Red Pills for Breakfast
Tuesday, October 2, 2007My favorite breakfast is warm, sticky oatmeal—with just a dash of brown sugar (Muscovado, preferably). If not that, it’s gotta be a sunny-side-up egg or two, without salt or the yoke (that’s where the cholesterol is!), and no rice. That’s it; plain and simple (I’m on an eternal diet).
This morning, however, I got a totally unexpected treat when my sweetie called me at 4:30 a.m., telling me that he was going to drop by in 15 minutes with something he had to give me. To the rest of the world, 4:30 is an ungodly hour, but to us, it’s a perfectly good time to come calling.
He showed up at my doorstep shortly before 5, with a small bunch of red flowers in his hand.
It was just the kind of thing to make my day—or even my week. Or maybe even longer than that.
To all those guys who want to get the girl, take this hint.
(Of course, you may not be allowed to visit at 4:30 a.m., but try to be creative and see where this takes you.)
Then, after a lot of chit-chat and catching up, he pulled out another red pill from his bag of tricks: this really funky, trippy¸ in-your-face magazine called The Stick Insect Hunter (“the website you can bring to the bathroom”). Published by artist, photographer, writer, and creative genius Andy Maluche, it features 36 pages of amazing (if not twisted and perverse) artwork, photography, and scribblings. It carries most of the content from his weblog, http://dont-touch-my.com, and has enough wit, sarcasm, toilet humor (literally), and creative genius to last me several weeks.
His style is eons apart from my own, but here was another red pill staring me at the face.
I highly recommend it to anyone and everyone seeking a little bit of artistic inspiration, as well as a good ol’ kick in the b—. Okay, it may be a little offensive to some, but it’s worth a look-see anyway. And, mind you, the magazine is beautiful… even if the website comes across as amateur and “mishmashy”.
Here are a few interesting lines I stole from page 28:
Doubt is creativity.
If there is doubt, then there must be an alternative.
By doubting you automatically create an alternative.
The urge to find an alternative is what makes an artist or scientist.
As an artist you should doubt everything, even truth.
Don’t try to find the truth.
What are you going to do with it once you found it? (sic)
Find security in doubt.
Art doesn’t make sense.
So you have to do it fast before you realize that.
Before the ugly doubt beast starts gnawing at your insides.
That is the other doubt—the destructive kind—
Self-doubt.
I may not totally agree with everything he says, but I find it interesting, nonetheless.
So… here’s to art, creativity, genius, and red flowers before dawn.
(Written: A Spoonful of Sugar, 25 November 2003)
The Power of One
Saturday, September 29, 2007After that somewhat depressing piece on causes and morality, I feel compelled to write about hope, and about how we can still do something despite all the madness that goes on around us.
I’m not going to write about it in abstract terms. Let’s just say that I was fortunate enough to have been “reunited” with a fellow artist and advocate whose only passion is to make his community a better place, and I’d like to share his story with everyone here. If this seems like the work of an enamored poet, then I apologize. It’s been a source of inspiration for me, and I hope that it will somehow make you think about your life’s possibilities.
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He had a crazy idea way back in college.
He noticed that many of the kids in the Ateneo grew up in sheltered environments, and were oblivious to the social ills that pervaded Philippine urban society. Yes, they had their theology and philosophy classes, but the things that they discussed in class were so abstract that these didn’t compel students to take action.
He couldn’t bring the students out of their comfort zones, so he brought the symbols of these social ills right smack in front of the students’ faces, where they would no longer be ignored.
One Christmas, he worked to bring in hundreds of streetchildren from the Katipunan and Marikina areas to the Ateneo campus, where they would be treated to a day of fun and games, food and friendship. It was a simple gesture, but it forced students to acknowledge what was happening just outside the campus gates. People became more aware of the changes that needed to be made in society. The project clicked. Thus began an Ateneo Christmas tradition.
He knew that his pet project was only the beginning of a lifetime of servant-leadership.
This man was fond of comics, and he related most with Batman because of the latter’s “humanness”. The Dark Knight didn’t have any inate superpowers, and yet he had outwitted and overcome many a powerful adversary. It was just the sort of thing that he himself wanted to do.
He got his chance when his family was thrust into the political arena, and when public service became a large part of his life.
But he wasn’t just a social activist; he was a musician and an athlete as well. And he masterfully fused these gifts to introduce change in his community.
With his kulintang, his kahon (a box-drum), and 5-gallon water bottles that doubled as congas, he introduced indigenous music and culture to the urban folk. In a city that was (and still is) run by celebrity-politicians, his work gave people a sense of history and dignity. With his arnis sticks and fellow arnisadors, he empowered the barangay tanods and brought some semblance of security into the communities (with an indigenous martial art, no less). Now he is taking things a step further by fusing arnis and percussion in a performance art that is distinctly Filipino.
He is a struggling artist, but his struggles go beyond artistic expression, financial stability, and fame.
Seeing him work from up close has given me a reason to believe that things can get better for our country. He is just one man, and yet he has already created ripples of change in our community—ripples that will, in time, grow to be waves of real, sustained progress.
People may scoff at his efforts, for art, music, and culture are really “just” peripheral concerns. How about feeding the poor? Educating the ignorant? Healing the sick? Serving justice to the marginalized?
Oh, he gets into that, too. But it’s his art which he feels most passionate about. It’s his art which uplifts the spirits of his cityfolk and makes them feel that they have an ally from “the other side” of the societal spectrum. It’s his art which galvanizes both young and old people from his community to make real and significant changes. His art has breathed life into our rotting little city.
It’s amazing what art can do.
Having been born into a well-off family, and being the son of a political figure, he could have chosen to bum around and live off his parents’ fortunes. He could have been like other coke-sniffing, gun-toting political brats who live each day as if they were half-dead. Instead, he has chosen to take up his own cause and use his resources to uplift the lives of those in need.
He gets tired. He gets very, very tired, but he also finds that he can hardly sleep at night. Knowing that he lives each day with a purpose, however, gives him enough strength to forge on and devote yet another day to serving his community.
It’s amazing what one person can do.
And imagine what will happen if more people decided to stop yakking and start moving in the right direction.
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“To realize one’s destiny is a person’s only obligation.” ~ Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist
(Written: A Spoonful of Sugar, 11 August 2003)
