Delusions of Grandeur

Bantaak an init kan saldang sa Avenue, kaya hali sa luwas mainiton nagdadaradalagan ka palaog sa Ateneo. Patuyatoy ka sa Xavier Chapel. Malipot-lipot sa laog kan Chapel. Nahayahayan ka. Tuminindog ka sana sa gilid, harani sa pinto.

 

Nahiling mo an dakulang missal nakahulid sa entrada sa taid kan benditadong tubig sa may confessionario. Igwang ibang mga nagpaparangadie. Natrangkilo ka yaon nahihiling mo an dakulang Krusipiho nakasa’bit sa altar sa puro.

 

Diyos ko, dai Mo man po ‘ko pababayaan. Ta’wi man po ako nin kusog nin boot, linaw nin isip—sa gabos kong gigibohon sa ngonyan. Ama Niamo.

 

Pagluwas mo sa kapilya, nataka ka. Yaon an istatwa ni San Francisco Javier, sa gilid kan pinto palaog sa Wooden Building nakatungkahal kapot an krusipiho. Igwang nagsisirisilyab sa saiyang lalawgon, igwang garo nagsisirisirilyab sa saiyang lawas. Bagá na riboribong liwanag an naghahale sa saiyang hawak.

 

Daing untok na garo riniritrato an Santo kan kadakuldakul na cameraman sa luwas kan Four Pillars. Ano daw yan? Tibaad nagmimilagro an Santo (saimo), saboot mo. Sabi mo nagtataong-galang gayod an Santo sa Ginoo. Nagkiling ka sa luwas, tibaad kun saen hali an mga nagriritrato.

 

Nagbagting nang ala una.  Mapoon na an Practical Arts ki Mrs. Dayan.  Lakaw na, sige na. gwang garo nagsunson saimo.

 

Palaog ka sa klase, dai ka napapanultol. Nagmilagro gayod sako si San Francisco, saboot mo. Magayon palan digdi sa Ateneo. An mga milagro ordinaryo.

 

 

 NA(GKA)SALA NIN MAKURI SA HUNA HUNA

An garo riboribong liwanag na nagsisirisirilyab hali sa salming kan mga salakyan na minaralaog sa Ateneo, sagkod mga tricycle na nagdadaralhog nin mga pasahero sa may trangkahan kan eskwelahan. Huna mo sagkod na sana an pagtaong-galang kan tawo sa Santo. Huna mo nagmimilagro saimo an Santo. Huna mo an milagro ordinaryo.

Traveling

 Of all your activities in a year, traveling tires you the most.

It requires you to do the things you don’t usually do, or want to do.

The night before you take the early morning flight, you pack a set of clothes and things. You become critical which wardrobe to use—which shirts to bring for the simbang gabi or wear during the family’s media noche, which jacket to leave behind because it weighs more than the bag itself. You do not bring gadgets that won’t serve any purpose during the family reunion. You need to bring only the things you need.

In the black duffel bag which weighs less than a kilo, you accommodate all your sensibilities. You like the bag very much because it is too light, yet it cannot make room for some 20 things you have acquired in the past twelve months—clothes, gadgets, books and personal accessories. You wonder then where you can put your food—solid or otherwise—so you don’t get hungry along the way, so your ulcer doesn’t worsen. You see you cannot bring a lot of things. You realize you need not be attached to them even as Nene, your sister always told you.

Traveling from Visayas to Luzon and back, you badly need to travel light. But you know you won’t be able to. After putting inside the bag only the stuff you need, other things would turn up and “bring” themselves to you as you further prepare to leave. The one bag of all your necessities becomes two plus three “hand-carries” so that they contain the pasalubong and other holiday gifts.

You look at the trinkets and accessories and handicrafts made from coconut shells by your humble farmer cooperator Nong Bebot and his wife and children in the sleepy town of Ivisan in Capiz. You cannot just leave them behind because months ago yet, you already prepared these masterpieces as gifts to your brothers and sisters and nephews and nieces. You miss them dearly you have not seen their persons lately you will give them things to remember you for.

The next morning, you catch the shuttle van from the mall and off you go to the Santa Barbara airport—along with three big bags and some heavier anticipations. Some 27,000 feet up in the air, you think of Manoy, your eldest brother, brandishing the souvenir toy car made from coconut shells as his prized possession. You remember how you insisted on Nong Bebot to personalize this sort of gifts by writing the names of your brothers and yourself on the toys’ little hoods and bumpers.

  

The effort and the artistry involved in making these novelty products are essentially what you want to share to your family. For you, such are the best things to share. But you also think maybe just like birds and such other animals scattering branches and things from one habitat to another, you act as an agency of trade but also a messenger of the arts. You act as a middleman good for someone’s business but virtually you are also an agent of sharing in the holiday season.

You anticipate how euphoric Manay, your sister in-law, will be once she tries on the three-layered necklace made from coconut shells and beads. You imagine her welcoming the New Year with all these circles and similar things on her; you wish she will be more financially secure this time because you have always been told it is best to meet the New Year with ball-like fruits and spherical things in people’s pockets and dining table. You combine superstition with religion. Yet, even when you cloud your faith with some Jojo Acuin rhetoric, one perennial truth remains—you long for the family you’ve missed all these months you have been away from home.

Sooner, you will hear thank you from them but maybe what you will get is utter silence. Maybe their being quiet means they want something else from you. Maybe they will want what they have always wanted from you year in year out. Something more than what you can always give—they will want you to be happy. And perhaps their silence will say they are not convinced that you are.

Of all your occupations, going home thrills you the most. You always want to bond with the family you missed once you’re given the chance. Year in, year out, you appreciate it is the best and only space that you are born to fill. You are only their own blood, nothing else.

Your plane landed quite ungracefully it almost wanted to smash the passengers’ bodies on the ground, but then you thank the Lord for having inspired the pilot to have taken the safest air paths faithfully. The entire trip, you have kept your fingers crossed. The crew announces you have arrived five minutes earlier than expected. Thank you, Sir, the flight attendant says as you disembark. You smile and yawn.

As you now greet the smoggy air, you see Manila, the noisy, sprawling metropolis. The sight of tedium and traffic greets you. You shake off some jetlag by humming with Julio Iglesias on your mp3 player. But you see you need to be more alert. You have to keep an eye on your valuables, because you remember this is Manila.

You wouldn’t want the three bags to be reduced to two or one as you make your way further out the terminal. Even though you badly wanted to travel light, it should be okay for you to bring these other luggage for the sake of family.

Far beyond the traffic inching its way through Pasay Road, you picture Maria and Xhanemma, your nieces opening their gifts back in your brother’s house in San Vicente, breathlessly trying on the quaint bracelets, and pairing them with the equally artful earrings made of payaw seeds. Where else would you want to go?

Traveling

Of all your activities in a year, traveling tires you the most. It requires you to do the things you don’t usually do, or want to do.

The night before you take the early morning flight, you pack a set of clothes and things. You become critical which wardrobe to use—which shirts to bring for the simbang gabi or wear during the family’s media noche, which jacket to leave behind because it weighs more than the bag itself. You do not bring gadgets that won’t serve any purpose during the family reunion. You need to bring only the things you need.

In the black bag which weighs less than a kilo, you accommodate all your sensibilities. You like the bag very much because it is too light, yet it cannot make room for some 20 things you have acquired in the past twelve months—clothes, gadgets, books and personal accessories. You wonder then where you can put your food—solid or otherwise—so you don’t get hungry along the way, so your ulcer doesn’t worsen. You see you cannot bring a lot of things. You realize you need not be attached to them even as Nene, your sister always told you.

Traveling from Visayas to Luzon and back, you badly need to travel light. But you know you won’t be able to. After putting inside the bag only the stuff you need, other things would turn up and “bring” themselves to you as you further prepare to leave. The one bag of all your necessities becomes two plus three “hand-carries” so that they contain the pasalubong and other holiday gifts.

You look at the trinkets and accessories and handicrafts made from coconut shells by your humble farmer cooperator Nong Bebot and his wife and children in the sleepy town of Ivisan in Capiz. You cannot just leave them behind because months ago yet, you already prepared these masterpieces as gifts to your brothers and sisters and nephews and nieces. You miss them dearly you have not seen their persons lately you will give them things to remember you for.

The next morning, you catch the shuttle van from the mall and off you go to the Santa Barbara airport—along with three big bags and some heavier anticipations. Some 27,000 feet up in the air, you think of Manoy, your eldest brother, brandishing the souvenir toy car made from coconut shells as his prized possession. You remember how you insisted on Nong Bebot to personalize this sort of gifts by writing the names of your brothers and yourself on the toys’ little hoods and bumpers.

The effort and the artistry involved in making these novelty products are essentially what you want to share to your family. For you, such are the best things to share. But you also think maybe just like birds and such other animals scattering branches and things from one habitat to another, you act as an agency of trade but also a messenger of the arts. You act as a middleman good for someone’s business but virtually you are also an agent of sharing in the holiday season.

You anticipate how euphoric Manay, your sister in-law, will be once she tries on the three-layered necklace made from coconut shells and beads. You imagine her welcoming the New Year with all these circles and similar things on her; you wish she will be more financially secure this time because you have always been told it is best to meet the New Year with ball-like fruits and spherical things in people’s pockets and dining table. You combine superstition with religion. Yet, even when you cloud your faith with some Jojo Acuin rhetoric, one perennial truth remains—you long for the family you’ve missed all these months you have been away from home.

Sooner, you will hear thank you from them but maybe what you will get is utter silence. Maybe their being quiet means they want something else from you. Maybe they will want what they have always wanted from you year in year out. Something more than what you can always give—they will want you to be happy. And perhaps their silence will say they are not convinced that you are.

Of all your occupations, going home thrills you the most. You always want to bond with the family you missed once you’re given the chance. Year in, year out, you appreciate it is the best and only space that you are born to fill. You are only their own blood, nothing else.

Your plane landed quite ungracefully it almost wanted to smash the passengers’ bodies on the ground, but then you thank the Lord for having inspired the pilot to have taken the safest air paths faithfully. The entire trip, you have kept your fingers crossed. The crew announces you have arrived five minutes earlier than expected. Thank you, Sir, the flight attendant says as you disembark. You smile and yawn.

As you now greet the smoggy air, you see Manila, the noisy, sprawling metropolis. The sight of tedium and traffic greets you. You shake off some jetlag by humming with Julio Iglesias on your mp3 player. But you see you need to be more alert. You have to keep an eye on your valuables, because you remember this is Manila.

You wouldn’t want the three bags to be reduced to two or one as you make your way further out the terminal. Even though you badly wanted to travel light, it should be okay for you to bring these other luggage for the sake of family.

Far beyond the traffic inching its way through Pasay Road, you picture Maria and Xhanemma, your nieces opening their gifts back in your brother’s house in San Vicente, breathlessly trying on the quaint bracelets, and pairing them with the equally artful earrings made of payaw seeds. Where else would you want to go?

 

Guernica*? Bako, Gueta. Gueta Garbo.

[Guernica*? No, Gueta. Gueta Garbo.]

Usip-usip Ninda Niño Manaog sagkod Cesar Gueta 

[Interview with Cesar Gueta]

Ano an pagpinta segun ki Cesar Gueta? What is art for Cesar Gueta?

Art is my lifelong engagement. Making an artwork for me is beyond the visual. I consider other aspects like metaphors and complexities of life—love, tragedy, etc.

Ta’no ta nagpipinta si Cesar Gueta? What motivates Cesar Gueta to paint?

What’s important to me is my feeling. I actualize it with the use of my mind and hands. My heart dominates the rest of my senses.

Kun igwang ibang pagkakaabalahan si Gueta apwera sa pagpinta, ano ini? Ta’no? What would Cesar Gueta do if he wouldn’t paint? Elaborate.

I could engage myself in product designing, architectural works or academe.

Kun dai naimbento an pagpinta, ano kuta an ginigibo ngonyan ni Cesar Gueta? If art were not invented, what would Cesar Gueta be doing?

I would have been a priest.

Sairisay an mga impluwensya ni Cesar Gueta? Siisay an saimong hinahangaan, kinokopya, o gustong malapawan sa kinaban nin pagpinta? Nata’ man sinda? Name the painters whom you idolize, copy or desire to dethrone. Why?

Cezanne was a forerunner of impressionist art. Scott Burdick is a modern impressionist (who uses) purely brush strokes.

"Manobo," Oil on Canvas, 2" x 2"

Ano na an nahaman ni Gueta sa pagpinta? Karapatdapat ka man daw? Cite your highest achievements in visual arts. Do you deserve them?

In my 3 decades in art in which I had my ups and down—I could say engaging in art has made me a better person.

Ano an dai pa nahaman ni Gueta sa pagpinta? Maaabot mo an mga ini? Pa’no? What have you not yet achieved in visual arts? Will you achieve them? How?

Destiny leads me wherever my heart goes. I believe in myself and family’s support for this endeavor—this is a journey that is never ending.

Igwa na daw nahaman na Guernica si Gueta? Kun dai pa, nuarin daw ni? Have you made your obra maestra? If not yet, when will this be?

In some art competitions, I made original entries that people consider remarkable.

Ano an grand plan ni Gueta sa pagpinta? What do you want to achieve as a painter? (Being a painter is one ambition, though.)

I never have a grand ambition in life. In my career as a painter, my fulfillment is when my artworks touch the lives of many. 

Para sa mga bohemio sana man daa an (pag-in)arte. Nagtutubod ka digdi? Pakipaliwanag. Art is for bohemians—elites, etc.—only. Do you believe so? Please explain.

Art foretells history. If historians are considered elite, so is art. But that is not the case; art is a statement of time. 

Pa’no magiging kapakipakinabang sa sociedad an parapinta? How does a painter become socially relevant?

He does when his artwork touches many lives.

Ta’no ta kaipuhan ta’wan nin atensyon si Cesar Gueta, kun iyo man nanggad baga? Why (do people have to) pay attention to Cesar Gueta, if at all?

If the writer writes, it’s the painter that paints.

*A painting by Pablo Picasso, Guernica shows the tragedies of war and the suffering it inflicts upon individuals, particularly innocent civilians. This work has gained a monumental status, becoming a perpetual reminder of the tragedies of war, an anti-war symbol, and an embodiment of peace. 

Cesar Gueta, "Subliminal," 2010

Cesar T. Gueta is a Legazpi-City based painter specializing in the use of water color as medium. He is currently an associate professor in Fine Arts at the Aquinas University College of Architecture and Fine Arts (CAFA). He is also a product design consultant for export for the Department of Trade and Industry. The 36-year old artist honed his natural talent in the arts during his formative years in childhood, making arts as a child’s play. His artistic talent was further enhanced during his time in college at the Aquinas University CAFA. He joined various national art competions, making it to the finals of the Shell and Metrobank National Arts Competition in Manila sponsored by the Spanish Embassy for his painting entitled “Domestic Helper”. Gueta sees his combined knowledge in Architecture and Fine Arts as an advantage, seeing things in a different perspective, and knowing that “art is a living inscription of time, visual statement of recent history and a reference for future use.” Gueta hails from Monreal, Masbate. (Bionote from dagospo.com)

Check out Cesar Gueta's watercolorworld. Visit http://www.dagospo.com/ or http://cesargueta.webs.com/.

Guernica*? Bako, Gueta. Gueta Garbo.

[Guernica*? No, Gueta. Gueta Garbo.]

Usip-usip Ninda Niño Manaog sagkod Cesar Gueta 

[Interview with Cesar Gueta]

Ano an pagpinta segun ki Cesar Gueta? What is art for Cesar Gueta?

Art is my lifelong engagement. Making an artwork for me is beyond the visual. I consider other aspects like metaphors and complexities of life—love, tragedy, etc.

Ta’no ta nagpipinta si Cesar Gueta? What motivates Cesar Gueta to paint?

What’s important to me is my feeling. I actualize it with the use of my mind and hands. My heart dominates the rest of my senses.

Kun igwang ibang pagkakaabalahan si Gueta apwera sa pagpinta, ano ini? Ta’no? What would Cesar Gueta do if he wouldn’t paint? Elaborate.

I could engage myself in product designing, architectural works or academe.

Kun dai naimbento an pagpinta, ano kuta an ginigibo ngonyan ni Cesar Gueta? If art were not invented, what would Cesar Gueta be doing?

I would have been a priest.

Sairisay an mga impluwensya ni Cesar Gueta? Siisay an saimong hinahangaann, kinokopya, o gusting malapawan sa kinaban nin pagpinta? Nata’ man sinda? Name the painters whom you idolize, copy or desire to dethrone. Why?

Cezanne was a forerunner of impressionist art. Scott Burdick is a modern impressionist (who uses) purely brush strokes.

"Manobo," Oil on Canvas, 2" x 2"

Ano na an nahaman ni Gueta sa pagpinta? Karapatdapat ka man daw? Cite your highest achievements in visual arts. Do you deserve them?

In my 3 decades in art in which I had my ups and down—I could say engaging in art has made me a better person.

Ano an dai pa nahaman ni Gueta sa pagpinta? Maaabot mo an mga ini? Pa’no? What have you not yet achieved in visual arts? Will you achieve them? How?

Destiny leads me wherever my heart goes. I believe in myself and family’s support for this endeavor—this is a journey that is never ending.

Igwa na daw nahaman na Guernica si Gueta? Kun dai pa, nuarin daw ni? Have you made your obra maestra? If not yet, when will this be?

In some art competitions, I made original entries that people consider remarkable.

Ano an grand plan ni Gueta sa pagpinta? What do you want to achieve as a painter? (Being a painter is one ambition, though.)

I never have a grand ambition in life. In my career as a painter, my fulfillment is when my artworks touch the lives of many. 

Para sa mga bohemio sana man daa an (pag-in)arte. Nagtutubod ka digdi? Pakipaliwanag.

Art is for bohemians—elites, etc.—only. Do you believe so? Please explain.

Art foretells history. If historians are considered elite, so is art. But that is not the case; art is a statement of time. 

Pa’no magiging kapakipakinabang sa sociedad an parapinta? How does a painter become socially relevant?

He does when his artwork touches many lives.

Ta’no ta kaipuhan ta’wan nin atensyon si Cesar Gueta, kun iyo man nanggad baga? Why (do people have to) pay attention to Cesar Gueta, if at all?

If the writer writes, it’s the painter that paints.

*A painting by Pablo Picasso, Guernica shows the tragedies of war and the suffering it inflicts upon individuals, particularly innocent civilians. This work has gained a monumental status, becoming a perpetual reminder of the tragedies of war, an anti-war symbol, and an embodiment of peace. 

Cesar Gueta, "Subliminal," 2010

Cesar T. Gueta is a Legazpi-City based painter specializing in the use of water color as medium. He is currently an associate professor in Fine Arts at the Aquinas University College of Architecture and Fine Arts (CAFA). He is also a product design consultant for export for the Department of Trade and Industry. The 36-year old artist honed his natural talent in the arts during his formative years in childhood, making arts as a child’s play. His artistic talent was further enhanced during his time in college at the Aquinas University CAFA. He joined various national art competions, making it to the finals of the Shell and Metrobank National Arts Competition in Manila sponsored by the Spanish Embassy for his painting entitled “Domestic Helper”. Gueta sees his combined knowledge in Architecture and Fine Arts as an advantage, seeing things in a different perspective, and knowing that “art is a living inscription of time, visual statement of recent history and a reference for future use.” Gueta hails from Monreal, Masbate. (Bionote from dagospo.com)

Check out Cesar Gueta's watercolorworld. Visit http://www.dagospo.com/ or http://cesargueta.webs.com/.

Miling

Ni Raphael Francis Saavedra

Kan aldaw na magadan si Miling, nagkakurubhan si mga taga-Bagacay sa kurahaw ni Eta, an saiyang esposa.

Tanda ko pa si kinurahaw ni Eta kan aldaw na idto—“Miling, dai ko na ika mahahadukan sa saimong payo!”

An payo kaya gayod ni Miling ginikanan kan manlaen-laen na dunong kan saindang anom na aki—Emma, Junior, Salvador, Ofelia, Manuel sagkod Antonio. Sinasabi man na an payo ni Miling nanganaan kan mga illegal logger asin ginibo ining airport.

Si Miling. Beterano, maestro, ama, lolo. Principal kan barrio. Bantog si Miling sa Bagacay sa apod na “Sir”—idolo kan mga tao, idolo kan mga engkanto.

Dai ko man nanggad malilingawan si Miling—kinakatakutan nin mga paratatsi; linilikayan kan mga mayong ugali. Dawa sa mga makuapo niya an pagdisiplina sagkod na sana.

Sarong beses, pinaruluhod niya si apat kong tugang sa atubang kan Sagrado Corazon—dahil sa sala kan saro nadamay si tolo ta nagpaparangirisi kaya. Nagparangisi man ako alagad dai ko nakabale ta nagsasapna kaya ako.

Igwa man vez na ako an igwang nakadulak na tugang. Kaya pinaarapod niya kami sa libod. Poon alas nueveng agang sermon abot sinarom, saro sana an nasabutan ko sa halabaon na sermon—pasensya. Dawa daa agrabyado, [mag]pasensya.

Dai ko ito naiintindihan kaidto alagad kan mawara na siya, saka sana tuminadom an hulit niya sako. Pasensya. Dapat halabaon an saimong pasensya. Iyan gayod an dahilan kun ta’no dai siya malingawan kan mga tawo digdi sa lugar mi.

Kan siya magadan sa Aldaw nin Pagkamoot, nakatiriwi, mangkakanos kan mga lalawgon kan mga taga-Bagacay. Kan magadan si Miling, pati an kinaban nakisumaro sa paghibi kan mga engkanto.

Kan aldaw man na idto, nakanood ako saiya—tighurophurop ko si mga tigsabi niya sako. Ngonyan siya saro na sanang istorya.

Dios mabalos po, Lolo Miling.

Sarong pagsalingoy sa nakaagi ni Emiliano Saavedra, Sr., sa minsan na pag-iribahan mi duman kun saen ako nagpoon.

 

Emiliano Salvosa Saavedra, Sr. (05 Enero 1915–14 Febrero 1997)