Influences (or Why I Write the Way I Do)

Natalie Goldberg (free-flowing writing)
Clarissa Pinkola Estes (wild woman writing)
Jane Hutchison (direct-to-the-point writing)
Ernest Hemingway (simple words writing)

Thursday, April 10, 2014

The Houses

In being on the road almost every week and the same routes to Ifugao, Nueva Vizcaya, Isabela and Baguio, i get to be familiar with the houses along streets and major highways. Houses tell a lot of stories by the state of upkeep and desolation. One house in Vizcaya has seen the best of times, ran aground by weeds and outgrowth, barely seen from a now rusty shriveled gate, itself surrounded by weeds. Then along Sta Fe, there's this grand 2 storey abode in peach, stretching about 400sqm with a patio, grand balcony and back garden. All these can be seen as the house hugs the entire bend up along Sta. Fe. In Bagabag, there's a house with a violet rooftop. In Lamut, one house has the names and profession of its inhabitants in a black and white banner that resembles an RIP tarpaulin for dead people. Houses beside ricemills are often large palace-like structures while concreted structures beside ordinary farms tend to signify wealth from honest efforts. Then, always, the pangs of sadness are felt in houses worn out abandoned. I think of the families that used to live there, how they were happy once, living in a new house. And I wonder of the human reasons why they have to leave this house, leave it this way. The many stories one can conjure on the road. Stories about houses, living and dead.

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