Digressions

I could hardly concentrate. All these statistical design of experiments have to battle it out with some formidable thoughts in my head at 5:30 in the morning. I'm still hung over, about art and books and films and people I adore--basically all the good stuff I have been preoccupying myself with lately when I am not obliged to face the reality of the degree program I chose. No, there's no tinge of regret in that. I may not be exemplary in chemical engineering. But I believe there is a reason why I am here and not anywhere else. Plus, being in touch with both the logical and the creative sides--I'd like to imagine that I am in touch with them, yes--makes me a better person.

Gratitude must be expressed to the cosmos for bringing me here to this point: for opening my eyes to see the beauty in this world and opening my mind to find beauty in the grotesque. Never had I felt so much zest to keep on living--to look forward to something in the future, knowing that there's still so much waiting to be seen and heard and perceived by all humanly faculties. If asked by the perennial question of what truly is the meaning of life, I'll go with John Updike's and Annie Dillard's take on it: to be a spectator of all of life's creation, to keep that sense of wonder at existence itself.

Now, I am done with the outburst. Excuse me as I go back to studying.

Reverie

This is Hymne a l'Amour, a beautiful song I first heard from the Italian movie, Cinema Paradiso. The song has been playing on loop for a while now and yet, this sentence is the nearest thing to progress I have ever accomplished in trying to put into writing all my feelings for the said film. I cheat by finding motivation through the music. I was expecting an overflow of things to say but I only got a surge of wordless emotions. Listening to instrumental music similar to this takes me back to a particular scene when I was twelve.

The dark had already begun consuming the light outside, the lamppost near our house was already lit. The sky is more parts gray than reddish or blue, the first stars had started to twinkle. I was alone in our house, which was gradually being enveloped by darkness and shadows, waiting for my parents' return from a day's work. I could still remember the school uniform I wore. Instead of turning on the lights, I plugged in our CD player and placed my Josh Groban album inside. You Raise Me Up. To Where You Are. Mi Mancherai. These songs lulled me while I lie on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. I could not recall what I was thinking; I most probably had no thoughts in mind that time. I simply stared off in space, imbibing the melody and the lyrics of Groban's heavenly voice. I did not understand how I was feeling, but I knew that I was moved. Have you ever had moments in your life like that? Standing in the presence of something so emotionally affecting, something so beautiful, it sends tremors and spasms to your body? Beholding a thing, grasping it, whether abstract or concrete, and you close your eyes to see it more clearly and absorb every last detail of it? It was fleeting--it is that very thing that makes it magical--and yet is not entirely lost on me. Then, suddenly, the light is switched on, disturbing my reverie. My parents are home and I had to make excuses as to why I have kept myself in the dark.

Nonverbal Magic

"You don't speak, but I hear you."

These words were uttered by Sofya Andreyevna to Leo Tolstoy on his deathbed, as portrayed in the biopic film "The Last Station" starring Helen Mirren and Christopher Plummer. Needless to say, it moved me to tears.

Scene from The Last Station

I am writing not to comment on how beautifully made the film was, or how it has been the ultimate factor to persuade me into reading Anna Karenina and War and Peace. I am writing because that particular scene between the dying Tolstoy and his muse had created a turmoil inside me that must be let out.

Isn't it such a beautiful thing to not speak and yet still be understood? To just look into each other's eyes, not uttering a syllable, and yet a great many feelings have already been evoked? That is the language of love. It doesn't require words because it communicates directly to the heart. Oh, what joy it is to have that person whom you can enjoy comfortable silence with! True, what's said matters, but the things that are expressed through a simple squeeze of the hand or a meaningful gaze are also equally important. In fact, sometimes, they say a lot more than words can ever do.

Post Reunion Thoughts

As more years slip away, the less frequent our high school batch gets together. Perhaps it's because we're getting busier, or the rendezvous is just a little far and inconvenient for some. But I can't shake off the possibility that it is also because we are having fewer and fewer things in common. Each one has walked his own path, met a lot of other people and had his own share of experiences. From that little part of the world which used to be our everything, we learned to branch out and discovered vast new places we'd never thought existed. Ideas filled the nooks and crannies of our mind, numerous events in our lives since graduation day gradually shaped us, and, unknowingly, we changed a lot since. The overlapping area in the Venn diagram of our similarities and interests grew smaller, the things we can talk about after a long time of not seeing each other became scarce. And during the reunion, when the inevitable awkward pause happens, we either frantically rummage our brains with a new topic to discuss, or just submit to the silence and wonder however did we grow so far apart.

Thank God there's still the memories we shared in our four years of high school. We could always come back to that. Although the reunion is characterized by usually starting off with inquiring what's new with you, it always ends in reminiscing what used to be for us. Exactly the logic behind our "out-of-place or OP game" every after a get-together. In this game, we group ourselves according to our sections back in high school--even Elective classes included! And it never fails to excite even the most unenthusiastic person in the group (who has no choice but yield to the group's whims lest he wanted to be "OP" and eternally branded as buzz kill).

Change is already a given but, at the end of the day, the Venn diagram will not cease to intersect.

Blabbermouth #02: Fake It Til You Make It

One of the things on my wishlist is to be able to spread book love. Although I may not yet be confident enough to cross that out, I'd like to believe I am already on my way to attaining that goal. This post, my friend, is about how I helped persuade my sister, Ate Elvy, to start reading too.

Before anything else, you must know that it isn't the easiest of tasks. My sister is what you call a skeptic (hihi online backstabbing at its best).  She doesn't exactly hate books; she just feels like reading a non-required material is too daunting a task. She said she prefer watching movies because everything is visual and you can already know what you need to know just by looking. The best part is that it will be over in two hours, unlike reading which can last for days unless you're a speed reader or a bum. But then again, this might only be my perception of her! >:D

What convinced her to give reading a chance came along when she went to El Nido. She happened to enter a bookstore and I don't exactly know what's in it which made her realize she would like a library like that in her future home. I only know of the fact that she took a picture of a shelf of books and made it her Timeline's cover photo. Kuya Amar and I jokingly called her a poser for doing so. This was last March. My younger sister, Joy, and I, at this point are already sharing thoughts and feelings regarding the books we read. If you remember, last summer was a proud moment of my life because I was able to read six books--the same number which I read for entire 2011. My Ate of course didn't join these conversations because first, we were in Bicol and she's in Manila, and second, because it's not her thing. Unknown to us, she was slowly becoming envious that we can discuss topics such as this. 

We haven't a snobbish bone in our body!

To solve her predicament, she started this Fake it til you make it project. This meant she will pretend to love reading just because it's cool, until she eventually finds the light and realizes how worthwhile this activity actually is. Of course she had to start with what's hip that time: Hunger Games. I didn't recommend it, because my inner conscience that is Bennard, said so. But she argued that she have to take baby steps. Point taken. Better than nothing at all, I mused. After that I think she read Fifty Shades of Grey, too, which again is not something I'd want her to read. By this semester, she began dropping by Booksale and other bookstores too. Her first purchase as bargain was Tracy Chevalier's Girl with the Pearl Earrings. After reading it, she borrowed Joy's copy of Eat, Pray, Love. After much advertising of the literary books and enticing her with our book escapades, I noticed that she seemed genuinely interested with what I am talking about now. (She used to roll her eyes, I swear, when I steer our conversation with these kind of topics!) She even participates, can you believe it? She is now sharing about the trips she made to Booksale, or about how she spent the day on a coffee shop just reading Eat, Pray, Love. Her recent books, you ask? She bought Dumas' Count of Montecristo and Marquez' Love in the Time of Cholera, books to be read after she finishes her currently-reading Pride & Prejudice. Now, doesn't seem faking, does she?

PS. She'll kill me when she reads this!!! But I'm not taking it down because I couldn't be prouder of her! *le tear*

Blabbermouth #01: Book Love Evolves to Book Hoarding

Tonight I feel like writing, just blather on about inane things and fill your head with unnecessary information. I hope that's forgivable since I haven't done so for a while now. :P My regular school workload plus some other org responsibilities had kept me from blogging since the start of the semester, but fortunately not from my books. Yes, I am still in my reading phase and I don't expect that to go away anytime soon. How about I blabber about that, hmm? *sings The Smiths' Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want*

If you read my earlier posts, you will know that I recently rediscovered my love for literature just this year. I originally thought it's not going to last that long because I didn't know I had that patience in me. But miracle of miracles, it exists! I signed up at Goodreads and, again through Bennard's coaxing, joined The Filipino Group. I had my first buddy reading with other members K.D., Mae, and the ever-supportive boyfriend Bennard, for Nicole Krauss' The History of Love and the experience was like a breath of fresh air. Never in my wildest dreams had I seen myself exchanging thoughts with hardcore bibliophiles. And so, as you may have already predicted, it only strengthened my bond with my books.

Reasons Why I'll Start Blogging

1. The need to cross something out from my bucket list.

Did I already tell you I am quite the dreamer? Because of this, stuff listed on my bucket list can get too difficult to accomplish. Things like learning a new language, playing a musical instrument, or going bungee jumping. And since this time I am itching to cross out even at least one, I am declaring that I am ready to commit on maintaining this blog.

2. Just to have something to look back to in my later years.

Being the sentimental person that I am, I love keeping memories. I collect all sorts of objects--from post-it notes and letters from friends, to photos and souvenirs from memorable events, and even the most random things like a tissue paper which may represent a certain day in my life. This time, I won't be needing boxes and spaces for these stuffs anymore. Blogging is my new clutter-free alternative to keeping all the special moments intact.

3. An outlet.

And when I say outlet, I don't necessarily mean rants. It can be some ecstatic feeling which I can't keep to myself any longer. It can be an expression of opinions or a personal view on things. Maybe even thoughts I just feel like sharing to probable visitors of this site.

4. New avenue for writing.

I used to keep diaries before. I reached a total of eight before I finally stopped. I tried OneNote too, but it only went on for about a year. Now, I'm trying this out. Who knows if it'll work out? Besides, I do miss writing. A lot! I may already be rusty, but, what the heck.

5. Something to call my own.

I have a Tumblr site (Follow me: rhenaissance.tumblr.com. Yes, I am that too lazy to think of another name for this Blogger account! HAHA.) and I am proud of it. But since my posts are mostly reblogs, there is no complete sense of truly claiming everything that it is. And so now, this will be my own little spot on the vast online world.

PS. Someone awesome in the name of Barney Stinson blogs as well, and he kind of inspired me! :D