Note Worthy

I love paper. Take me to a store that sells it in any form and I'm a happy camper.

My bag - any bag I carry - will most certainly contain at least one blank book.  The one I lug to work everyday holds two: a pretty ordinary steno pad where I jot down ideas that come from nowhere and a nice, formal looking blank journal that contains insights about my day, random words of wisdom, rants and pages and pages of sketches and little collages. Even the little clutch purse I bring with me to the grocery has a small top-bound spiral notebook in it.

So it was to my great delight that I came upon these lovelies from Free Verse Paperie while checking out the great handmade sellers at the Bazaar Love Triangle on Timog Avenue. Adorable, no?

Handmade by cute couple Eis Manguito and Louie Gutierrez , these little blank books measuring 5 1/4 inches high by 4 inches wide are just the thing to tuck in your purse and make for a quick fix for journaling addicts who would rather not carry their large journals all over the place with them.  In fact, that's exactly what this duo want to inspire in people -- to start journaling and maybe doodling in a little cartoon or two.  Two thumbs up for that!

The mini-journals (you call them notebooks, I call them journals -- same-same) are covered with beautifully patterned scrapbook background papers that Eis and Louie source from abroad. The blank pages invite you to leave your mark and have just the right thickness for some guerilla doodling or writing.  And what about that cute ribbon that you can tie up to keep your little journal closed? Best of all, they're almost ridiculously inexpensive - so I'm going to stock up.  They'd make perfect little giveaways for Christmas, a nice inclusion in a grade-schoolers birthday loot bag (yes, I think we should encourage children to write) or these would make great souvenirs for a wedding!

You can also turn these little babies into mini-scrapbooks! Imagine lolo or lola's smile when they receive a mini-album of bunso's baby photos or pictures of Ate or Kuya's first day at school.  Your little one can even scribble in his or her own little drawings or a sweet note for them.  

I just love the texture of the cream colored blank pages.  For a paper addict, this is like ice cream and cake and chocolate and silk rolled into one.  There are also blank books with white pages so if vanilla is more your style, then those are for you. Eis had a few hardbound blank journals on display as well and she says that they will be offering these soon.  The hardbound journals are also covered in pretty paper - designed by Eis, who certainly has an eye for pattern and color. 

I  especially like this one  - the floral pattern and the color palette gave the mini-journals a vintage, art-decoey look.

What can I say? I'm a sucker for orange and blue.

I almost hemorrhaged to death trying to pick which ones I liked best.   In the end, I picked seven (I already gave away two -- one to my daughter, the other to my assistant who is also a blank book addict) and I am sorry I didn't get more.  Never, ever, ever let a girl who loves paper loose among things such as these blank journals.

If you're like me and you only stop talking so you can write or doodle, visit Free Verse Paperie on Facebook.

Wishcasting Wednesday: What Do You Wish for Your Health?

So here I sit yawning. It has been a hectic 6 months -- yes, January started off with a bang. Just not the kind I like.  And I have been working myself ragged and it is sneaking up on me and I find myself yawning more than I care to.

Sleep -- aahhh. Magickal word that one. The endless parade of tasks to finish never leave me and I sometimes dream of them. Not a good sign. One should dream to heal, not to torture oneself some more.  And the nights the Sandman forgets to visit are coming more often and I don't like it.  Sleep, for the past 6 months, has consisted of short bursts of half-conscious  tossing and turning and long bouts of frustrating wakefulness.

I wish to have time to rest and heal.  My body is no longer what it was and I feel it. My mind continually strays to some black hole and there are moments when I can't even remember what word I was going to say.  But I can go back to the way it was I am sure.

I wish that each cell in my body be touched by the healing energy I need so badly. I wish that loving energy reach inside me too - so that all the parts that continue to bleed from wounds I hide will be well and I can move forward confident that a long, blissful life awaits me.

On Some Days I Do This

There are days when I make jewelry.  And then there are days when I sit and stare and stare some more and come up with nothing.

This one was made on one of the good days.

And I have found that as I let go of what I think people expect me to create, the good days come more often.  It's about that isn't it -- letting go and just letting the image manifest. The voices in your head will tell you it's not good enough but you go ahead and finish because the pounding in your heart as your hands fashion something out of blank canvass and paint, clay, paper, metal and bits of wire and shiny gemstones is louder than the naysaying.

I have days like that.  They can be addicting.

Are We Dead Yet?

The world was supposed to end yesterday.  Harold Camping said it would. 

It’s Sunday and I’m posting this so I don’t think it did.

On the day the world was supposed to end, I sat at the office working on stuff that would never, ever contribute to world peace.  Or help bring back ecological balance.  Or arrest poverty.  Or even help ease traffic in the city by just a teeny-weeny bit.

And while I sat there amidst the piles of paper that are exact duplicates of piles of paper in another office in another country,  I listened intently for that first, almost imperceptible crack that would herald a major, mega-mega earthquake, or the first pitter-pat of rain that would come before an  Ondoy multiplied by a million times,   or a screeching in the distance followed by loud explosions – oops, asteroid drop.

They never came. 

In fact, the day was so – well, ordinary – that I managed to finish so much work in half the time it usually takes me, giving me a few hours to mull over my (as of yet) insignificant existence and motley contribution to what we call “humanity”. 

I started by mulling over what I would do if it became apparent that the world was indeed going to end.  Here’s what my brain came up with:

I would try to get home. 

If Chicken Little came running into my office declaring that the sky was falling, I would want to be crushed by it while surrounded with the people I love.  I’d run, jump, skip over debris and bodies, swim against a roaring current, march valiantly against violent winds just to get home and be with my family.  Being found buried under piles of useless paper and concrete is not my idea of a graceful death.  Besides, who would yell at my kids and tell them to stay indoors and quit playing tag with the fiery hailstones falling from the sky?

b)      I would tell everyone I love just how much I love them – and everyone I hate exactly how I feel.

It would be liberating to just go up to someone I totally dislike and tell them to their face: “The world is ending and you s*(&ck!”.  But then knowing how I am, I’d probably just watch the earth swallow them up, a cigarette in my free hand (one hand will be clinging to the tree branch that’s keeping me from falling down the hole with them  – don’t ask me how I got the cigarette lighted, okay?).   However, saying that to them at that exact moment may not have the impact I’d want – they’d be too busy trying not to get killed to care.  Wasted energy.

So,  after much thought, I’d probably just go with a group hug and tell everyone I love just how much they mean to me.  And maybe promise my dad that I will finally quit smoking.

c)   

       If, for some strange reason, I survive, I will curb the attempt to think that I must have a special purpose since I was spared.

Putting too much meaning into the random luck of being missed by a meteor or a falling wall could get me into a delusional state preventing me from doing work that must be done – like helping everyone else who survived live a little longer.   Thinking I’m special because I was spared won’t do much when everyone else is thinking the same.   Someone needs to take out the garbage. 

d)      I’d stock up on painkillers – if I can find them.

I’m a patsy for pain. I can’t stand it.  'Nuff said.

e)     I’d find a way to stock food and water.

Wouldn’t last long without these now, would we?  But just thinking of having a diet of corned tuna salvaged from whacked out cans for days makes me cringe.   I’m certainly no Marianne Rivera.   

f)      If it’s safe (meaning there are no zombies walking around waiting to turn me into dinner), I’ll take a walk around our neighborhood.

Might be a good idea to check which of my neighbours made it.  After all, when the zombies do come, we need to fight them together - unless of course they’ve been turned into zombies themselves.

I think it would be good to know who I will be living next to post-apocalypse.  It would also be a good time to get organized and come up with ways to ride out the early days together.

g    I would go check which of my books made it.

When the sky falls, I assume the Internet would be wiped out.  And the books I have hoarded all these years would be even more valuable to me.

Find a quiet spot to sit and thank the Universe for all I have – no matter how little it seems.

I may have lost my home, my possessions, and other stuff I’ve kept all these years that my grandma used to point to and say “Apo, you can’t take those with you when you die”.  But I would still have my family (there is NO WAY I would let anything happen to them) and I’d still have my wits about me and most importantly, I would still have faith and hope that all this is temporary.

The world didn’t end yesterday.

Now get back to work.

Day Two

I wonder if I will get to Day 3.  There's this rumor going around that the world ends on May 21st and that the meltdown starts at 6:00 p.m. Well, it's past midnight where I am so that gives me a little less than 18 hours to get my act straightened up. Geesh, I hate being rushed.

I'll let you know tomorrow if I made it.

Day One

What am I doing starting another blog? Don't I have enough to do yet?

I'd rather not answer that.

Well, yeah - I WILL answer that. I have enough to do but a lot of them are NOT what I would like to do.

And what is it that I really like to do?

It depends.

What day is it?