Dreams

I am writing about a kid I first met years ago, who eventually grew up,  grew up taller than me in fact, and started charting his life.

He wanted to be many things, I recall. He had dreams, and he has lived them.

I am glad he does what he does.

But how I knew him was my personal knowledge of this once kid. Years after the first time I met him, he grew up, like I told you, revealing more than what he was years ago. What he does now is his greater introduction to the world. His past ceases to define him, because his present and future will, like how it should be for everyone.

When you click on the link below, he will show himself to you, his short film is a fruit of his labor.

In a Lilac Dream

Do enjoy!

And Merry Christmas!

The new year is coming, and it is time for me to dream again. You should too. 

How I miss writing

This screen was blank for fifteen minutes before the first letter was keyed in.

I do not know how this works anymore. It has been two years since the last post. I also noticed that the recurring theme of my last blog posts was my inability to write as often as I could. But I choose not to give it its death. No, not yet.

So, here I am. I write. I try.

While I do not know if anyone still reads this, I am not going to stop yet. This time, I shall write for myself.

I write this while Fado music, whose language I cannot completely understand, becomes a relaxing companion to this writing exercise. How come I just recently discovered this music?

Today was supposed to be uneventful. Today, a Sunday during summer in an almost empty Madrid, allowed me for the first time in a long time to hear myself the loudest. My solitude was beautiful. My friends were on vacation, and I chose the company of my shadow under the stirring heat of Spain. I saw one old woman passed out. I was not in a position to help, so I walked away, to the century-old movie house where I watched a movie along with nine other strangers.

I placed a bagful of bargain shirts and pants on the floor of theater no. 4. I shall try them all again when I get home, I reminded myself. Shopping is exciting, but the credit card charge is not. Hahaha. Well, I needed them. I made justifications for the purchase, as an afterthought. I had to.

The movie played. It was not Oscar nominee but a movie that took my mind off briefly from the world beyond the century-old movie house.

I went home, took a shower, had my supper, and held on to my dear mobile phone for hours until the call of blogging beckoned me.

Random Photo. Taken in Indonesia years ago.

Once a teacher,

I suddenly became excited at the prospect that my blog, well, at least a post from this blog, will be read by grade five pupils. The Reading  textbook "English Encounters" co-authored by Ivory Sioson was recently released, where a 2013 blog post I had written appears.

I am grateful that the author chose it to be part of the book. It gives me joy and pride, at the same time. In short, I am happy. haha.

I did doubt my capability to come up with a schoolbook-worthy article. You see, I cannot claim I am an expert in the English language, when I spot and make mistakes in my work, and utterances all the time. Every time I get the chance to reread my old posts, I see an error. My hurried style allows errors to be made, and I leave it at that most of the time. So, when Ms Sioson, the author, asked me if I could allow her to use a post in my blog for her book, not only did I willingly say yes, but I also gave her the permission to change the post when necessary. I had known her and her sister, and I was sure she would do an amazing job. 

What I am most excited about is the thought that it could teach the users of the book something. I guess the teacher in me has never left.  Like many teachers out there, the desire to impart knowledge or skill is still very much out there. 

As I am thousand of miles away, I was only shown a photo of the page where my name appears. I was suddenly reminded of that rainy day that inspired me to preserve the goodness of that now faceless lady whom I sat beside with in the FX, for posterity. To read the post, click here. 

The author of the book sent me this.

From Ms Sioson's Facebook account

I have asked my sister back home to get a copy of the book. You might want to consider getting one, too.