Though I am blinded by life’s occasional flared lights, there is certainty in this inkling. I am on my way home. It’s like knowing that as long as you know where your North is, you’ll find your bearings stable enough to bring you where you’re supposed to be. I’ve taken the much longer route than most folks — wrong turns and hitting potholes — I’ve finally reached a crossroad that with just a flip of a coin, I’ve reached a more definite decision.

I am where I should be.

Trivia: Taken with an iPod Touch camera (MrTots) using the Instagram application as I was walking home from the train station one late fall afternoon in Adelaide, South Australia; April 2011).

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Trudging through life with the knowledge that this bit of space I occupy is lost in the colossal tract where a million of other folks, who are seemingly larger than life, with voices louder and more significant than mine, reside in. Sometimes, I wish to remain in the shadows, but there are times when I do seek to scale the canyon and challenge the norm. If only my courage won’t fail me each time I take that first step.

It always comes back to being someone ordinary wanting to be extraordinary; constantly failing, sometimes succeeding. Subdued by the ache, freed by the pen. So, thus I write.

I write a letter.

Dear kind sir,

Always a friend,
Sasha

Trivia: A little photo experiment on masking identity; Photo taken in Caleruega, Nasugbu, Batangas, Philippines; February 2011.

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Emptiness is often associated with sad circumstances. Loss, abandonment, purposeless, desolate, uninhabited, barren, no life. Though these have merit, I’d rather spend time supposing something brighter, meaningful and good.

Sometimes, you do have to empty your hands to be able to hold on to something new. Looking at things from a different angle, hollowness can mean boundless opportunities, anticipated fullness, a worthwhile future, and yes, a certain level of freedom for expression.

Once in a while, we go through trying times that will bleed us dry, forlornly empty. Cheer up and move forward as opposed to keeping yourself housed in melancholy.

Trivia: Photo taken at Caleruega, Nasugbu, Batangas, Philippines using my new toys: a Canon 60D and a Lensbaby Composer with a Double Glass Optic; February 2011.

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The strangeness of reality would often catch me unaware. Random events would come as a surprise even when there’s familiarity. Life, mine in particular, has almost always been oddly discomfiting — seemingly leading me towards a different direction each and every time.

Music labels each path I take. I allow it that much power. In the moments I spend alone, thinking and writing, it accompanies me. Affects my mood and pen. Inspires every creative cell in my being; reflected in my personal style, in my writing, and in my photos.

I’m finding more and more time for music and writing. I’m finding more and more time for myself and my thoughts.

A new road. A change in direction. In time, things will make sense. Music will provide the spark; inspire each time I pick up my pen, face my laptop or look through the viewfinder. Each step I will take will be driven, energized and affected.

How about you? What sort of music are you listening to today?

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“Maybe you’re just preempting yourself,” a friend had said earlier when I openly admitted personal theories on dating. I reckon my friend had hit the nail right on its head. It was a statement I couldn’t argue my way out of.

I make choices based on a drive to prevent an anticipated event from happening regardless if the outcome is good or bad. I forestall. I act in advance of someone in order to prevent them from doing something that I may not like. I interrupt a train of thought before it reaches its rightful conclusion. I replace definitions with my own way of understanding them. I do these out of fear of disappointment.

What is wrong with acknowledging the desire? Why is it hard to admit that I do want this desire to materialise?

Sometimes, I wonder if this side of me reflects on how I go about photography. Taking portraits fascinates me since I want to capture the magic I see in people’s faces. I esp love the photos I take wherein I get a glimpse of a side of them that I wouldn’t normally see. Greatly fascinated with taking photos of buildings, both old and modern, striving to catch the beautiful symmetry seen in the architecture. I love experimenting with angles and light in the hope to convey the very thing I saw while I was there marveling at the structure standing in front of me.

My personal theories ghosting the composition, photo inspirations and even the technique. However, this can may very well be another theory.

In portraits, I look for the emotions that run absent in me. In architecture, I look for the softness and art in something hard and unchanging. In words, one wouldn’t deem me made of stone. In stills, I am not as cold. In life, I am both.

Then again, I’m also starting to realise that there’s nothing to be scared about if I let things happen as they should. In fact, I now enjoy the suspense and relish in the uncertainty present leading up to the event. Facing disappointments isn’t as daunting as it originally was. To be quite frank, it’s been a difficult and confusing process but I’ve finally chosen to face and deal with my fears.

There is hope for me yet.

Trivia: Taken at Nuvali, Sta. Rosa, Laguna, Philippines; October 2010.

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I pick up my pen and I draw blank. I feel the minute coarseness of the paper and the roundness of the long, thin cylinder that holds the ink. I hear endless and mindless chatter in my head. But I still find myself at a loss, both inspiration and cohesion. I’m at the precipice of finding reason for hope and the logic behind the despair.

Having focused on something for so long can bring one to a state of disarray if suddenly uprooted. I’ve come full circle sans tangible output. I am reminded of how fleeting everything is.

I imagine myself standing at the end of an empty jetty staring at the edge where water touches the sky, wondering at the strange contrast of the unsteady surface of the waters and the soothing blue sky. I would end up lowering my eyes to stare at the planks of wood that I’m standing on in an effort to avoid drowning in the unfathomable mystery of the scenery or to mark the humbling sight that invoked powerful emotions and indescribable conundrums, accepting that there are things in this world that I will never understand.

I’ve always wanted to capture the essence of wood. Fascinated with it’s hue and texture and ultimately, how its death contributed to the rest of the universe. Its legacy may be practical in nature or a medium of art or, if handled with passion, both.

And then there’s this perennial influence of lines. In most of my photographs, though not often visible, I shoot with lines in my head. I take linear photos, as some may call it. Lines comfort me as it provides symmetry. They make composing my photos easier and perhaps even safer.

Now, the light. I take photos of light and how it bounces off the subject — creating highlights and shadows. Colour, texture, and lines are defined by the light. With light, I am able to create poetry in my photographs.

“If you knew what I know, would you try before your time has run on you and worn you down?
Would you know what you desire in your heart?
If you knew what I know, would you try?
Is there time to follow just one desire?
Is there time to follow your heart?

Are we as safe as we let ourselves believe?”

Trivia: Quote lifted from The Shade of Poison Trees by Dashboard Confessional; Photo taken in Nuvali, Sta.Rosa, Laguna, Philippines; October 2010.

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• Carved Memories

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Change that forges its way through and around obstacles towards its destination. Carves, reacts, erodes, and deflects. Creates art, sustains life. Resourceful and noble, an immeasurable and fleeting force.

It can adapt. We are only asked to respect it. It is infinitely wiser than we ever dare think it to be. It knows where it’s going and that’s where it will ultimately end up regardless of what it may encounter. You can try to control it, manipulate it, destroy it. In the end, you’ll realise that you may never lord over it at all.

Always with hope,
Sasha

Trivia: Photo taken on my way up to the ridge of the Mt Pinatubo Crater, Zambales, Philippines, July 2010.

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I am like a ship on a calm harbour. Assured of its safety, secured in its peacefulness. I am lulled by the gentle waves, as if without care to the rest of the world. My mind was on what I had planned to do in that harbour — everything except the plan of leaving. There were moments when I had wondered of the adventures that I would’ve had if I were to leave that harbour. And there were moments when I was sure that I’d have regretted the rough seas I would’ve faced if I hadn’t chosen to steady myself in there; never really knowing the extent of my strengths and my weaknesses.

Tides turn and the water, which I thought was safe and still, churned at the sight of God’s purpose.

“The waters saw you, O God,
the waters saw you and writhed;
the very depths were convulsed.
The clouds poured down water,
the skies resounded with thunder;
your arrows flashed back and forth.
Your thunder was heard in the whirlwind,
your lightning lit up the world;
the earth trembled and quaked.
Your path led through the sea,
your way through the mighty waters,
though your footprints were not seen.” (Psalm 77: 16- 19)

That was the moment when I realised that I trusted only the waters on the surface and failed to see the currents underneath. I have failed to put my trust in God and sought out my own definition of security. So when God touched the waters, I was thrown out to the seas, unprepared.

As rough as it was, or how stormy it felt, God had shown the extent of my weaknesses, stretched the reach of my strengths.

I also realised that God touched the waters of that harbour because He loves me. He’s answering my prayers; showing me the true meaning of security, genuine faith, truth about trust and, above all, love.

As hard as it may sound, God’s purpose is for me to go through the waters, the mighty waters. I may sometimes feel so lonely and desolate, thinking that God has forsaken me, but he will never let go. He will keep his promises.

As I hold on to God during this stormy time, one thought comforts me — that I am on the rough seas to gain Christ.

—

Trivia: Written 10 years ago, 05 August 2000 to be exact, with minor adjustments. Twas during my own personal dark ages, so to speak. Photo taken at the Manila Yacht Club, Manila Bay, Philippines, June 2010.

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To celebrate endings and beginnings. Memories and hope intertwined. Laughter and tears. Love. Sweet, air-in-your-lungs love. It has always been about love.

We were but little girls when we first met and known each other till we were women. This was all part of the dream. We both knew we all will come to this. At least, that was a common assumption.

That day sealed a thought. Terrifying, unthinkable, truth. I was never meant to go last. I was meant not to go at all.

Trivia: Taken while the bride, a long time friend, walked down the aisle at her wedding which took place in Alabang, Muntinlupa City, Philippines; March 2010.

Explore:

• The Pursuit of Love
• Anonymity and an open letter

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It’s fascinating to watch two-year olds while they go about their day. Everything’s interesting. Everything’s frustrating. Communication is extremely amazing. Yet their shortcomings don’t stop them from surviving. They learn to adapt no questions asked.

Looks like they know how to live life more than the adults.

This photo is one of the more softer looks I’ve seen on my feisty little cousin. I’ve always been interested in taking snaps of her as I try to perfect the technique in capturing her beautiful innocence. This is also my way of experimenting with Black & White photography.

Trivia: Photo of my 2-year old cousin, taken in my room; Paranaque, Philippines, March 2010

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• The beauty of being empty

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