Recovering from Feeling Like.... S.

On a cognitive level, I know that people are inherently kind, that people are just trying to survive, and that everyone has their battles.

On an emotional/instinctual level, the irrational one that's less prefrontal cortex and more amygdala, all I feel is that people don't have the best intentions... that... they hate me. Yes, hate is a strong word, but that's how I feel sometimes.

I'm recovering from it, but it's hard.

Little things tick me off. I may not show it, but my goodness do i feel it immensely. It's hard to separate thought from feeling, it takes a certain level of awareness.

I've done as much inner work as I could in the past decade or so, yet i still struggle. If that's your default "mode" or setting, you can't just turn it off one time and call it permanently solved.

Recently i had a trigger event that brought me back to this "mode". One can't help it-- we live in a world that will trigger us from time to time. We can't avoid it.

That trigger event felt like a wave and bam! I was back on self loathing island. I used that not-even-so-objectively-significant event as evidence that I didn't belong anywhere, that people look at me with one eyebrow up and that they've found me out to be unlikeable and laughable.

It got so bad i started breaking out in hives, had persistent diarrhea, and started retreating again from the world, cancelling plans and all that. I started feeling like absolute sh!t again (which i have successfully managed not to feel that much in the past few months), you know, literally wanting to crawl out of your skin.... crying every day (not all day, but at least once every day. Or is that what you call adulthood? >_<). Breathing was hard, BP high. 

Awareness has always been something i'm proud to have, but this time, my awareness reached a weirdly sane level... i was aware, i let myself feel, i was able to communicate to my partner that i wasn't in my best state, and... life went on.

Life always went on, but there was always a looming sense of... sense of desire to change how i was feeling. This time around, i had no desire to change it and make myself "happy". I just had a desire to want to go through it as smoothly as i can.

"Grow through what you're going through" - read this somewhere.

I think that's good enough. I hope so

I am a Woman, Of Course

 

It's March, women's month! Ended up writing a poem (?) as I was trying to answer the statement, "I am a woman, of course _____" posted by the Philippine Commission on Women (PCW) as an infographic. 

Here's the poem:

I am a woman, of course 

by Ivee Bongosia

 

I am a woman, of course

They tell me to speak my mind

But not too much

Or I’ll be labeled difficult.

 

I am a woman, of course

I must express how I feel

But not too much

Or they’ll think I’m unhinged

 

I am a woman, of course

I lead with confidence

But not too much

Or they’ll hate me for being bossy

 

I am a woman, of course

I maintain an OK body

Just make it OK, not too skinny, muscular, curvy, plump

Because anything too much is not OK

 

I am a woman, of course

I must balance home, work, hobbies, socials

And settle for the residuals of my time

To finally let it all loose and just be

 

I am a woman, of course

I should tell my story

But don’t make it too too long,

Or they'll interrupt mid-way with “Well, actually…”

 

I am a woman, of course

They tell me to smile more

But not too much

Or I’ll be seen as over-eager, insincere, weak.

 

I am a woman, of course

I wear what I want

But they say that too demure won’t get me dates

And too sexy might get me raped

 

I am a woman, of course

I am strong

But not too strong, OK

Don’t be too proud, too self-reliant, it’s not feminine they say

 

I am a woman, of course

I follow my heart

But don’t be too out there they say,

And don’t be too perfect, too flawed

Too settled, too unfettered

Too expansive, too reserved

As if being too anything

Might disrupt something in them

As if being too raw, too real

Might take away their ripeness

Their aliveness

But I am as alive too.

I am a woman, of course

I care, I give, I make

I've carved out my space.

And I exist as me.

Just like you.

And I will always hold and harness

What is true, good, beautiful, strong, and real

Because I am a woman, of course.

Written: March 2, 2024

(stock photo from Canva)

Bagong Paksa (song in progress)

 

Bakit, bakit hindi mo kilala ang iyong sarili?

Sino, sino ka nga ba?

Bakit sinisisi mo ang oras at ang iyong paligid?

'Di lamang ikaw ang biktima

Hindi pa huli para baguhin ang iyong tadhana

'Kaw lamang ang may kapangyarihang magbago ng tema...

Sino ka nga ba?

Sino ba ang bida?

Hindi pa huli para baguhin ang iyong tadhana

Malaya ka,

Pumili ka ng bagong paksa...

Bakit... (next verses still a work in progress) 

- Ivee (WIP)

What Happened to/in the Pink Movement?

 

It's been a year since former VP Leni Robredo formally announced her candidacy. October 7, 2021. I remember doing an improv HAPPY dance, jumping for joy, and announcing that she was going to win (at least in my head). Then my obsession with Pink shortly began and half my T-Shirt drawer turned ROSAS.

Oh, what a year it has been. And what a loss we took in May. 

We did our part, we volunteered, campaigned in ways that we can.

In hindsight, the MOVEMENT that we were in may have been pink, but it sure was very colorful.

VP Leni, our bet, represented so many good things, a beacon of hope for us. As a person, as a public servant, she was IT. She introduced concepts like Radikal na Pagmamahal (which I even wrote a song about, as it was too inspiring). She was calm, collected, and engaging with her volunteer campaigners and everyone, really. She had the track record. She was the next President, for sure.

However the Pink Movement is also a movement of people who are not like VP Leni, and that's the reality.

I'm not going to sugarcoat it any further, but: 

What happened to the Pink Movement? More importantly, what happened IN the pink movement (community)?

To be honest, I can't say it was all rosy. A friend wrote about this, saying that since it was a purely volunteer-driven campaign, no one was accountable.

Were we a bunch of good-willed people? Yes. Were we helpful and hopeful? Yes.

Were we at times condescending too? Yes. Unable to expand our own worldview? At times.

Don't get me wrong, I am a full-blooded Kakampink, and I really look up to VP Leni and everything she represents. But maybe I had my head submerged deep into the Pink waters that after May, when I breathed for air, I looked back and was also disappointed, mostly by many a Kakampink.

I know people who are BBM supporters who are way more respectful, present, and kinder than some Kakampinks I know. To think our "brand" was that of supposed kindness, love, and all the mushy things.

(I know, I know, a lot of the BBM-ers are condescending and downright mean too, at least the human ones. The trolls don't count. 😁)

It was a misstep to put our trust solely on good will & benevolence when we didn't approach things objectively and skillfully.

We were conducting activities here and there without really assessing the impact we had. I agree, Lugaw is symbolic. But maybe in these times of poverty and difficulty for many, there's no bandwidth to process these symbolisms. If you're hungry, there is no time to be kind much less believe those who seem to be kind but are obviously eating more than 3 meals a day. Right?

VP Leni was the real deal. But not everyone felt it, or believed it. Yes we had misinformation and disinformation. And that sucks. Yes, the numbers/election results aren't real, I know they're not.

But I am not talking about the results here. I am talking about the process. It's too late to point fingers, re-open or lick wounds, and wish things could have been better. We have the next elections to change our ways and be better, for sure. 

Win or lose, in hindsight, it was pretty messy in many MANY ways.

But that's what love is. (Haha naks, love agad).

Love is messy. Working with people is messy. 

I am happy to have been a part of it, and meet so many amazing people along the way, and witness the hard work of those whose intentions were/are pure and only truly wanted to help change the course of our history/herstory.

But as humans, we are not perfect. And that's it.

Also, no one could ever predict the outcome. But to be honest I never thought we would lose, really. I was 100% sure we would win, especially after witnessing how so many volunteers tirelessly did everything they can to win. Maybe this overconfidence made us complacent? 

We hyped ourselves up without looking back down and seeing who we've ostracized, whether within the group or not. We patted ourselves on the back for a Lugawan well done without asking those who attended, "Do you even like lugaw? What could we do better next time?" Then attempts to evaluate an activity objectively were met with backlash. And since no one was accountable and no one person steered the boat, everyone wanted to steer, sometimes to the point of it being an ego contest. When one group showed up  for an event, another group would be pissed and upset about it. Grown adults fighting for their rightful spot in the playground.

We had so many Teams/niche groups- "____ for Leni" so caught up in proving we were all so productive, when at times we were running around like headless chickens. More than productivity, were we truly cultivating meaning? Impact? Impact is way more important than Intention, I think.Some groups felt very exclusive at times; even within the Kakampink sphere, the Us vs. Them mentality was very much alive. 

We called the other camp/s dumb and stupid and yes some of them are, but maybe, just maybe, they're acting out from a place of GENUINE belief that their candidate is truly a good person? (I know I've done that one too many times- debate with people on social media). Not everyone thinks the way we do, and it's SO hard to wrap our heads around that ( Metacognition -thinking about how we think, which is a mind-blowing concept). 

Should we have appealed to people's hearts that much and broadcasted abstract concepts like Love and Light and sang about Hope constantly, when people just wanted to know if they were going to have a better life? I don't know the answer, but I just wish we toned down on the us versus them mentality and the "join us because we're a bunch of people who are nice and smart and Godly". No wonder many people got turned off. And don't get me started on rally attendees saying things like, "Hindi kami binayaran noh, lunch ko palang 600pesos na." How elitist can one statement be?

Ahh, so many things we did wrong, huh. 

One thing we did right was stand behind the person we believed in, up to the last second and even post-elections.

I am of course grateful for the year that was, and sad for what could have been. I can only imagine how breezier it probably is now had VP Leni won. But no, we have a president who is more focused on vlogging and going to car racing events than doing his job.

VP Leni would surely show up for the job, and would step up too. 

And that's what I learned from the year that was --- show up to step up. Showing up is hard already, honestly. And after the series of disappointments during the campaign period and of course the results, lately I haven't been adamant on showing up. 

It's done, it's over, and attempts to evaluate our own efforts should have been done during the campaign and not right now. Only if these will benefit us for the next elections, but I doubt that.

Or are we just caressing each other and patting ourselves on the back once again?

I stay in the movement because of the friendships (with a select few), though I am not so enthusiastic about whatever we're doing now. Maybe for now, the only way I can show up is to just be, and to quietly support our Kakampink friends. Maybe living the values that VP Leni has shared and shown, and the goals she and this movement have written, need not be exclusive to joining Angat Buhay or whatever groups we're forming. "Good work is service in itself"- I can't remember where I read or heard this, but I so agree. In whatever space one occupies, we can be of help and continue to work towards a better community and country (naks). 

I sure hope many BBM supporters now regret their decision, what with a lazy president, declining quality of life, heightened acts of impunity, historical distortion, and so much more, and I also hope that many Kakampinks will now see that being a Kakampink is more than just the Election results or the exclusive factions we've formed.

It's a movement we live every day, not when it's cool or popular or viral or may elicit social media engagement. It's time to rise above the pink waters and really see that all colors are beautiful.

Your forever Kakampink,

Ivee😃💗

(10/07/22)

 

The European w/ the Epic 471MB Flash Drive

 

The European with the 471MB USB

From time to time, customers at our food place would compliment our piped in music. Not to brag, but I do curate our playlist to match the mood of the place. Music contributes a lot to the ambiance and overall experience. I love doing it too, an excuse to search for more music and expand my own personal catalog.

The shop’s music collection is stored in a bunch of USBs that we alternately plug into our speakers. I recently just updated one USB to accommodate Christmas music (yes, we’re slowly crawling our way to Christmas so might as well soften the “blow” by conditioning ourselves through music haha.)

Recently, our staff said that a customer once again expressed how much he loved our music, praising one particular song. He asked for the title, but no one in the store knew. I wasn’t present that time. He and my partner chatted a bit and my partner mentioned that it was me who’s in charge of our store music and I was the one who could provide the song title.

A few days later, he came back to dine in again. I was present that time, so we chatted a bit. Let’s call him Fred. He is German who lives in Switzerland and travels the world for work. The dream life. He was in Baguio for a few weeks to conduct some business with the LGU.

I asked him, what was that particular song you liked? He said, it was a male singer, with a guitar, and the song is relaxing, warm. He couldn’t remember the melody though.

In my mind: Oh no, that could be any song. That particular USB is 90% folk/indie/acoustic.

Good thing he conveniently had a blank/empty USB with him, and I volunteered to transfer all the music from our USB to his (at least the USB that contained his desired music). We worked on how he would pick it up, as I had no means to transfer the music that night- my laptop was at home. He was also about to leave Baguio in 2 days. We agreed that he would pick it up the next day.

Funny how I even said, “If you want, I can give you all my music since you seem to love folk.”

He said, “If it’s not much of a hassle?’

I said, “No, it will probably only take 5 clicks max.”

He said thanks. It’s always nice to share music with strangers.

I made a mental note to do it first thing when I get home.

That night, when I arrived home, I plugged his USB into my laptop, ready to do those 5 clicks:

Click 1: Open folder of USB A (I keep a back-up in the laptop of the catalog in every USB. Music is that essential.)

Click 2: Ctrl +A  – Select All

Click 3: Ctrl + C – Copy

Click 4: Open his USB…

---- OH.

His USB’s storage is 471MB… that’s not even 5 albums.

Abort!!!

Oh no… how am I going to transfer all the music from USB A, when the entire catalog is about 2.5 GB?

How come a European from a Developed country STILL owns a USB like this? Hahaha kidding.

Funny how I simply assumed that no one owns a 400+MB USB anymore. Last time I had one was in college, in 2006.

If only I knew which song he liked, I would just transfer that specific album/playlist. Most of these albums are MP3s converted from 2-hour YouTube playlists, so 1 playlist file is about 90MB-120MB at least. And the USB had about 10 playlists in there, plus other albums and popular songs that didn’t match the description of his song choice. His song is definitely in one of those YouTube-to-mp3 playlists.

I didn’t want to disappoint him, but I also didn’t know how I was going to make things possible at this point. The first step I thought of was to eliminate/delete all those albums and songs that I was sure didn’t match the description of THE song. Next was to compress the remaining playlists. I went online to find an MP3 compressor that would turn 120MB files to 50MB ones.

Those 5 clicks I predicted that would take up a maximum of 5 minutes… turned into multiple clicks and 2 hours. Hello, Philippine Internet. LOL. Anyway, I would compress one file, and leave it loading, then go about my evening, then do another, and so on.

Finally, when all files were able to fit the epic 471MB USB, I called it a night, put the USB in an envelope, scribbled “for Fred” with a marker, and put it in my bag, making a mental note to hand it to our staff or my partner the next day to hand to him.

It was all worth it, because not only did he leave a Thank You note, he also left a bottle of Soju. He wrote that if ever my partner and I find ourselves in Germany or Switzerland one day, we should contact him. His email address was scribbled on the note too.

Two hours is nothing compared to making a new friend, for sure, who will hopefully enjoy the music wherever he is in the world (he said he was off to India next). Music in his 471 MB USB (sorry, it is now an inside joke).

We surely enjoyed the Soju, 3/4 of which I drank.

Any other person interested to have music transferred to your flash drive, please bring one with 8 GB storage space at least…

- Ivee (10/06/22)

You Glow in the Dark (Work in Progress)

 

You Glow in the Dark (song in progress)

She said you looked away from the sunlight.
You wore sunglasses, closed your eyes
Turned to the other side
It's OK, she said, maybe it's too much,
too soon for you to recognize.
One thing's for sure, she understands.
Sometimes we're too preoccupied,
feeling our way through darkness,
mirroring our own shadows,
nodding to illusions.

She's happy with an oil lamp,
a flashlight, a spark from a firefly,
all alone in this forest she's called her own.
But there is a glimmer from afar,
maybe a lighthouse.
Flashing by the corner of her eye,
waiting, a car on high beam.

Light is meant to be shared,
it's either now or never.
Even the dimmest lightbulb gives its all.
Darkness simply brings out your spotlight even more.
Can't you see? She can see that ...

You glow in the dark,
you glow in the dark.
Even from afar she saw your pure heart.
Within an armor,
inside a cold stone,
she knows yours is warmth.
A light that beams,
shadows forming a beautiful scene,
You stand out from the crowd.

You glow in the dark.

 

- Ivee B (inprogress)

Despite Sickness

Today, three friends and I visited the homes of two friends, both recovering from ailments.

The first one is a visual artist, who suffered from paralysis & heart problems last year. We're happy to see him painting again.

The second one, a crafter, suffered a stroke years ago and is still unable to move the left part of her body. Thankfully, her joyful energy never faltered, greeting us with so much warmth and excitement.

Seeing them today was a bit of a reminder of how fleeting & insignificant most of our concerns are, how basic things like the ability to move and carry out simple tasks should not be taken for granted. I am happy to see them both recovering, that even in sickness they try to move within their space, within their capacities. 

Friend number 1 is still painting, creating, despite the physical difficulty of doing so.

Friend number 2 has maintained her "loudness" (her words), her infectious laughter, and entertained us by telling us stories of her many interests, from bugs to Mesopotamia.

Workspace of Friend number 1

After bread, coffee, and stories were shared, my friends and I left our second friend with a bit of a heavy heart, that helpless feeling of not being able to change her situation. We decided to "process" our experiences over a bowl of noodles and bread. Most of the processing was really just us shedding off the weight quietly as we had our lunch. Later on, we asked each other - what was our takeaway from the interaction?

"Deepen connections, take care of each other," said one friend.

"Don't be too extreme or hard on yourself, everything in moderation," said another.

"We never know when sickness hits us," said the other

Aside from all that they've said, I'm also asking myself, "what are my perceived limitations and how can I move within this space in my own capacities?"

In a way, I saw that glimmer of empowerment in them, and how DESPITE these difficulties, they move, they carry on with their day, no excuses. This is not to undermine how hard their situation is, or anyone's situation for that matter. This is the situation, this is the circumstance, this is the condition. Now what? 

I read somewhere that we can only truly just show up every single day, with no expectation of perfection or control. As a bit of a closet perfectionist, this is a breather. 

We can't do it alone, we need community, and maybe that's a big chunk of the "now what" part. 

I just wish for them to get better fully, so they can move further and take up more space.

Let us take care of ourselves, let us take care of each other... 

- Ivee B (10/04/22)

Pag-Usad (song)

 

photo taken in 2021

PAG-USAD (song)

Natapos din, ngunit hindi nakamit ang ninanais, ang pinaghirapan mo.

Hindi lahat ng layunin ay makakamtan, 'di ibig sabihing ito'y walang kahulugan.

Maglakad at maglakbay, ikumpas ang iyong kamay sa pintig ng iyong puso kahit na...

Tila naisantabi ang layunin.

Nakapikit ang katabi at nasisilaw pa sa liwanag ng pag-asa

Ayos lang, hawakan ang kanyang kamay.

At magpatuloy sa pag-usad...

At sa iyong paglakad, ang daan ma'y mabato

O baka maputik ang tatahakan mo.

Natural lang yan, may daan ding aspalto

Huwag mag-alala, kasama mo ako...

Maglakad at maglakbay, ikumpas ang iyong kamay sa pintig ng iyong puso kahit na...

Tila naisantabi ang layunin.

Nakapikit ang katabi at nasisilaw pa sa liwanag ng pag-asa

Ayos lang, hawakan ang kanyang kamay.

At magpatuloy sa pag-usad...

-Ivee B.

When I look at the sunset

 

Sometimes when I look at the sunset,

I want to grab it with both hands and keep it in my pocket.

To go outside & breathe it in.

Because windows don’t do sunsets any justice.

And curtains can make you oblivious,

whether you’ve drawn them yourself

or not.

It compels me to be there for it.

 

I need to, I think.

I may miss it.

I may look the other way one moment,

snatched by a thought, a person, a worry,

and turn back around

only to exhale in regret.

The sun has set,

the sky’s pink-orange hue has thinned out to blue-black-grey.

 

Now you understand why

I need to chase it,

‘till I get to sunset’s end

and a door is waiting for me to claim it.

The claiming period is a few minutes so best hurry.

Or I may have to wait for tomorrow.

 

Maybe that’s what sunsets are here for.

Not to cap the day

But to give a preview of tomorrow.

If ever there is one.

- Ivee B

 

 

Thank you, Eyes

 

It’s 11.30pm. I am writing this on the last night of having myopia which I’ve had for 24 years. I will be undergoing LASIK tomorrow, a procedure that I hope, I know will change everything.

Yes, I was formally prescribed glasses at 13, but by then my eye grade was at least 100. I remember having difficulty reading things written on the blackboard as early as 10 years old. As a child, I was not one to tell my caregivers what was wrong, or express my needs.

So I just pushed through, thinking that blur was normal and I was just abnormal for having to move to the front seat of the classroom to copy stuff from the blackboard. Then came high school. One of my prospective schools required a comprehensive medical exam. The school doctor made me read the eye chart, and I could no longer recite the last few lines. She asked me to see an optometrist, and to tell my parents. I remember the feeling of first wearing my prescribed glasses at 13—wow, the world is THIS clear? I was living in darkness. Oh and only then did I have a clear view of the map of acne on my face. 

At 20, my kind cousin, ate Urice, gave me a powerful, empowering college graduation gift- contact lenses. She accompanied me to the optometrist, taught me how to use contacts, and guided me on how to purchase contacts on my own the next time I needed new ones. I got the monthly ones, which cost 220 per month. Since then I rarely wore glasses again, only doing so at home or when going on long trips. I kept a mental note to myself to always have a job so I could support my habit/need of wearing contacts. Add to that- contacts solution, and spare pairs, just in case. That was my addiction, or at least my "luho". Not that costly, but required consistency.

Contacts changed my life, and gave me a new sense of self-esteem. It was empowering as I entered the young adult life. But it also compelled me to be extra conscientious and sometimes fastidious. For instance, in my early 20s straight out of college, my first-ever job involved a LOT of field work in the Cordilleras. This meant bus rides and sleeping in homes in different communities. I had to always consider these two plastic things stuck in my eyeballs as much as I had to think about my job. I got used to it eventually, and the clarity these two plastic thingies provided helped a ton, outweighing the periodic inconveniences.

It was my litmus test for dating too- will you be patient enough as I conducted my 10-minute ritual of removing, cleansing, and disinfecting these two tacky things on my eyes, and putting it back on? Will you help me blindly find a missing piece in case I accidentally drop one on the floor?

One time, I accidentally dropped one of my contacts inside a drum of water, and an ex-boyfriend had to “dive” into the drum to retrieve it. The relationship didn’t last, because although he passed this particular litmus test, he failed in all others.

In the last few years leading to today, I’ve had “vision scares” – one doctor even tagging me as a “Glaucoma suspect.” One clinic in QC required me to undergo all kinds of tests, only to say, “Come back in 6 months,” with no clear diagnosis or next step. Another vision scare was me going on runs and all of a sudden not being able to see, because my contact lenses would wiggle their way to the back of my eyeballs. I got into a running accident in February because of this, falling flat on my face on the pavement, one knee completely bleeding, my pants ripped, and me calling to wake up my husband early in the morning to come pick me up. By now prolonged wearing of glasses makes me dizzy, as they're farther from the eyes and has a different prescription, so I can’t wear them outdoors comfortably.

In hindsight, throughout my “fully conscious”, mature-enough existence, I never really saw the world as it is, or how I think it’s “supposed” to look like. Is there even one way of seeing?

That moment at 13 in the optical shop, when I first saw myself and my surroundings clearly, it was an AHA! moment, a moment of me realizing that how I viewed the world was not only unclear, it was inaccurate. “So, all along, other people SEE differently than I do?” – I remember thinking.

Tomorrow, the laser will cut through my cornea, creating a flap. The flap is opened, then the laser will proceed to do its precise adjustments inside my eye. Ahh, technology. Beautiful. And slightly overwhelming.

I’ve never had surgery in my life, and I sure hope I will never need one. This will be a first. Just the thought of having these major organs, these precious eyes, cut by a human-made machine; and the thinner-than-plastic surface of the cornea oh so gently sealed back into place by the masterful hands of a doctor… is a daunting thought. My eyes will never be the same again, and I am more than grateful.

Thank you, current cornea. Tomorrow, you will be renewed. Something will cut through you, and you will be in different form in less than 24 hours from the time I finish writing this.

Thank you, eyes, for always attempting to see, even when it’s almost always hard. Thank you for adjusting and readjusting, for blinking, for crying, when need be.

Thank you for guiding, for absorbing, and registering this beautiful visual world unto my brain.

Thank you for being with me, and still opening up every day, even when all that’s greeting you is always a big blur - the ceiling, the people around me, the chances I sometimes fail to acknowledge, the changes I delay making… or myself.

Even in darkness, you try your best. Thank you, thank you!

And I can’t wait for you to finally see 20/20, or close enough, so at least there will be no need to always try so hard, to pretend to be conscientious… to no longer fail to appreciate what this life still has to offer, and truly capture what’s right in front me.

<3 Ivee

Joni Mitchell’s “Blue” Turning 50, and How this Album Changed Me in a Big Way

 

Joni Mitchell’s “Blue” turned 50 on June 22, 2021. I don’t know about you, but 1971 seemed to be a year when the musical gods and goddesses decided to shower endless inspiration to songwriters, singers, and musicians. There are just SO many great songs & albums released in 1971, well in the 70s overall.

I have always been an old soul and musically, moreso. Joni’s “Blue” album has always been around my space. I mean, I was born a decade a half plus minus after its release.

For years since college I’ve had files of Joni’s music in my old floppy disks (kidding, CDs). I don’t even know how I had them, I think my older brother Thommuel put them there, back when making mixtapes was tantamount to saying “you matter” or “sorry” or “hello”.

But I was only really interested in some Joni songs like “Big Yellow Taxi” and “Woodstock” and “Both Sides Now,” and didn’t care for the rest. Maybe listening to and appreciating certain types of songs require a level of depth and emotional slash musical maturity, which I didn’t have back then (I dont know if I have it now but whatever).

So years passed, I would sing Both Sides Now, Circle Game (which my musician friend introduced to me), and Big Yellow Taxi, plus Woodstock, but that was it. They were all songs, you know, songs you sing, you play, because if you supposedly like folk you should at least know some Joni songs.

One day in 2017, I was using the computer in an internet shop (the one at Porta Vaga which eventually closed. FYI non-Baguio residents, Porta Vaga is this mini-mall here in Baguio that has the cleanest 2^nd floor restroom in the history of clean mall restrooms). Our laptop at home was wonky and I needed to do some random computer work. The caucasian ( is it racist to say caucasian) guy two computers away was talking so loud to whoever he was conversing with online, almost shouting. So I put on the headphones provided (which in hindsight is kinda not the most hygeinic thing to do), opened YouTube, and looked for music to play. I cannot remember how I stumbled upon Blue. I think it was a recommendation from YouTube, or something that was auto-played after several songs, or the musical spirits possessing me to type “jni mitchl blu” (admit it you type like that too). I can’t remember.

But lo and behold. A Case of You played. And I just found myself... dumbstruck. I paused. Listened. Then I found myself...crying. Crying! Seriously. Right there in the middle of a sad old internet shop. Not dramatic-levels-crying- with-runny-swelling-nose, but still-poised-with-tears-gently-running-down-your-cheeks type of crying. Then I opened an entire playlist, a playlist of Joni Mitchell’s “Blue” album, and I ended up staying for another hour at that net shop.

The feeling it gave me.. it was almost like it carved a hollowness in my heart. You know witnessing something so beautiful it makes you both happy and melancholic, because it’s SO beautiful, it consumes you? Hmmm... so beautiful it’s limitless but then you can’t really do anything about it, except, witness it?

I don’t know what I was going through that time; maybe “Blue” simply echoed my current inner world that time, made it tangible. Joni’s voice in that particular album was tainted, or embellished, with something that’s not sadness but also not joy... not dread, not anticipation... not frustration and not celebration. Not the excitement of love nor the agony of it. She didn’t sound like she was madly in love, nor did she sound like she experienced unrequited love. She didn’t sound like she was angry nor did she sound grateful.

None of those.

So many things it’s not. I guess her voice, her singing, her music in that album... felt very impermanent, transitory.

Very nuanced, like...how everything really is. Unlike many if not most songs, love songs in particular, that would either say “I Will Always Love You” and “I don’t wanna miss a thing,” Joni said things like “All i really want our love to do is to bring out the best in me and in you too” and “I made my baby say goodbye” and “i could drink a case of you and i would still be on my feet.” (SO thankful she didn’t write, “i could drink a case of you and I can’t move" or something. Thank goodness she said she said she is still able to stand firmly.)

Joni's self-portrait

Listening to Blue the 1st time, learning its songs, eventually falling in love with A Case of You, studying and listening to it for a full year before I even had the guts to sing it, really opened new doors for me as a singer. Not only did I get to explore new singing techniques (for instance jumping from one octave to another, from two vocal placements making sure you stay with the pitch!), new guitar tunings (Joni has over 51 tunings), and new ways with words, it has also affirmed that we need to continue staying vulnerable and embrace our experiences fully, with no judgment. That's how Joni has always been, even in her personal life. She had her own struggles, had several heartbreaks, gave up a child for adoption in her young adulthood, eventually rekindling with her daughter after many decades but not having a great relationship with her as they were basically strangers.

Of course I do not advocate for that struggling, starving, sad artist image. We do not always need suffering to create beautiful, worthwhile, meaningful things. Also it’s not always about us. I’m sure Joni was and is not always writing about herself, as it would obviously be a limited way of sharing. We don’t know everything, and our filter won’t suffice to represent the bajillion ways other people filter similar experiences, like heartbreak, or happiness, or going back home to California (e.g. her song “California”).

Joni didn’t bother erase her femininity to look like she could rock. She was wearing these lovely dresses while out-guitaring, out-writing many male artists (ehem, Bob Dylan, who sounds like nails on a chalkboard, sorry. Many say he didn’t deserve the Nobel prize, and I don’t have any opinions about that, but all i know is my head hurts every time I listen to him sing. Like a Rolling Stone and Blowing in the Wind are tolerable but that’s basically it). She didn’t oversexualize herself too, not that it matters, but she was just...herself. A person who can write songs, who can sing, who can play, and she happened to be female. No biggie.

Vulnerability is a central theme in Blue, and not in a fragile, shaky, obsessive, neurotic, desperate way, but in a very self-aware and almost unapologetic sense. My struggle as a person has always been avoiding showing vulnerabilities, to appear normal and likeable. I’m the LAST person who will ask for help or reach out, swear. I always perceive myself as the helpful person, not the needy one. I grew up pretty independent, fending for myself and being left alone since god knows when, so I’m used to really taking care of myself, but of course we all need a little help sometimes, right? We all wear masks, for sure (and I don’t mean facemasks to prevent COVID-19 transmission). We need masks & mild pretenses to survive in a supposedly civilized society. What I’m learning in the last few years is to not wear a mask, but maybe just a translucent veil. It’s OK to be vulnerable. It’s OK to need help sometimes, to make mistakes and not carry everything.

What makes us who we are, whether artist or person, are these vulnerabilities. Maybe it’s what makes us relatable. Joni is a voice that sings how she herself made bad choices, mistakes, and had ambivalence over many things, yet she's OK. How empowering.

“Blue” is the album that makes you like it more and more every time you encounter it, like genuine people you grow more fond of every time you meet them.

That’s it. Genuine. Joni’s “Blue” album simply reminds us, me, that at the end of the day when everything is stripped, when there is no fanfare, no loud drums, no Facebook posts to collect likes and hearts, and just your voice, or your head hitting the pillow... are you happy? Are you yourself? Are you at peace? Did you hurt anyone? Do you regret your life and your past actions? Did you make the most of yesterday?

“All I really want to do... is to bring out the best in me and in you too” - Joni sings in the first track, All I Want.

May we always just wish to bring out and see the best in every person we encounter, and in ourselves too.

-ivee

{{{btw to celebrate Joni's "Blue" I did a tribute last June 22. :) }}

 photo credits:

1. Joni Mitchell's Blue cover art from covermesongs.com (altered)

2.  "Joni Mitchell self-portrait" by Jenny J is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

 

The Lost Art of Burning CD Mixes, And Other Niceties

Left- CD Mix from my friend Iza.
Right- CD Mix from my older brother Thommuel .
(I made Spotify playlists of both Mixes, available below!)

The last time I was at my parents’ house in QC, I got to rummage through memorabilia and things, particularly my old CDs- Mandy Moore, a bootleg copy of a live recording of Lea Salonga’s concert from 1990-something, The Cardigans, and other albums of artists kids these days probably wouldn’t care to know. 

Still, there’s nothing like those burned CD mixes that carried well-thought out playlists.

I have two burned CD mixes that I still remember to this day. 

One was this CD burned by my friend Iza, who’s one of the most musically talented people I know, and it just made perfect sense that she’s now a music teacher. She’s a multi-instrumentalist but I think I admire her most as a cellist and singer. I used to hang out and play music at her place a lot. She gave me this CD as a graduation gift (I’m two years ahead of her so when our class graduated she had sepanx. Agree, Iza?). 

The other CD was burned by my older brother Thommuel, who barely exists in the interwebs but I think he’s really just ahead of his time. He used to wear pomade in the mid-2000s when it wasn’t cool (he had to buy the lolo type of pomade at Mercury Drug that had a strong lolo smell), and he introduced me to Itchyworms and all these other bands back when they were first starting out (My favourite Itchyworms song is actually “Happy Birthday” from “Little Monsters Under Your Bed”). Kuya Thommuel gave me this CD to reaffirm his position as THE musical authority. 

 

I have other burned CDs from ex-puppy-loves, ex-loves, ex-friends, and friends-turned-acquaintances, but let’s not go into that. I still kept the CDs though, not so much the people. That’s how life rolls, people metaphorically burn and drift into nothingness, think End Game. Lol.

I’ve also had my fair share of CD-burning, which was both a treat and a task. I remember those days when dial-up internet made it impossible to download songs at home (well it WAS possible, but then your prepaid card would be used up by then. Yes, kids, we used prepaid cards for internet back in the day), so I’d go to an internet shop to have CD mixes burned. These CDs came with a free case and a printed copy of the track listing, usually in Comic Sans or Jokerman font. Gotta love those fonts.

Then came better internet (well, “better” in those days), better computers, better or at least more evolved taste in music, making it easier to burn CDs at home. It was common practice to hoard blank CDs that came with sticker labels, but since they looked boring I’d go for those CDs with printed designs (Tweety/Bugs Bunny CDs, floral CDs, and anything that screamed “I’m cool and unconventional,” only to realize everyone was going for cool and unconventional). Even with those stickers and designs, I think we always ended up just writing ON the CD, usually with colored pens. The CD Burning sages would advise against it; they warned that the pen’s chemicals could affect the CD. I guess nobody believed it because everyone was doing it anyway.  

From Reddit

Once the CD mixes were burned and gifted to friends and family, it was going to be either one of two things- they would listen to the CD, or not. There was a much higher chance that they would listen because unlike today where you can Google everything and pretend you listened but actually just Googled the lyrics, it was polite behaviour to listen. Well I never not listened, and probably still never won’t listen, but apparently some people nowadays won’t and don’t, but pretend to. Which sucks.

Burned CD mixes are a thing of the past, and that’s OK. There was just something about burning a CD mix that made you appreciate the effort, and made you say, gee thanks, I’ll keep this forever. I have the utmost respect for people who still do it to this day. I understand that many of us want to produce as little waste as possible, thereby going CD-free. But these days, how many people say things like, hey, I made a Spotify playlist for you, listen to it?

Thoughtfulness used to be a thing. I remember it was standard behaviour to always bring something when you visit a house, or send a thank you note or text after meeting a friend or acquaintance. I’d still do that sometimes, but without much enthusiastic response. Maybe I’m just a boomer, just too old-fashioned and left behind, but I think we should maintain these niceties. 

Niceties seem to be lost in the rubble of coolness and apathy, the haystack of hustle and grind, the murky river of influencers, endless scrolling, and meaningless “hearts”. We think we know people just because we see them every day on Facebook or Instagram, just because we chat with them occasionally. It’s weird how you always chat with some people and think you’re good friends, but the actual face-to-face interaction is totally different and underwhelming, maybe because you’ve exhausted everything and there’s nothing left to talk about or know about each other?

It’s scary to think that this is the future (present?) of social interaction, and I know I’m guilty of being on Facebook more frequently than I’d like myself. I refuse to accept it though, we should refuse to accept it. Not that it’s all that bad; these online tools are “tools” for a reason. But friendship doesn’t end there. We all deserve good friends and meaningful interactions, and it takes some work to get or maintain these.

Back in the day, the “work” involved little acts that build up, like burning CD mixes, spending after school hours eating fish ball outside campus, talking on the phone, writing letters, and really being present. Now it’s all scrolling and half-listening, user-friendliness (as in using people and calling them friends when you need them), and online interactions with short-term acquaintances who you probably don’t mind ever meeting again anyway. No wonder loneliness has been called an epidemic. 

We cling so much to short-lived but seemingly good “memories” thinking everything must be eternal, like keeping people that we barely have life-giving connections with. Eternity isn’t always good. It robs us of the present and robs us of more meaningful relationships and interactions to come.

But yes, burned CD mixes and niceties are eternal. Oh and as an act of love or at least a nicety, I’ve made Spotify playlists of the two CD Mixes from Iza and kuya Thommuel, all for you. Enjoy. :)

  

Click to visit the Spoitfy playlists :)

Spotify CD MIX 1

Spotify CD MIX 2