I guess as an "artist" it's always about the moments we can catch and put into our craft that can define our art. Be it using your canvas and paint, your camera, your dance, your song, your facial expression, your words -- you want to be able to seize the abstract and make it tangible, however difficult that may be.

I've always wondered how it would be like to encapsulate silence. Is it ever possible?

Silence is a vague concept. Is it just the absence of vibrations and sound waves? Is it the calm before the storm, or the rainbow after the rain? What is it really, and why do we keep on pushing it away when we all know how badly we need it?

When you read a random quote sprawled on the jeepney dashboard and you feel a smile spreading on your lips because it reminds you of someone;

When you are watching a huge basketball game and for a split second everyone holds their breath as the star player releases a 3-point-shot attempt with 1.7 seconds on the clock;

When you see your crush walking towards your direction and you start to panic about what to say, then he nods at you and walks past you but all you can think of was how his smile seemed to blur everything else away;

When you listen to a new, undiscovered band's really awesome album and you realize you cannot turn the player off even after the last riff has been played;

When you're inside the classroom taking your crucial midterm exam and you can feel the collective anxiety in everyone who want to pass just as badly as you do;

When your parents start fighting and suddenly one of then stands up from the dinner table and locks inside the room, leaving you to finish your meal uncomfortably;

When you're talking on the phone telling how badly you want things to go back to normal and explaining your side but you don't hear him explaining his;

When you're forced to write something for a paper and you start hating that blinking vertical cursor on your screen that you've been staring at for an hour and a half;


These are what I want to capture -- the small, complex, but powerful silences. The almost unnoticeable and very minute quiet pauses that we often neglect but so evidently piece together the bigger moments that make up our day, our lives. It's like the comma that connects the clauses, the staple wire that holds the sheets of paper, the adhesive that keeps the bandaid from falling. Silence can mean so many things: a yes, a no, a refusal, an acceptance. It can be a powerful weapon, or an unforgivable mistake.

Sometimes I wonder if I can put silence in a little locket and keep it around my neck at all times. When things start getting confusing, I will unlock it and put myself in a little bubble, seemingly pausing everything else around me and grant myself a couple of seconds of much-needed quietude. But only for a few moments because too long a silence would be deafening. After a while I will open my eyes again and feel rejuvenated, like the Mozilla browser after being refreshed.

But can one really encapsulate its meaning without using the commotion of words, the splashes of color, the unruliness of sound? Wouldn't that be contradicting its whole idea?


I'll let the silence answer that for now, I guess.



[I didn't mean to get all philosophical tonight. Just something I've been thinking a lot lately that I needed to let out. Writers have moments like this, perhaps. (Naks, feeling writer na talaga!) I suppose it's the hormones. I've been thinking too much again lately. But then again, don't I always? And am I not entitled to the creative scrutiny of everything there is? I am, after all ,an "artist." Haha. Okay, I'm shutting up.]

I guess as an "artist" it's always about the moments we can catch and put into our craft that can define our art. Be it using your canvas and paint, your camera, your dance, your song, your facial expression, your words -- you want to be able to seize the abstract and make it tangible, however difficult that may be.

I've always wondered how it would be like to encapsulate silence. Is it ever possible?

Silence is a vague concept. Is it just the absence of vibrations and sound waves? Is it the calm before the storm, or the rainbow after the rain? What is it really, and why do we keep on pushing it away when we all know how badly we need it?

When you read a random quote sprawled on the jeepney dashboard and you feel a smile spreading on your lips because it reminds you of someone;

When you are watching a huge basketball game and for a split second everyone holds their breath as the star player releases a 3-point-shot attempt with 1.7 seconds on the clock;

When you see your crush walking towards your direction and you start to panic about what to say, then he nods at you and walks past you but all you can think of was how his smile seemed to blur everything else away;

When you listen to a new, undiscovered band's really awesome album and you realize you cannot turn the player off even after the last riff has been played;

When you're inside the classroom taking your crucial midterm exam and you can feel the collective anxiety in everyone who want to pass just as badly as you do;

When your parents start fighting and suddenly one of then stands up from the dinner table and locks inside the room, leaving you to finish your meal uncomfortably;

When you're talking on the phone telling how badly you want things to go back to normal and explaining your side but you don't hear him explaining his;

When you're forced to write something for a paper and you start hating that blinking vertical cursor on your screen that you've been staring at for an hour and a half;


These are what I want to capture -- the small, complex, but powerful silences. The almost unnoticeable and very minute quiet pauses that we often neglect but so evidently piece together the bigger moments that make up our day, our lives. It's like the comma that connects the clauses, the staple wire that holds the sheets of paper, the adhesive that keeps the bandaid from falling. Silence can mean so many things: a yes, a no, a refusal, an acceptance. It can be a powerful weapon, or an unforgivable mistake.

Sometimes I wonder if I can put silence in a little locket and keep it around my neck at all times. When things start getting confusing, I will unlock it and put myself in a little bubble, seemingly pausing everything else around me and grant myself a couple of seconds of much-needed quietude. But only for a few moments because too long a silence would be deafening. After a while I will open my eyes again and feel rejuvenated, like the Mozilla browser after being refreshed.

But can one really encapsulate its meaning without using the commotion of words, the splashes of color, the unruliness of sound? Wouldn't that be contradicting its whole idea?


I'll let the silence answer that for now, I guess.



[I didn't mean to get all philosophical tonight. Just something I've been thinking a lot lately that I needed to let out. Writers have moments like this, perhaps. (Naks, feeling writer na talaga!) I suppose it's the hormones. I've been thinking too much again lately. But then again, don't I always? And am I not entitled to the creative scrutiny of everything there is? I am, after all ,an "artist." Haha. Okay, I'm shutting up.]