Hesitation to use the I may be a tell-tale sign that the I does not know itself fully. Or maybe the I doesn’t know which I, of the many different Is, to use. In any case, there is an I. And there is a You. The You is validated by the I. There couldn’t be a You without the I. But the I also becomes a You through the validation of I through You. And so, the I also exists thanks to You. And so to You who is reading this confused speech of I, THANK YOU. I's existence has become meaningful because of You.______________________________
This blog won't pretend to be hilariously funny or witty or beautiful or profound. But it is an indulgence of all sorts of things that appeal to my senses. Anything I find funny, witty, beautiful, meaningful and worth noticing is found here._______________________________
My Lakbayan grade is C!
How much of the Philippines have you visited? Find out at Lakbayan!Created by Eugene Villar.
“When we love a wanderer,
Edith Tiempo, “Between Living” (via proseprunings)
We wait for footsteps
That may, or may not, come:
First the hours-the days-
Then-years. Then, never.
Yet always we do know
Whereof we wait:
The creaking gate
The scraping on the steps
And at the door the level gaze;
For these we wait to know
The roving one is home.”
“If you want to build a ship
don’t herd people together to collect wood
and don’t assign them tasks and work,
but rather teach them to long for the
endless immensity of the sea.”
- Antoine de Saint-Exupery
MANILA, Philippines - Edith Tiempo, widely acknowledged as the Mother of Philippine Literature, reportedly died on Sunday. She was 92.
She was conferred the National Artist Award for Literature in 1999.
“National Artist for Literature Edith Tiempo passed away at 92,” ABS-CBN Northern Mindanao reporter Rod Bolivar said on microblogging site Twitter on Sunday night.
Together with her husband, Tiempo founded the Silliman National Writers’ Workshop in Dumaguete City.
Some of her works include novels A Blade of Fern, His Native Coast and One, tilting leaves, short story Abide, Joshua and Other Stories, and The Tracks of Babylon and Other Poems, among others.
The world is a lesser place.
“It’s utter sublimation,
A feat, this heart’s control
Moment to moment
To scale all love down
To a cupped hand’s size”
—Edith Tiempo, “Bonsai”
I’m sad. :( And yet, thankful for the legacy that she has left.