day 19 - creative process

   My professor told me that in order for him to write, he needs to sit on his favorite chair and his feet on top of another chair across. He also need to be surrounded by great art so he can focus on something when he is tired and to energize himself by the sight. No wonder that there’s a lot of books and painting in every corner of his room. He also mentioned that Ricky Lee is riding a bus for his creative process by writing the things he see or the chattings he hear. He said some can’t write without drinking alcohol that brings them to their altered consciousness. Then he asked what’s mine.

   I don’t know but whenever i read something good there’s a chance that i will come up with an idea or something support my previous idea before i read the stuff. Also, when i am writing, i am annoyed whenever someone is in my room. I just can’t begin. I want to be alone. Then i’ll type my work. When i meet a dead end i often grab a yellow pad and go to my bed and make an outline of what i’ve been written and what i wanted to do next but when im back on the computer what i’ll write is different from what i wanted when i was in bed. Sudden changes occur.

   Sometimes when i am walking i try to describe the things i see as if im writing. Like the soft falling of leaves as the wind blew or the ants in line as they pass the cable of electricity and how they stop whenever another group of ants come walking their direction. Sometimes out of nothing a phrase pops out to mind and i’ll try to add something and make it a poem. Or a concept or a title of a poem. Sometimes the ideas just flew away because i never wrote them down and i just can’t recall the exact words or phrases. Sometimes i copy the concept of others and put my own words with it like the poem i made from the concept of Manny Villar’s “scroll” that you have to read it backwards to get the real meaning. Sometimes like ricky lee, but i dont ride just to get a material. I ride because i need to go to someplace. Like going to and from the school. I look at everyone and everything i pass as a material. The jeepney barker that jumps off the side and hold onto the window. The cigarette vendor. The gasoline boy that waits for a customer. They all have stories to share and thats exactly what i think. I need to come up with a better story. I need to be published. I need to be a palanca awardee. I’ll take it step by step or maybe half step. I won’t leap. I know i’m not good yet but i can be better. The challenge is very exciting. If ever i make it then i’ll believe that the continuity of literature is in my hands, and the writers of my generation.