10 Jan No Comments Geejay Issue 44, Laptop

Obladi-oblada! Life goes on lah!
Lordy how the life goes on!

How long would you say you’ve been writing?

Give or take, have you always harbored an intent at some literary effort in the early sixties? Seventies? Maybe it was the need to jot down a four-liner just to release the balled up knot of ache you’ve been carrying in you for days on end and the nights were not any closer to some sense of relief. Always, page upon page involved the enigma of an Other. Who trampled on your icicles of wishful thinking? Were you slaughtered and dismissed by a mere glance? A glance! Could one with a pen, now so powerful, be so defenseless then?

You filled reams with verses, paragraphs, inanities, profundities and read them back a hundred times that same night. Remember how you cried because you couldn’t explain where in you these prophecies and insights carved their arrival — your arrival — yes, an arrival introducing you to your own “crown prince” of a self.

And you’ve kept on . . . jotting on the inside cover of matches, on cocktail napkins, or on any piece of readable scrap . . . always with this one audience in mind . . . Always feeding that upturned open beak of unsatisfied hunger . . . Always the torturous path where you return again and again to a spot, a lost byway you had missed, bypassed in the throes of distraction. How easy it was to blame your slowness, your unfailing timidity, your self-doubt. All of which one day would transform you (unbelievably!). And your pen would unfurl banners and kites — each kite a different premise, a story’s ending, and such illustrious characters unleashed on the page who struggled for autonomy of their fictional life.

Can you pinpoint the beginning? How long ago was that? Twenty years! Call it forty, much more accurate! Prizes don’t matter. Recognition tickles you for one day. You’re a Tree now, no longer a sapling. Writing is the blood that gurgles crimson in your veins. Expand, where no borders hinder you! And shelter the aspiration of others as you have always done.

Because of you, we came into being. We are your world. The many you in print, scattered and read, have served up a vision: One that will lift that unencumbered millionth mind to reach for the stars.

You are our North Star
Tita Lacambra-Ayala Carlene Sobrino Bonnivier Alberto Florentino Eileen Tabios Luis Francia Luisa Igloria Luis Cabalquinto Jean Vengua Alfred Yuson Nadine Sarreal Macario Tiu Evelyn Sebastian Tony Perez Edgar Maranan Marne Kilates Mila Aguilar Cecilia Brainard Nonon Padilla Cristina Pantoja Hidalgo Nick Carbo Jose Dalisay

Remé-Antonia Grefalda
January, 2015
our.own.voice@gmail.com