents.
I do believe that all of Creation – plants, humankind, animals, all of it – has the imprint, the signature of the One who made them. Ergo – we all contain God within us. We are each a temple of Him who made us. I am a vessel. Like a glove is shaped like a hand to fit the hand, we are made in the image of God to contain God. I am a vessel. If God does not reside in me, then I have not lived up to my purpose. I am worthless.
I am a vessel. I have no essence of my own. If I can write or sing or walk or breathe, it is because God wills it to be possible. My ability is not my ability. My talent is not my talent. It is simply His grace working through me. If ever I can do anything good – little or not, it is not because I can do it but because I was blessed to be a part of His will.
I am nothing. In this nothingness I have found my ultimate respite… and power. Praise be to Him, the Great Revolutionary and our supreme Liberator.
I do believe that all of Creation – plants, humankind, animals, all of it – has the imprint, the signature of the One who made them. Ergo – we all contain God within us. We are each a temple of Him who made us. I am a vessel. Like a glove is shaped like a hand to fit the hand, we are made in the image of God to contain God. I am a vessel. If God does not reside in me, then I have not lived up to my purpose. I am worthless.
I am a vessel. I have no essence of my own. If I can write or sing or walk or breathe, it is because God wills it to be possible. My ability is not my ability. My talent is not my talent. It is simply His grace working through me. If ever I can do anything good – little or not, it is not because I can do it but because I was blessed to be a part of His will.
I am nothing. In this nothingness I have found my ultimate respite… and power. Praise be to Him, the Great Revolutionary and our supreme Liberator.
Musings...
Inside me there is longing to live a life I have not yet lived; there is a fire burning, leaping, raging; a tempest as wild as my heart.
Something must be done. And soon.
My great adventure waits, and life won't wait for me.
Something must be done. And soon.
My great adventure waits, and life won't wait for me.
why i have to keep this weebly account/(b)logbook/journal...i keep a journal because: 1.i want to have a record of my life and loves 2. to chart my adventures 3. see my development (or lack of it) as a person. 4. to have something to /marvel about/laugh at/be fond of/be amazed with in the future 5. to have some sort of memoir/literary portfolio of sorts 6. to always have a handy record of those who've done me wrong... hehe, joke lang. I keep one for future reference. i wrote this entry november of last year. and it really amazes me how so much like a rollercoaster ride we're having. Pero masaya naman kasi kahit anog pagdaanan nating loop, nare-realize naman natin how truly great and wonderful He is. and life is so much fun kahit minsan nakakatakot. Nakakaexcite pa rin kahit minsan humahampas yung mukha mo dun sa bakal na harang [na ironically dapat ay poprotektahan ka para di ka masaktan, sabagay kesa naman mahulog ka mas ok na humampas]. So here goes...
"Pinakamalakas tayo kapag tayo ay pinakamahina. Dahil kapag wala na tayong lakas, Siya na Diyos -- ang sisidlan ng lahat ng lakas at kapangyarihan ang sya nating nagiging sandigan. When we become nothing, we are filled with Him who is everything. We are emptied so we can contain His immensity. We are stronger because our strength is Him since we have no more...[edited: too personal ;)] After all death -- life. Tuwing papasok ako sa opisina (CFA), habang bumabaybay sa mga pulang bricks ng driveway, lagi kong nakikita ang puno ng calachuchi sa kabilang lote. Para siyang higanteng bouquet na umaabot sa asul na langit. Maraming pagkakataon na nauubos ang mga dahon niya, pero muli't muli ay namumulaklak uli ito makalipas ang ilang panahon. Pero noong isang linggo, nalungkot ako pag-akyat sa driveway -- mukhang di na mabubuhay ang puno. Tuyo ang lahat ng sanga at wala na talaga ni isang daon. Kaninang tanghali, pabalik mula sa isang pakikipagtagpo, nakita kong ang dami ng bagong bukas na bulaklak. Walang dahon -- pero bulaklak. Bahagyang tuyo pa rin ang mga sanga. Pero naroon ang pangako ng buhay. May buhay matapos ang lahat ng kamatayan. All things has its reason and season..." O, well. Bottomline... God is good. I was banished by the world Abandoned,dismissed was left alone in the cold, uncaring ground… feverish But my heart shall rejoice in my God My grief will fall away In His wisdom I shall be glad I shall let it shine like day. And if His love be water May it overflow or fall like rain And for all my love of freedom May His love be my only chain. Ad majorem Dei gloriam. All for His greater glory. Amen. Metapora ng PagsulatMinsan ang makata’y parang isang boldstar
Na pati kaluluwa ay hubad, bilad Di man siya sa kamera naghuhubad Kita pa rin lahat-lahat pati balat Ang tula niya ay gagawing palaka Hihimayin ang saknong, taludtod, diwa Matapos, kikilalanin ang persona Paano kung ayaw n’yang magpakilala? Paano kung mas gusto niyang pumunta Sa mundo na walang nakakikilala? Ang hirap talagang maging hubadera Kung ang pagkatao ay ayaw ipakita. Ang saklap namang maging isang makata Kung ang kaluluwa’y ayaw ipabasa… (*naisulat sa isang palihan noong Oktubre, sa ilalim nina Ka Islaw at R.G.) Mahirap maging isang manunulat. Kasi, sa tuwinang may mailalathala kang katha, hinuhusgahan ang pagkatao mo — na para bang ito na ang summary ng buong life story mo. Inihahain mo ang kaluluwa mo for public consumption. Noong bata pa ako, gusto kong makita ang pangalan kong nakasulat kahit sa school paper (kahit ni minsan ay di naman ako naging bahagi ng alinmang school publications…), pero ngayon na ito na ang hanging hinihinga ko - ang aking buhay at ikinabubuhay, parang mas gusto ko na lamang yatang magtago sa likod ng mga huwad na pangalan… sa likod ni Juana Merdeka Marasigan o ni Malaya, Waywaya, Diona, Iris Rojo atbp. Sa tuwinang mailalathala ang isang isinulat, pakiramdam ko’y paulit-ulit akong nahuhubdan. Nakikita lahat ng peklat at sugat — ng kaluluwa … di ko man naisin. Bawat letra ng kwentong hinabi sa puso ay litrato ng sariling damdamin. Bawat kwento ay isang bahagi ng sumulat nito. May kapiraso niya ang naiiwan sa mga salita, na tila ba ito ay isang ritwal ng pagpapahayag ng sariling buhay. Ang mga isinulat ay nagiging mga munting sarili. Mga supling. Mga munting Maria Rowena Escudero Angeles. Minsan, ang hirap maghanap-buhay na gamit lagi ang puso, lalo na kung mas nais mong pagtaguan ang mundo. Masaklap. Kasi tuwing publishing date, ipinupuhunan namin ang aming mga sarili. |
Kay MusaIkaw ang tahimik na batis Ng aking mga pangarap. Dala mo sa iyong agos Ang awit ng aking landas. Ako ang maralitang nauuhaw Sa iyong pampang. Lumulusong, yumuyukod, Sumasalok ang mga kamay. Tighawin mo’ng aking dusa Lunurin itong tagtuyong Sinat ng aking loob, Lagnat ng siphayo. Pagod ako’t pagal Sa pangingisda’t pag-aararo Sa mga lawa't lupaing ‘di sa akin, Pag-aari ng ‘di ko kaanu-ano. Pagod ako’t pagal Sa pag-aalaga ng batang Hindi ko kalaman Habang ang anak ko’y ulila. Pagod ako’t pagal Sa paglalayag at pagmamaneho Sa mga lansanga’t karagatang Iniwawalay ako sa iyo. Ikaw ang aking tahimik na batis. Sumigaw ka! Manangis. Makiluksa sa akin. Basagin mo ang iyong pananahimik. Ikaw ang aking tahimik na batis. Umapaw ka't maging dagat. Bahain mo ang lupa; Ang lupang gaya kong Nauuhaw sa paglaya. |