After three years of e-storming, Remé decides to cross two state lines to see me. Over coffee, she asks me to be OOV's Associate Editor. And I hesitate.
I am being asked to commit—and commitment means re-drawing my boundaries; that I will have to re-assess such concepts as opportunity cost, intimacy, rejection; that "this far and not farther", in terms of relationships, has suddenly become zero-dimensional.
In this issue, I am floored by Eileen Tabios' hay(na)ku as a poetic form. One variation is Thomas Fink's visual poetry where "the primary imagery are sets of three fluid 'lines' in either increasing or decreasing length, mirroring the concept of the hay(na)ku tercet . [that is,] open and evolving ."
How very apt, I thought, seeing how Our Own Voice has metamorphosed—as Remé puts it, "[into the quintessential] butterfly ... In the final analysis we all fed the caterpillar, massaged it, helped spin the cocoon ."
I recently went over our past issues, and OOV has, like me and our many contributors, crossed indeterminate boundaries. For instance, I was first introduced way back in 2003—and from there, my relationship with Remé has progressed into a more solid friendship whereby we are able to bounce ideas off each other, and where I'm comfortable enough to call her my (tor)mentor.
Then my role sort of progressed into talent scouting, unofficially. Although I never had formal training in creative writing, I know a good piece when I read one. Couple this with my web crawling instincts, and I've been able to bring to Remé's attention some really excellent works from both published and unpublished writers. Among my personal favorites are: Prose Collage (Essay, October 2004); Lit, Actually and Genesis (Essay/Interviews, September 2005); Pinoy Rock Icon (Portrait, December 2005).
Going back to this issue, there is Alfredo P. Hernandez's Papuan narrative which essentially touches on our ethics, particularly as it relates to our adaptability as a people.
One commonality stands out between the hay(na)ku and Pinoy-style invasion: they are practically boundaryless. Personally, this means I am skewed. For how can I allow myself to be marked off from that which I profess to love?
And so, I said yes. That was five months ago. Come winter, I will know how inexhaustible love really is.