Living together, working together

"Every artist dips their brush in their own soul and paints their own nature in their pictures." - Henry Ward Beecher

I share the same birthday as the American clergyman and social reformer Henry Ward Beecher, but that's just a coincidence. I fully agree with him though on how painting can be a kind of soul work. Maybe it's why I stayed away from it for close to two years, not that I didn't tend to my soul during that period. I'd hold my brushes now and then or check on my paints, especially the acrylics, to ensure that they had not yet hardened. Meanwhile, my brother who lives in Canada gifted me with bottles of metallic paints on his last visit here last year. Those things cost an arm and a leg in the local art supplies stores.

Fourteen days ago, I began a work while I was at my Mom's in the lowlands. Restless soul that I am, I was at wit's end when the Wifi went on the blink. I used up the time to begin painting again.

I decided to bring up all my art materials to Baguio after the last day of classes in the little school where I teach. I thought I'd find the time, finally, after all the excuses I've given myself on why that visually expressive side of me remained "asleep". Too many papers to edit, too many projects to get off the ground, too many books to read apart from writing deadlines. Ho hum. Indeed.

Early today, I saw my grandchild, who just turned four two days ago, working with her colors on her own little sketchpad. She was a picture of concentration. After she finished one sheet, she colored another. And there was this enviable casual expression on her face.

That did it. I brought out my unfinished painting and worked from after lunch until the light started to fade. I didn't stop until I was satisfied. Meanwhile The Wee One joined in, trying her hand with my acrylics while I reminded her to use up her washable colors first before she tried my preferred media. I must say she was pretty obedient. She'd even give me suggestions, e.g., "Wouldn't it be nice if you also put faces on your flowers the way you put a face on the sun?" Had I listened to her, it would mean I'm such a pushover!

Thanks, Kai, let's do it again sometime.

Filling in the blanks and somehow getting somewhere

Kai brings out her own painting stuff, stubbornly refusing to look up to my camera as she does her own thing.

Wielding a grownup's brush. Beats me in terms of self-confidence.

Rolly, our critic-in-residence (a.k.a. heckler) with his usual prop, a bottle of San Mig Lite

My last touch: a thin, watery coating of deep gold paint. And now to think of an apt title.

Photos by Booboo Babeth

Fourth year on Planet Earth

"Writers, like children, are not dissuaded by the uselessness of hoarded ordinaries; instead, we cultivate a collector's sense, trying to capture mundane moments on a string of words." --Lorianne DiSabato

She's a happy four today, but the first words she spoke was an anxious, "There's a cockroach on my potty!"

Ahhh, the joys and challenges of having a grandchild in the house that is more home now because she makes it so (leaves her books in her grandparents' room when she has her own mini library, parks her toys on the office desk when she has her own play area, has two rubber duckies in the grownups' bathroom, etc.).

Sometimes my best alternative to staunching the flow of child's things is to take The Wee One for walks and slow climbs, morning or afternoon or both morning and afternoon. It's my way of making her energy dissipate at some point, then she tires enough to want some quiet time. At the same time her Booboo gets some exercise.

Over a week ago, we went sunset chasing again, but we made several stops along the way because she is distracted by textured rocks, a pile of sand, the flowers of Baguio. Like they say, life is a journey, don't be in a rush to get to your destination.

Follow this leader.

Chatting with the flowers and telling them to smile for Booboo's camera

She's a bit obsessive about things (like fallen pine needles) not being in their proper place so she removes them from the rock's crevice and throws them on the ground.

What child can't resist sand? Certainly not ours!

Selecting stones from the rubble with a thought (thoughtfulness) of adding them to her Grumpa Tats' garden. I had to put my foot down because we still had a long way to go and I didn't want the stones falling on her or my exposed toes. Next time I bring a recyclable bag. Photos by Booboo Babeth

My Camelot in the sky

Kai/Butones/The Wee One and I were both dressed warmly to catch another sunset in our lives. We knew how the temperature could take a sudden dip so we arrived at our special spot quite prepared with caps and jackets on.

Although the sun was so radiant at 4:22 p.m., when we reached our high spot, it was suddenly awash with gray--low clouds, fog rolling in, etc., the things that make the City of (vanishing) Pines so appealing to migrants like my family. These are the same elements that lured the American colonialists in the past to seek for their sweaty pale skin the coolness of a hill station. The Cordilleras' rich earth was (still is in some parts) a magnet for miners and mining companies with dreams of striking it richer than rich.

To me Baguio remains that special time-space continuum that allows countless others to come up and begin their lives afresh.

To those who love the Baguio that was, that still is and that, with all our hopes, still can be, here's my sonata of photos in the sequence that I took them, a vision of a sunset that looked like a moon rise.

This was a Holy Tuesday afternoon that was not entirely wasted.

Thanks, Kai, for keeping me company again in this city of my misspent youth, a city that hopefully will be haven for a graceful ageing.

Photos by Babeth Lolarga

Youngest food Instagrammer in Northern Philippines

"Apart from the known and the unknown, what else is there?" - Harold Pinter

So do I proceed to jump into and explore the unknown and realize more strengths or weaknesses in myself? Or do I stay put, keep still in what's popularly known as one's "comfort zone", the known? Either way, I will be taking risks.

I like risky ventures.

But certain times I also like the balance provided by the known on days when I'm alone and sick to my stomach in the house in the lowlands. Nothing supplies that balancing factor better than this photo shared by my oldest daughter Kimi. It's The Wee One playing food Instagrammer on one of the family's eat-out days.

Hello Kai, formerly Butones. Your Booboo is zipping back to your loving arms in a few more days. Hurry Thursday! I need Kai's sunshine in my life again!

Who else but a mother can take the cutest photo of her child? All because Kai's Mamay is the most familiar with the face's structure and best angles. Photo by Kimi Fernandez

The doctor is in the house

Our version of Doc McStuffins arrived yesterday. I realized how tall she has grown when I learned she could reach up and press the doorbell. When she hugged me, I felt I was hugging a big child from her strong squeeze as she hugged me back. But she still loves to play pretend. Her Granny Su (my sister Suzy) brought out the stuffed toys and that kept The Wee One busy for awhile.

She didn't bring her toy medical kit in her luggage from Baguio. So the real doctor in the house, her Lolo Doc Dennis, lent his stethoscope, Granny Su her magnifying glass and mini flashlight, and off she flew with her imagination. She looked at Suzy's hand and diagnosed, "You have a splinter!" You can imagine how proud her Booboo was at her growing vocabulary. Photos by Booboo Babeth

Swingtime

"If you surrender completely to the moments as they pass, you live more richly those moments." - Anne Morrow Lindbergh

I have realized that my blog has also become a grandmother's scrapbook/journal/photo album of The Wee One's development from birth to departure from toddlerhood. I've saved in a box some of the cards that went with her presents, the table tags that accompanied her mother Kimi's baby shower, her doodles, etc. But I can't seem to find the time to do that collage scrapbook I used to enjoy doing when my own children were growing up--their times of your lives books of remembrances.

Blogging about this child in my life is quicker and response time just as fast with comments on how she has grown, how her verbosity is a sign of how loved she is because she is a confident speaker. She'll even put her hand over your mouth if you've spoken way too much, and she wants her turn to render an opinion or continue a story.

When I'm in Baguio, we go on walks in our not too populous neighborhood. We're lucky when the playground doesn't have the holiday crowd of kids making a beeline for the playground. That's when The Wee One has the swing to herself. All she needs is a strong push and what follows is a delighted "Wheeee!" A living example of one who enjoys the moment!

Photos by Booboo Babeth

Toddler joys

"A joyful heart is good medicine." - Proverbs 17:22

And that's what The Wee One is gifted with, a joyful heart that has somehow kept her immune system up and strong despite Baguio's below 20-degree temperature.

She recently told her Manila-bound mother that she really didn't care for toys as pasalubong on the latter's return. It's a roundabout way of telling Kimi to hurry back!

My being a stay-home granny during the recent Christmas holidays allowed me to take stolen shots of Kai. It's becoming harder to coax her to pose, and it all depends on her mood at the moment. Most times, she'd cover her face or pretend she's asleep or turn her back so she can focus on playing by her lonesome which she doesn't seem to mind. She puts her heart into group play, too, and isn't shy anymore when faced with other kids as wee as her.

No, she won't budge for a photo beside the Christmas tree at Mario's Restaurant on Christmas. Later, she concedes but a lot of combination bribes and threats had to done to get her to pose for a family portrait. Photos by Booboo Babeth

What I like is when she quietly does her own thing. Her mother thinks that Kai's preferred form of play--classifying colors and arranging her toys neatly according to colors--is already bordering on obsessive-compulsive behavior.

Look at what she did with these beads. Having mastered stringing them into necklaces, she arranges them in precise order with such concentration.

The OC in The Wee One at work

Joy of the child and of the poet

The Wee One and her Booboo by the village gate's Christmas display Photo by Kimi Fernandez

"And the true realism is that of the poets: to find out where joy resides, and give it a voice far beyond singing. For to miss the joy is to miss all." - Robert Louis Stevenson

Today's entry will be brief so I can return to merry-making, including one-on-one communicating with those I forgot in my Christmas e-list. Every time the adults bring The Wee One (Kai, formerly Butones) to a Christmas get-together, her excitement is contagious. Last night, en route to a Christmas Eve dinner, she pointed out the lights sparkling many homes and establishments along the highway and narrow roads. She gushed, "How pretty! How twinkly!"

Yes, Christmas is for children. After all it is Baby Jesus's birthday. Kai even remembered to mention that this morning. May the remaining days of 2014 continue to be merry and bright. If you must drink, do it responsibly. This is Kai's grandmother speaking.

'By herself' with some assist

In-house resident of this blog, The Wee One, runs her finger on the bark of a pine tree

I haven't done passable research on this Noviembre activity in some parts of the blogging world. Its acronym is NaBloPoMo, short for National Blog Posting Month wherein bloggers commit themselves to post daily entries for the entire month. End result: 30 posts for those 30 days. I was remiss on Nov. 2 but tried to make up by posting two entries yesterday (it's my cheat sheet because these were virtually photo captions or extended captions).

Since I don't seem to run out of topics to blog about as far as the subject in residence on this space is concerned, I'd like to observe how she's teaching herself to connect that letters put together have meaning. Lately, she has been spelling out her short name "Kai" (and that of her Booboo and her mother Kimi) orally and in written form, whether on her mini-blackboard or any sheet of paper. When she sees spines of books, she singles out the letters "K", "A" and "I" wherever these can be found, including cookbooks.

She knows how a bee looks and sounds like. One day she encountered the word on a car plate in the neighborhood. She's getting there. "By herself" as she likes to claim these increments of achievement.

When car plate becomes a learning tool Photos by Babeth Lolarga