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Showing posts from 2014

Some Sailor

It could have been you,
as you always said.
Be happy, you'd say,
as you gallop
across the waves
in your toy boat.

I could have drawn
your form
while you were sleeping,
keep you immortal.

There are no pictures of us
to forget or adore,
only Neptune now knows
the truth of you.

& he will one day
spring from the sea
after sundry sailors
& foul fishermen
who scrape the sea floor
with careless anchors.
Each day I sketch
the shouts and screams
of your sirens
across your
Pacific sunsets.

Immortal only
are the waters
you rode on
for the nets you cast,
the bounty you caught
never belonged
to you.

You must pay it
back to the gods
& those inland
victims of yours
at every port.

Island Asunder

As if it's not enough to watch the island go under or watch myself float away.
It's still there like some ancient ruin left by a mighty chief.
I know what it may feel like to go back to a time. People don't look or act the same: just some scattered tribe speaking an old language, broken and poor by today's standard.
It's not enough to watch myself go under hopping from isle to isle in search of the sailor, some ancient mariner

One Day, Pohnpei

I will come back to you
without men who seek
your women & waters.

I will not come back to teach
but to talk & sing with you
by your rivers & waterfalls,

take each climbing curve
on your mountainside as

I will come back on my own terms
to know the real you—not as
scientist, anthropologist,

exploiting ex-pat, parish priest,
or trans-continental company
you're used to,

but as mother & artist
with Pohnpei poems
I left behind.

Problem with Telepathy

It is not reliable—                    

So neither Are all the times We depended On space and time To pin our meanings Inside milk cartons
They go adrift And sink down And what rises and stay Are radioactive Dust particles, ingested
In disbelief Like a tsunami Or typhoon victim Shock becomes the norm
As deaf-mutes We gave up signing What is language But sketchy sign-stealing
This is the result: I see you At the corner of my eye A motion A dark shadow In fits of bad dreams With no clarity
As for telepathy? Stop answering—decoding— Speak through Phosphene air
Halt all motor imageries More than hands, feet

Fashion Design Thursday

Fashion design has been my first love way before I knew about Fine Art.  I am a conceptual thinker.   If there is an opportunity to design something, I'm there!

Happy Veterans Day!

When You Became Frozen; When You Lost Your Religion

If you've lived long enough, you might have experienced being emotionally frozen, stagnant, stuck.  Madonna expresses this state of being so eloquently and the need to break free in order to love and be loved in this creative and thought-provoking music video with great cinematography.
This was Madonna's deep, introspective period, I believe.

When I first saw "Losing My Religion" by R.E.M., I just finished reading Gabriel Garcia Marquez's "A Very Old Man with Enormous Wings" and I read that somewhere R.E.M.  took the scene from the story in their iconic video.

Sorry Sailors and Bad Ass Bitches...

Just don't mix!

Frida Kahlo and Vladimir Mayakovsky

Stronger Woman, Indeed...

Fun at the Photo Booth!

Before I'm Dead

A starving artist is such an anomaly.  There's many of us out there.  Some of us are able to maintain productivity regardless and continually be inspired regardless.  While others (like me) are waiting for art to happen -- and it hardly happens on a shoe string budget and the energy to produce anything because of stressing over paying the bills.  Those big canvases and art supplies aren't going to materialize itself, you know.  
So, when I think about art and the elite class, those who actually buy art and sometimes appreciate it, I often fantasize running in those circles.  How would it be for once be appreciated? Sure I've exhibited in small venues, and I am grateful for it; however, that's small time.  Many came to appreciate it but hardly bought a thing.  
It's also nice to have that emotional support, that everyday cheerleader in your life that supports what you do but sometimes what's needed most is the patron of your art.  Someone who will buy your stuff, …

Creativity and Travel

I have for so long neglected my writing and artistic pursuits, and lately, I have this vision of starting a new book.  Don't know what the premise will be, but I definitely feel it brewing.
This is a good sign.  I just have to follow all the good tips on how to kick-start creativity and get back to a creative lifestyle.  I have been concentrating on how to get my foot in the door at the college institution full-time so that I can have stability, but I now realize that the moment is NOW.  Like now is a better time than any to continue traveling.   Why wait until retirement?
I want to go to Europe, an area I have not visited yet.  I will also start saving for my high school reunion trip to Costa Rica in 2015.  I always believed in order to experience a place, you actually have to live there, but there's also times where just being there can just be as rewarding.

As I am nearing 50, I see how important it is to check off those things on my bucket list.  The earlier, the better.  Th…

Continual Loss

I have continually grieve over these losses.  

One Artby Elizabeth BishopThe art of losing isn’t hard to master; so many things seem filled with the intent to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster of lost door keys, the hour badly spent. The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster: places, and names, and where it was you meant to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother’s watch. And look! my last, or next-to-last, of three loved houses went. The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster, some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent. I miss them, but it wasn’t a disaster.

—Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture I love) I shan’t have lied. It’s evident the art of losing’s not too hard to master though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

Another milestone!

First day of middle school!

Resurrecting this blog! Yay!

Two years have passed since my last post.  My youngest daughter, who is now 11, have embarked on an adventure abroad to a tranquil and remote speck of an island in the middle of the Pacific where I taught English Composition, Speech Communication, Advanced Reading, and Introduction to Art for the whole year of 2013.  It was a sobering experience to come back, leaving my significant other behind to pursue his own dreams.
As I adjust to Florida life once again, I embark another semester teaching at Hillsborough Community College and Pasco Hernando State College this fall of 2014, hopefully landing a full-time teaching gig somewhere sometime soon.  But in the meantime, I will be cleansing my mind, body and soul, and enriching other minds...