The title of the exhibit fully exploits the power of words: the paintings and the resin casts serve as a whole journey not only for the viewers but also and most especially for the artist himself, Mr. Joey Velasco, who strives to see more of God’s light of love through his works.
From his first exhibit of paintings with real life stories as his chosen theme to this second set of magnificent creations, Mr. Joey Velasco not only establishes himself as a talented Filipino artist; more importantly he proves through his brushstrokes that it is possible for us to experience God in everything that we do for the sake of our brothers and sisters, regardless of time, resources, social status, fame, background, talent, or even occupation. He shows us this through his real-life experience as manifested by his beautiful paintings in vivid colors of paint, waiting for unwary spectators to allow them to leap off the canvas through the beauty of every story depicted in them.
And so it is. Every picture and resin cast in the exhibit of Landas tells a story. From a glimpse, it told me the tale of a father who strived to be the best he can be for his four kids. It told me the story of an aspiring artist who, in his own struggle with unwavering doubts and bouts with the Lord, finds freedom through the expression of God-given art. With a closer view, I was made to see through the eyes of invisible multitudes of suffering souls like his and mine- through the eyes of child laborers, broken children, oppressed farmers, hungry beggars, innocent prisoners, sick patients and many, many more who come in all walks of life. I was surprised to read through the soul of the artist there as well- his earlier queries of life, his plaguing dissatisfaction with life, the answers he got along the way, and the way he was inevitably changed by his interaction with his art subjects who inspired his paintings.
Having been graced with the opportunity to take the similar journey, I was definitely moved beyond what any reflection paper can tell about. I was reminded to lay everything down at the foot of Christ’s saving cross, to say, “Thy will be done,” even if it necessarily meant self-deprivation. It stripped me of my feigned callousness with my parental issues upon the sight of the painting inspired by Juris, whose hands seemed to reach out of the canvas to hold mine and my soul, reminding me to ask God in my every unresolved pain to release me from such bondage. It compelled me to reflect on my personal standing with God through my ongoing relationship with Him in my daily struggles and ask myself, “Is He still my King?” It beckoned me to turn my head to see child laborers who have Jesus as their ally, their Kaalagad who carries their sufferings with His own. It made me see strength in allowing others to love us, as much as Christ does. It reminded me to keep a firm hold on the most precious element of true happiness in life which secures us for life, sustains us for eternity and makes us rich beyond our dreams- Christ. It allowed me to go back to the simplicities of life which made me experience the grace of God in the smallest things- helping others, eating together in a simple banquet with my family, my classmates and my friends. It revolutionized my concept of compassion, which was defined by the artist in Mga Munting Simon Sireneo not as a ‘reaching down to the less fortunate,’ but as ‘going to where there is suffering and building a house there.’ It unraveled the beauty of God’s plan in every one of us through Raymund, whose imprisonment made him spiritually mature and close with the Lord. It rattled me with the reminder of Christ’s love for all of us, of which no other kind of love can come close to. It invited me to look back to the times that I saw God through the darkest of my moments, especially when my broken family background feels like a heavy cross which I am forced to carry. It lifted a smile on my face as I saw myself as someone functional and beloved in God’s eyes, convinced and reminded of how God is pleased even with the smallest efforts of compassion that I may do. It gave me time to think through the injustices of the nation and how I unknowingly contribute to it in the smaller scale.
But the painting that taught me the most was that of Shiran’s. The depiction of his hand joining Christ’s just before the nail is hammered down felt familiar to me. My personal struggles surfaced as I stared into the painting with silent awe. His story of courage and coming into the light moved me and encouraged me to hold on to the Lord through my trials, not to give up even when it seems like the only way out, and to allow my God-given friends to love me and give me emotional support in my difficult times. Recently I had a realization that I have a tendency to keep my problems and need for companionship to myself. When I suffer in silence, I unconsciously put up this thick impenetrable barrier between me and the rest of my world. I thought it was just right to feign strength despite the awareness that I am losing it. This painting drove the message of love home; it became the highlight of the exhibit to me. It told me to be strong. It told me to allow others to love me. It told me to shun off pride in order that I may grow more through life. It told me to allow Christ to be with me through thick and thin. It reminded me that I am never alone in my inner turmoil.
Past the hour of my viewing pleasure which turned into a personal mini-retreat, I then understood the true value of Joey Velasco’s paintings, the lives that sprang out of each canvas and the hand of God over all of them. I now perceive them not as a collection of art, but God’s message of love conveyed in strokes and shades. ϋ
My bestfriend is going to HK
Hey hey! Jrep!!! Mamimiss kita...waaaaaa you're going off again...huhuhu.
...yah right! Hahahaha! Yes!!! Mawawala na naman ang perwisio ko sa buhay!!! Wahoo! *jumps up and down* Yeah!!! Kuwento ka sa adventures mo! I don't know when you're returning, but I'll make sure I'm ready to call my agents to get rid of you...
...
Seryoso pare, mamimiss kita...it's gonna be a quiet time without you messing up my life...take care, I love you. :)
...yah right! Hahahaha! Yes!!! Mawawala na naman ang perwisio ko sa buhay!!! Wahoo! *jumps up and down* Yeah!!! Kuwento ka sa adventures mo! I don't know when you're returning, but I'll make sure I'm ready to call my agents to get rid of you...
...
Seryoso pare, mamimiss kita...it's gonna be a quiet time without you messing up my life...take care, I love you. :)
The absence makes the heart grow fonder
Hello my dear people...I am starting to feel the anxiety all the more...I miss you all. Kailan ba tayo magkakaroon ng gathering? :P O baka naman sa Baguio na ang tuloy niyan sa summer...hahahahaha! :P
Seriously after all the stressors coming at me these days, I am so left with nothing but an empty shell of myself...I just miss my days of naivety when I can just laugh around the canteen with you guys, eating Rippled and French Fries (tsis o babecue? hahaha).
Si Therese, may pic pa ko nung mas maliit pa siya sa kin...ngayon, dalaga na...nauunahan pa yata ako sa height. Hehehe. Si Tif, ayun mas lalo lang nagiging independent na bruha...at of course, mataas pa rin ang score sa akin sa boys ever, hahahaha (no offense!). Si Jrep, maggraduate na sa October! Si Pau, nagmumultiply account na hahahaha. (kip the entries coming!!!). :P Si Os, ewan...kumusta ka na nga ba? Busy ka eh, pero ayun, you're really growing up. I miss you too. Si Bern, ang aking one and only Bech...kumusta na!!! Tagal na natin di chumichika...baka naman pinagpalit mo na ko niyan? hahahaha. Si Shuri...hmmm...how are you? I miss our going out days...I miss you lots. :) Si Des, sana ok ka...tayo yata ni hersch ang pinaka nagkikita recently (of course other than J, hehehe). Hersch...still writing and shining, of course...I soooo soooo miss you!
I wish I can hug you all...nagkakasenti feel ako...hay...
Nursing sucks. Bsht. Hahahaha. Or maybe I'm just saying it coz I'm getting a burnout. But then again, she's my bitch anyway, so whatever, let me have it then.
Seriously after all the stressors coming at me these days, I am so left with nothing but an empty shell of myself...I just miss my days of naivety when I can just laugh around the canteen with you guys, eating Rippled and French Fries (tsis o babecue? hahaha).
Si Therese, may pic pa ko nung mas maliit pa siya sa kin...ngayon, dalaga na...nauunahan pa yata ako sa height. Hehehe. Si Tif, ayun mas lalo lang nagiging independent na bruha...at of course, mataas pa rin ang score sa akin sa boys ever, hahahaha (no offense!). Si Jrep, maggraduate na sa October! Si Pau, nagmumultiply account na hahahaha. (kip the entries coming!!!). :P Si Os, ewan...kumusta ka na nga ba? Busy ka eh, pero ayun, you're really growing up. I miss you too. Si Bern, ang aking one and only Bech...kumusta na!!! Tagal na natin di chumichika...baka naman pinagpalit mo na ko niyan? hahahaha. Si Shuri...hmmm...how are you? I miss our going out days...I miss you lots. :) Si Des, sana ok ka...tayo yata ni hersch ang pinaka nagkikita recently (of course other than J, hehehe). Hersch...still writing and shining, of course...I soooo soooo miss you!
I wish I can hug you all...nagkakasenti feel ako...hay...
Nursing sucks. Bsht. Hahahaha. Or maybe I'm just saying it coz I'm getting a burnout. But then again, she's my bitch anyway, so whatever, let me have it then.
I should really be going
OK, past four blog entries...now I have to go do my work. I have lots to read. I wish the Philippine Gay Literature book returns by the afternoon...or perhaps by tuesday. I need it badly for the thesis which will serve as my gate pass to fourth year and out of this college. Without it I'm going to fail.
*Sighs* I need to finish at least 50% of my to-do stuff today, so that later in the night when we go as a family to eat out and celebrate the first birthday of my dear first niece ever, Gracie, I won't be so aloof and thinking of work.
...
Maybe tadz is right about what she told me yesterday, more or less:
"Mag-enjoy ka naman, Anni. *pauses* Kaso kung nandoon sa library yung enjoyment mo, e di..."
...
Make me wonder. Am I..?
Hahaha. Nevermind...
*Sighs* I need to finish at least 50% of my to-do stuff today, so that later in the night when we go as a family to eat out and celebrate the first birthday of my dear first niece ever, Gracie, I won't be so aloof and thinking of work.
...
Maybe tadz is right about what she told me yesterday, more or less:
"Mag-enjoy ka naman, Anni. *pauses* Kaso kung nandoon sa library yung enjoyment mo, e di..."
...
Make me wonder. Am I..?
Hahaha. Nevermind...
Yani, Anni and the orange house
It was past seven in the evening. Just after me and my thesis groupmates concluded our meeting with another plan of meeting the following day, I typed in a text messgae intended for Yani, my firstborn daughter:
Yani, available k b nw?=) Txt
*Repeatedly presses the C button* Erase, erase...she might be sleeping in her dorm na...I thought.
I typed in another one, something similar, and sent it to her while standing outside the Main Library doorway. To my pleasant surprise she texted back immediately. We then met down at the lobby of her dorm and sat down on the plush brown couch to talk after a very long time of not talking about anything but studies and casual hellos. Then we proceeded to the orange house dun sa Antonio Street and had dinner.
I miss Yani a lot, especially nowadays that we have so much work at hand. I miss the time when we could just nag each other to play O2 Jam at Nitro on a lazy late afternoon, sometimes until the early evening before my mother came to fetch me. I miss the way we suddenly eat dinner together out of a whim and lots of coincidence, if there is such a thing, hehehe.
She is someone I can be honest with. When I stand in front of her, I discard my social masks and forget to put them on for a while...she simply makes me feel that I don't need to be in a masquerade when I am around her. She is certainly a rare find. I just pray that she feels the same when she is in front of me. She is someone I certainly wouldn't like to let go.
Later in the evening we met up with KR and Syrille talking on the nursing pav. As desired and promised I walked her back to the steps of her dorm with a satisfied smile. :) I thank God for the blessing of such fun moments...
Yani, available k b nw?=) Txt
*Repeatedly presses the C button* Erase, erase...she might be sleeping in her dorm na...I thought.
I typed in another one, something similar, and sent it to her while standing outside the Main Library doorway. To my pleasant surprise she texted back immediately. We then met down at the lobby of her dorm and sat down on the plush brown couch to talk after a very long time of not talking about anything but studies and casual hellos. Then we proceeded to the orange house dun sa Antonio Street and had dinner.
I miss Yani a lot, especially nowadays that we have so much work at hand. I miss the time when we could just nag each other to play O2 Jam at Nitro on a lazy late afternoon, sometimes until the early evening before my mother came to fetch me. I miss the way we suddenly eat dinner together out of a whim and lots of coincidence, if there is such a thing, hehehe.
She is someone I can be honest with. When I stand in front of her, I discard my social masks and forget to put them on for a while...she simply makes me feel that I don't need to be in a masquerade when I am around her. She is certainly a rare find. I just pray that she feels the same when she is in front of me. She is someone I certainly wouldn't like to let go.
Later in the evening we met up with KR and Syrille talking on the nursing pav. As desired and promised I walked her back to the steps of her dorm with a satisfied smile. :) I thank God for the blessing of such fun moments...
Anni is accused of harrassment and rape
Just this Thursday I got late for my first class in Literature. Of course, for fear that my great and admired prof Sir Hibek (who is old enough to be my grandfather) might call my attention, I just made my entrance to the class after his, only to find him standing outside the classroom door, talking to some of my classmates.
Thinking as always that I am not easily noticed among a group of people, I casually strolled down the hall to the other door of the classroom, until...
Sir Hibek: Penny...(as in 'appendix' wahahaha)
*Me, not looking*
Sir Hibek: Penny... (again?!)
*Me freezing and turning around-- imagine chibi anime*
Sir Hibek: *with arms folded against his chest, feigning arrogance* So, ginaganyan mo na lang ang Literature class ko.
Me: *strides to his right with my other classmates looking* Sir...hindi...I'm sorry...*grips his right arm with both hands*
Sir Hibek: *shrugs off my hands* Ay, don't touch me.
Me: *removes hands momentarily* Sir...noo...*hugs him tightly*
Sir: *gets shocked, along with my classmates who laugh later on* Aaaaaa, sinira mo ang virginity ko...aaaaa!
*Sister Vinoya, our sociology prof, comes out of the classroom next to ours in her active sisterly garb*
Sir Hibek: *feigning harrassed woman's cry for help* Sister, sister! Harrassment! Harrassment! Rape! Rape!
*Sister turns around to watch and laughs along*
Me: *gets enough of the laughter with my classmates, finally breaks the hug* But, sir...it's going to break my heart if you don't forgive me...
Sir Hibek: But you broke my heart by not attending my class... *followed with laughter by my classmates outside*
OK, fine...seriously I consider it my sad loss whenever I miss his classes because he's such a fun teacher with a lot of sense in his words. But it's such a dream come true to have hugged him because I'd really like him as an uncle or something closer than a teacher. If not for the age gap or the demand for distance and professionalism I'd like to go the extreme and be friends with him. Even just by being my prof, he has given me more than he thinks. Through making me laugh in his lectures, coining my nickname post-op ("Penny"), casually telling me to be strong, empathizing with my frustrations as a writer...he has inspired me to laugh at my storms in life. Aside from having the passion and talent of a writer, he's also an interesting character to explore...I believe what he's offering his students to see in him is just the tip of the ice berg...there's more, which is why I am intrigued and very much interested to have long conversations with him.
But then, that's only gonna happen in my dreams. Perhaps, when the gift of the perfect moment comes...
Thinking as always that I am not easily noticed among a group of people, I casually strolled down the hall to the other door of the classroom, until...
Sir Hibek: Penny...(as in 'appendix' wahahaha)
*Me, not looking*
Sir Hibek: Penny... (again?!)
*Me freezing and turning around-- imagine chibi anime*
Sir Hibek: *with arms folded against his chest, feigning arrogance* So, ginaganyan mo na lang ang Literature class ko.
Me: *strides to his right with my other classmates looking* Sir...hindi...I'm sorry...*grips his right arm with both hands*
Sir Hibek: *shrugs off my hands* Ay, don't touch me.
Me: *removes hands momentarily* Sir...noo...*hugs him tightly*
Sir: *gets shocked, along with my classmates who laugh later on* Aaaaaa, sinira mo ang virginity ko...aaaaa!
*Sister Vinoya, our sociology prof, comes out of the classroom next to ours in her active sisterly garb*
Sir Hibek: *feigning harrassed woman's cry for help* Sister, sister! Harrassment! Harrassment! Rape! Rape!
*Sister turns around to watch and laughs along*
Me: *gets enough of the laughter with my classmates, finally breaks the hug* But, sir...it's going to break my heart if you don't forgive me...
Sir Hibek: But you broke my heart by not attending my class... *followed with laughter by my classmates outside*
OK, fine...seriously I consider it my sad loss whenever I miss his classes because he's such a fun teacher with a lot of sense in his words. But it's such a dream come true to have hugged him because I'd really like him as an uncle or something closer than a teacher. If not for the age gap or the demand for distance and professionalism I'd like to go the extreme and be friends with him. Even just by being my prof, he has given me more than he thinks. Through making me laugh in his lectures, coining my nickname post-op ("Penny"), casually telling me to be strong, empathizing with my frustrations as a writer...he has inspired me to laugh at my storms in life. Aside from having the passion and talent of a writer, he's also an interesting character to explore...I believe what he's offering his students to see in him is just the tip of the ice berg...there's more, which is why I am intrigued and very much interested to have long conversations with him.
But then, that's only gonna happen in my dreams. Perhaps, when the gift of the perfect moment comes...
The Last Straw (and more to come)
Yesterday I did something I'd never imagine doing until it happened.
I retailated.
For the first time in my whole life I shouted at my brother for slapping me right on the face just before my first Friday class in literature. He did it for a very good reason. I did something so immoral and so unforgivable that he needed to take it out on my cheek.
I simply left the car keys in the car and locked the doors by accident.
*shrugs and averts eyes* Oh, I'm sooo immoral...
Of course I'm being ironic about it. I say lying, cheating and stealing would have been a better reason for him to just hit me. Why can't he just stop hitting me?! Come on, if you can't afford a punching bag, don't use me as a substitute, you insensitive jerk!!! This decade-old domestic violence at home just has to stop.
Usually when similar incidents happen between us, I'd just sit back and let him walk off. But yesterday was the last straw. Not that it was the most painful physical assault he brought on me (he was worse last year, and the years before)...but because of this experience I had a chance to compare the intensity of physical attack versus verbal abuse.
With the experience, I therefore conclude that verbal abuse hurts me ten times more, especially when he knew very well where to hit me- that is, on the most vulnerable aspect of my total persona.
...
Here's an excerpt of my incident report--
Brother:*slaps me* Utak mo, nilalagay mo na naman sa puwet mo! 'tang ina...
Me: *surge of anger, points a finger at him* Huwag mo kong gagalawin!
*momentary pause as he drives*
Brother: Isulat mo lahat ng katangahan mo sa buhay mo...sigurado, makakagawa ka ng libro...gawin mo ha, para di mo na uulitin lahat ng katangahan mo sa buhay mo!
...
Of course a tear fell...and another...and another, but of course I had to swallow the fear and just walk into the class with my invisible 'I'm-such-a-happy-student-who-just-got-late' mask on.
Bshit talaga. I never thought I'd ever come to this point that I could fight fire with fire...it's futile, and yet...I resort to it.
Pride? Yes. But I have to get rid of it. Somehow...
But I'm still not talking to him. As of the moment he does not exist in my list of significant others.
*closes eyes*
Anni, don't let him make you a monster...
I retailated.
For the first time in my whole life I shouted at my brother for slapping me right on the face just before my first Friday class in literature. He did it for a very good reason. I did something so immoral and so unforgivable that he needed to take it out on my cheek.
I simply left the car keys in the car and locked the doors by accident.
*shrugs and averts eyes* Oh, I'm sooo immoral...
Of course I'm being ironic about it. I say lying, cheating and stealing would have been a better reason for him to just hit me. Why can't he just stop hitting me?! Come on, if you can't afford a punching bag, don't use me as a substitute, you insensitive jerk!!! This decade-old domestic violence at home just has to stop.
Usually when similar incidents happen between us, I'd just sit back and let him walk off. But yesterday was the last straw. Not that it was the most painful physical assault he brought on me (he was worse last year, and the years before)...but because of this experience I had a chance to compare the intensity of physical attack versus verbal abuse.
With the experience, I therefore conclude that verbal abuse hurts me ten times more, especially when he knew very well where to hit me- that is, on the most vulnerable aspect of my total persona.
...
Here's an excerpt of my incident report--
Brother:*slaps me* Utak mo, nilalagay mo na naman sa puwet mo! 'tang ina...
Me: *surge of anger, points a finger at him* Huwag mo kong gagalawin!
*momentary pause as he drives*
Brother: Isulat mo lahat ng katangahan mo sa buhay mo...sigurado, makakagawa ka ng libro...gawin mo ha, para di mo na uulitin lahat ng katangahan mo sa buhay mo!
...
Of course a tear fell...and another...and another, but of course I had to swallow the fear and just walk into the class with my invisible 'I'm-such-a-happy-student-who-just-got-late' mask on.
Bshit talaga. I never thought I'd ever come to this point that I could fight fire with fire...it's futile, and yet...I resort to it.
Pride? Yes. But I have to get rid of it. Somehow...
But I'm still not talking to him. As of the moment he does not exist in my list of significant others.
*closes eyes*
Anni, don't let him make you a monster...
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