Two! Two Bobalus bobalis!

Wheeee! This blog turns two today! I didn't bother to announce our first anniversary because I don't believe in celebrating personal anniversaries. There are better milestones to celebrate, such as personal victories. (Although admittedly, for some, two people staying together for a long period of time could be a personal victory of sorts. Ok, I concede that much.) Also, I didn't know where this was headed, which now strikes me as silly. Why should that have mattered to a self-professed now/here no/where woman? Pff! And for the record, I still don't know where this is going.

But since keeping a blog alive is a personal victory for little ole scatter-brained, undisciplined, "this-takes-too-much-effort", but "let's-spread-ourselves-a-little-more-thinly" Me), I've decided to symbolically gift my blog with two, lovely carabaos.

(Because I love carabaos. I also just love the sound of their scientific name: Bobalus bobalis. It has a nice ring to it, don't you think? It sounds so... happy! So... self-assured! As opposed to... nevermind!)

Also, it's nice to know that I've merited some new attention from writers in the blogosphere! Thanky, Ian, The Spy in the Sandwich [that] Eats the Sun. And special mentions from new bloggers too! Thanky, Pandora. (See their latest posts in my Center for Procrastination, right column.)

Finally, since I'm being self-indulgent already, here are my favorite posts from my first month of blogging as the now/here no/where woman:

The art of falling with love.

The seasons.

Advertisements.

I also wrote my first two (and so far the only two) pseudonymous portraits in March 2007. Romannce and Manang Precious. I hope I manage to write more of these soon.

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Good mother, good academic?

I wrote this four years ago. The struggle remains the same, so yes, publish. And god, I so want to be over this dilemma. 2016. Yesterday I was proofreading my manuscript at home when the Little Big Boss came over crying. I had to put my pen down and console her. She didn't want to leave my lap so we compromised. We put her play doh on the table and I tried to work while she played. It went smoothly -- for about five minutes! Haha! The Artist in Residence is familiar with this scene. Starting when she was eight years old, she had to come along with me to academic conferences. She'd stay in her chair reading, or drawing and writing in her notebooks. People praised her and commented on how she was remarkably well-behaved. I had no idea just how remarkable her ability to sit still and focus was, until the Little Big Boss came along. With this one, sitting together quietly for a stretch of time is a much bigger challenge. The things that kept the Artist content at conference...

Lola of Maipon

It's all too easy to fall asleep under the blanket of everyday life and to smother dreams with the mundane things I surround myself with. But once in a while, along comes a sparkling vision that jolts me out of my daily sleep and reminds me of the existence of convictions and worlds so different from my own. "Our beloved LOLA of Guinubatan, Maipon, Albay is the last true messenger of God. So, let us follow her holy teachings so that we will gain TRUE SALVATION without sufferings and without death." In another story I, the intrepid heroine, the adventurer seduced by mysteries, the pilgrim in search of truth, would follow them back to Guinubatan from Session Road, thirsting to see and hear their Lola for myself. However, it's all too easy -- much safer! -- to fall back asleep under the blanket of everyday life, and to smother dreams with the mundane things I surround myself with. Then along comes 9 a.m., and really, it's time to down the dregs of coffee at the bott...

Cordillera Folktales and Story-telling

It was cold and wet outside on the day of the launching of The Golden Arrow of Mt. Makilkilang and other Cordillera Folktales . But inside Mt. Cloud Bookshop we were warmed by stories read and performed by the Aanak di Kabiligan community theater group. Storytelling on a stormy afternoon. Paco Paco. A Benguet story from the book, published by the Cordillera Green Network. Aanak di Kabiligan means children of the mountains. The theater group was born out of the Cordillera Green Network's eleven years of conducting workshops in which children transform their grandparents' stories into theater productions. Here they perform the title story of the Golden Arrow of Mt. Makilkilang and Other Cordillera Folktales.

Now/here no/where woman

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