unboxed, relieved

i had to search myself via Yahoo search engine for the first time, not out of vanity, but out of curiosity. i can’t expound on it, but i wanted to try something. and then i discovered, apart from the usual name-drops i get from our mag blogs, articles about me. one is from a pr agency thanking me for the interview i did for one of their talents. another is a feature in Varsitarian about our exhibit. light years ago, i was part of a visual arts exhibit organized by really talented people.

i was the hanger-on. i just wanted to commune with them. thanks to karen capco, i had my work exhibited in big sky mind. i was so busy i was only able to submit my work. i wasn’t even able to view my work in big sky mind. i was by my lonesome, having no artist-kabarkada there. but jay pacena was really helpful, and made me feel welcome. it had been an altogether fun adventure discovering where he lives when i had to drop off my work.

in the varsitarian feature, it was said there that two poets had their works exhibited. i quote: “Poets Angelo Suarez and [my name here] also dabbled in the visual arts. Suarez, who read one of his pieces during the opening night, displayed a Dada (an art movement that ridicules artistic principles) piece, enigmatically titled “Magritte and Ernst Collaborating on Breakfast.” His artwork is made of paper tubes wrapped in black electrical tape and mounted on a plastic square, and how these two “magic realists” became associated with his work might only be interpreted by his metaphors. Atenean [my surname here]’s “Training,” on the other hand, is a photograph of a naked woman with poetry written on her skin and tacked to the wall where a chalk outline is drawn, perhaps to illustrate her “box.””

how endearing and gripping, to see my name acknowledged as a poet. i suddenly remembered my mantra, “to write with fever in my hands.”

i feel the onslaught of heat again, as if my hiatus from a very cold place only lasted for a few seconds. oh, rilke, how right you are. if you were alive today, i would have built an entire library of praises for you.

i find myself slowly reclamoring to write.

the moon hasn’t forgotten me at all.


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