Musings at work

When there's no job to be accomplished, you pray for one. 

When there's a lot of job to be accomplished, you pray for none. 

Isn't it funny?

Angry

Something marvelous happened on September 22, 2016.

Apparently, an office document I mailed to our office was missing. How could that be, when I double checked before sending the file?

I was aghast.

Did I forget to mention I was angry as well?

This is not the first time a document went missing interim to our main office.

I sent a very important document six months ago, and it got lost in that same building.

For the love of God.... we are all human. We err.

I've had instances where I lost documents too. So this might probably just another case of projection.

Good thing I had another original file which I kept. I photocopied it and sent the original to them.

It's so easy to blame people and ask them to fix problems when they screw up.

I was at that point. That point where all I wanted was to blame...

And then it clicked.

Blaming doesn't solve anything.

But looking for a solution does.

I quickly created the solution before I finally had a chance to reflect on what happened.

Where did it go wrong?

The problem could have been between me, the courier, and the receiver.

To make things short...

I had to improve my document system tracking.

that was the only way to prevent this fiasco again.

Yes, I was just frustrated because of the situation. but... isn't life always like that? You're expecting it to go smoothly, but it goes a wrong turn.

sigh.

the hidden gem in this situation is that my document tracking system still has loopholes. and you totally can't depend on the system.

Break the Routine: Creating Art without Lineart

Lineart is my God. 

I always work with lineart, ever since I held a pencil with my hand.

.....

well,

Let's break a routine, shall we?

Armed with the Polygonal Lasso Tool, I drew a bunch of shapes and filled it with "Alt+Del".

and no, I did not refer to any Color wheel and color palette. 

My sense of color sucks, I know, but... this is an experiment, remember?

What if I put a yellow gradient and set it you "Lighten" mode?

"Oh, it looks pretty!"

"Damn, I can't appreciate the other colors."

......

Good job, Nurj. 

Let's continue to break more routines.

Break the Routine: Simple Icons

There are things I would have never contemplated on creating as a young girl.

I was, after all, very much into anime and JRPGs in my youth.

I expected less from my works.

So I strove and did my best.

The result? All my works looked the same.

And because they looked the same, I stagnate.

Stagnation is the enemy of improvement.

You have to be doing something different, every now and then,

Push yourself out of your comfort zone!

Be contented with creating something different.

Today, I... did just that.

I would never have contemplated creating... this.

No never. this was something beneath me...

and yet... it's so simple that it looks so stupid, yes?

But it's fun. and it breaks me and my routine.

So how many other routines have we deemed "beneath" us that we never even tried?

I dunno with you, but with me, creating these icons... made me think of creating other icons... with just a simple photoshop, a mouse pad, and my imagination (insert constraints)

Break the routine

I wrote about the staleness of my routine.

So I did something different....

...Just obtained my drivers license!

Now all I have to do is muster the guts to drive the car outside the narrow gate.

So Brangelina split up...

My Facebook feed is having an emotional breakdown over the Brangelina Break-up.

It's sad.

Even my mom was sad about it. I can't blame her. I was beside her when we watched Mr. & Mrs. Smith way back in 2005.

Break-ups are sad, even if it's not our own break-up.

I don't want to be affected, as much as possible.

There's enough drama in our lives that adding another one doesn't help.

Reflecting on my beloved country, the Philippines... Part 2

It hurts to watch the news.

It hurts that I want to pluck my eye balls and plug my ears.

Truth hurts, they say.

The biggest question is.... who is telling the truth?

Reflecting on my beloved country, the Philippines...

Did our Filipino ancestors die in vain?

They fought a bloody war against the Spaniards, the Americans and the Japanese for Independence. 

They fought hard. They fought for independence. 

Lives were lost. Lives were defended. Lives were betrayed.

Is this how we repay the blood they shed?

I ran out of buffer blogs

Lol.

What am even doing?

(Breaking the routine. Making fun of myself)

10 Ideas on how to be the Best Version of Myself

In true James Altucher's Idea Muscle fashion, I wrote the following ideas to myself one morning before I started work. 

The list is not absolute. It's a photograph of what I believed would help me become a better person. 

1. Wake up at 4 AM. To work on my morning pages. To Meditate. To start my day early. 

2. Sleep at 9 or 10 PM. To install discipline. To give myself sufficient time to sleep. To have time to do personal activities after dinner. 

3. Work out at least 15 minutes a day. Our bodies deserve the right to be happy and healthy. 

4. Commit to read new and inspirational books or blog daily.  To sharpen my mind and make my knowledge grow. 

5.  Spend 15 minutes on a daily project. If I don't work on it, the project dies. Yes, it will die. 

6. Interact with people on a daily basis. No man is an island. We're much happier and healthier when we relate with people. 

7. Show kindness and positivity. It's a favor we do to others and to ourselves. 

8. Look for the hidden gem or blessing in every situation. From Sara Blakely. this is a life-changing advice. Really. You  turn whatever shit happens to you into gold. 

9. Choose to forgive people and yourself. It's like drinking poison. No, you don't drink poison and hope you will be okay. 

10. Embrace and celebrate failure. Rather, change your perception of what failure is. Failure is part of life, and learning how to cope with this fact is a key to live. 

How to kill whatever activity you're doing.

I'm pumped. Super, duper, pumped. 

The next day, I proclaim to the world how happy I am, how my life has amazingly changed after doing what I'm doing.

Sounds good, right?

There's nothing bad about sharing what makes you happy, right?

I thought so too....until I noticed this pattern.

After sharing my joy, my interest in the activity begins to fade. 

THEN MY INTEREST IN THE ACTIVITY FADES INTO OBLIVION. AND I END UP ABANDONING IT.

No, I'm not kidding!

I've started to feel it with my fanfics, you know, the Final Fantasy 7 story I'm writing. There's this force that suddenly appeared inside me. You must write it perfectly. Write it perfectly. Damn it, write it perfectly! 

Sometimes, the pressure can be so overwhelming!

Sigh. Have you experienced this as well?

Something different

I need to do something different with my life.

My routine has become stale.

I need to push myself forward.

You can't build Rome in a day

My head hurts.

I just realized it. You can't build Rome in a day.
If you do, you will burn out. You will get tired. You will get irritated.
I'm working on the second chapter of "The Flower from Midgar", and it is not an easy task.

I'm churning what to include, what to exclude. I want to work on the next chapter, but my heads tells me it has enough.

It tells me to pay attention to other matters.

Work. Other hobbies. Tidying. A life other than writing. Relaxation. Fun.

You can't build Rome in a day.

Imagination Capital

My father is an entrepreneur, and I grew up with a bunch of people who're children of entrepreneurs.

In a sudden twist of fate, I lose my dad, leaving me with my mom who's working for the government.

I never imagined that I could be an entrepreneur, after all, it's a widespread notion that to be an entrepreneur, one must have a capital to fund your venture. Money. Money. Money.

And I don't have that, financially speaking.

I don't have a million pesos, heck , I don't even have the money to pay what I owe to fully pay my health insurance.

Neither am I capable of starting a large scale business that will launch me from obscurity into stardom.

I just don't see myself as that... yet.

Nothing is fixed in stone, yes?

Then one day, I discovered Jon Orana from a blogger I've been following. He made a fortune selling ebooks.

His capital?

No, not money.

His capital was his imagination. 

And because I don't have the financial capital, I would like to believe I have the capital to fully utilize my imagination. 

The only thing I have is my head, my hands, my fascination to tell stories, and a slightly crazy imagination.

Do you have a captial? What's yours? 

I'm migrating my 10 Daily Illustrations Series

Earlier this year, I started a series of posts called "10 Daily Illustrations". The concept was derived from James Altucher's "10 ideas a day practice".

I enjoyed doing those exercises because it challenged my mental faculties! Plus, I also had the chance to tap my inner child and play with a bunch of designs.

(my most viewed daily illustration is the 10 variations for a cactus design)

Because my artblog looks so barren, I decided to migrate the concept there and start anew!

Where can I find my inspiration?

Everything is a material.

Pain. Happiness. Sadness. Grief. Despair.

When I'm stuck in a rut and my creative well has dried out, I take time to restock it.

I purposely distract myself and indulge in sensory activities.

Everything is a material.

To process my experiences into materials, I transform it with the power of art.

Pain becomes a story.

Happiness becomes a comic.

Sadness becomes a painting.

Grief becames a visual art.

Despair becomes a poetry.

Everything is a material.

Dr. Alvin's Professional Skin Care Formula works for me!

I always told myself beauty doesn't matter, but hey, I'm just human. As my life unfolded, I discovered a tiny grain of truth that, yes, beauty does matter.

To this end, I allowed myself to purchase some beauty products to enhance my features.

I used Beauche in 2011, when I was on my last year of college. It was priced at a whopping amount of 800 Pesos. 800 was expensive for a college student like me.

Was it effective? Yes. 

Did I continue to use it? No. 

On that same year, I discovered Human Heart Nature. I discovered the myriad of chemicals harmful for the body, and Beauche... well, let's say I found some of those chemicals in it (Parabens, for example).

But again, let me remind you, Beauche worked for me. It's just that my beliefs were incompatible with the product. So I ditched it.

Prior to using Beauche, I also had excellent results with St. Dalfour. Absolutely excellent results. 

Did I continue? No.

That same year, FDA released a statement that high mercury levels were found in St. Dalfour. With a heavy heart, I ditched the product. Sigh.

My skin is oily, and with luck, I settled with Human Heart Nature's Products. I don't breakout and my conscience is clear. I eventually ditched soap and used plan water for my face. No more zits, except for the occasional breakout when I'm ovulating.

Now, despite my dislike for expensive beauty products laden with chemicals, I can't my innate curiosity.

You could say, my curiosity led me to try Dr. Alvin's Professional Skin Care Formula.

I have several friends who've used it, and well... the curiosity bug bit me.

My face flushed around the 3rd - 5th day. Not as red as a tomato though. My face also started to peel.

Some of my officemates noticed the changes on my face. Here are some of the comments I received:

1. "Did you have an allergy?"

2. "Why is your face oily?"

3. "Where have you been? Your face is so sweaty." 

4. "Your face is peeling."

One week later, here's what I look like:

   No foundation and blush applied. 

After applying sunblock, I just filled my brows and colored my lips with la lipstick. 

I've never left the house without foundation and blush since 2012. So I'm surprised that my cheeks are somewhat pinkish now.

I'm Chinese-Filipina by the way, so I know I'm fair. Despite my fairness, my facial skin isn't that great. I'm oily with some.. er.. blackheads. My cheeks usually become rosy after a heavy bout of work out. I've never left the house without foundation and blush since 2012. So I'm surprised that my cheeks are somewhat pinkish now.

I must say, I have positive results with this product. (even if it has parabens.. lol)

The only thing I dislike about using this is that my skin is now sensitive. I had a blackhead on my cheek and I couldn't resist but pop it. Wrong move.

The following day, the pressure I exerted left a red mark, and it appeared the skin stretched. I religiously followed the routing and that part of the skin faded and peeled away.

 So yes, definitely no more touching, pricking or poking.

The Verdict:

This product is effective. Period. :)

It doesn't hurt to appreciate a Review

Seeking people's opinion on your work is an act of hierarchy.

That's what I learned from Steven Pressfield.

To act in a hierarichal fashion is to like commit an artist suicide.

Pressfield advises to act territorially.

In my case, to act teritorially is to create.

You know... write the story you always wanted to read.

After finishing "Your Love, My Undoing" or YLMU, I dedicated my mental faculties on developing "Magdalen from Midgar", or MFM.

MFM's story has been around my head for a while, when I decided to prototype it as a fanfiction. Nothing bad right?

With MFM, I'm inching out from my comfort zone: I'm taking my time to learn how to write using the 5 senses. I'm reading books, tutorials and tips how to improve my creative writing skills.

I'm acting teritorially.

After a tiring day at work, I was about to pack my laptop into its bag when I briefly checked my inbox.

"Oh, I have a review."

I read it, and I was pleasantly surprised.

Wow, had me on the edge of my seat. Very compelling and well-written. Just hope you can carry that same energy for other chapters.

I'm happy someone cared to leave YLMU a review. I know how much effort I poured for the 1st chapter. I doubt the succeeding 5 chapters met the same intensity.

Nevertheless, I'm happy how that story turned out to be.....even if it's filled with grammar mistakes and syntax errors :D

I suck. Now what?

The first step of improvement is to admit that you suck.

I suck. 

At 15, I taught myself how to use photoshop. I mostly dealt with concept at, webcomics, and original character illustrations. 

Tarpaulin or lay-out design? 

What was that? 

People tend to assume that if you can use photoshop, you can do anything it's capable of. 

That's not true, by the way.

My pride and refusal to learn and adapt cost me the chance to improve. I have lost opportunities of pride. My pride has lead me to one of my weaknesses. 

Lay-out Design.

I view the craft of making tarpauling design as a complicated matter. 

Experimenting to search for the perfect blend of color harmony, font, images and lay-out stress my neurons.

I became lazy, and decided not to learn anything about tarpaulin design.

I mean... I knew how to use photoshop. I'd get through it. 

Wrong move, girl. 

I suck. 

But you know... I won't suck forever. 

To create good art, I have to accept I'll be creating lots of bad art. 

Bad art is okay. It's part of the learning process. 

I lost my focus. Now what?

Work can be monotonous. 

To escape its deathly grip, I took a peek at my Facebook account. Yes, I still have and use my FB from time to time, despite my disdain for it. 

Someone asked me whether I experience moments when I want to stop and start everything from scratch.

My answer is simple. Yes. A big fat yes. 

One day, I find myself happily writing, wanting the experience to last forever. Sadly, it doesn't. The moment I wake up a few days later, I find myself moody and a changed person.

It's the kind of experience that insidiously creeps and catches you off guard. 

I, however, accept that this is part of the rhythm of life.

Life has a series of ups and downs. 

Have you seen the performance of the Philippine Stock Market?

It's depressing to see a correction, and exhilarating to see it climb!

A lack of focus, is like that ugly correction in the stock exchange. 

It’s depressing. It’s frustrating.

It makes me want to forget my dream of a great physique and binge on a creamy, delicious and mouth-watering chocolate ice cream. It makes me want to forget, and pray that everything will be alright.

The situation will get better, I tell myself.

Just… live.

Depending on your perspective, to live is either a blessing or a curse.

Once our mother has expelled us from their womb, we’re expected to course through life with an indefinite number of years. Indefinite, because we have no idea how our life, or how the candle of life will run out.

Nothing is permanent, and so is focus. 

Likewise, it’s good to know that this moment of sadness… this lack of clarity, is also not permanent.

The flow and ebb of the waves by the shore reminds me that this is part of life, and that my worrying is also normal.

The best next thing I can do is to try to calm myself down, and make a decision when my irrationality doesn't cloud my mind. 

My best therapy is writing. It is my territory. 

One of the lessons I learned in life is to identify what’s territorial act--- something you will do even if you're the last person on Earth. 

Writing is the act to pause, think and reflect.... to cry out my fears and pain. To convey what I feel is wrong.

I expect no reply. An inanimate object cannot tell you what must be done, but this notebook can tell you what’s occupying your head, and with its infinite silence, helps you to probe; think deeper, to search for solution, to listen.

The turbulence seas of life is a fact. Nothing stays or lasts forever.

My only saving grace is to cope with life.  

This thing called "Body Relativity"

We are all born with a particular weakness, and in my case, it's a two-word thing called "Color Theory".

Despite being involved with the visual art scene in my youth, color is a concept I continue to struggle. Luckily, with the help of several blogs and persistent, I was able to scratch beyond the surface to understand it.

Now, you may be wondering why I'm babbling about colors, where in fact, my topic is all about Body Relativity. 

The gist of color relativity is simple- context affects how color is perceived. 

Body relativity is an idea I coined-The environment affects how a person's body is perceived. 

Environment does not restrict itself to the physical environment, but also includes people; their biases; and how they perceive a person's body should be. 

Now, again, you must be wondering why I'm babbling about body relativity. 

It's simple. 

The other night, a friend complimented how good I looked. Several days later, another friend wondered what happened to my body (and based on how I interpreted her body language and the statement... she was shocked how my body had changed and asked if I got married... i got a negative vibe from her). 

It suddenly clicked to me that everyone has their own notion of what my ideal body should be. And that notion is what matters. 

If the present appearance doesn't conform to their notion, they will willingly voice it for me. If the present appearance does conform, they do not tell me anything at all. 

It's meaningless to continuously meet another's notion of you. We meet thousands of people in our lifetime and it is tiring to conform to a thousand of expectations. 

The joy of walking

I hate traffic. What I hate more is being trapped inside a crammed jeepney vehicle while waiting for the traffic to flow.

If I just wore rubber shoes, I'd walk home.

Well, I'm wearing ballet flats right now. I think I can walk!

On September 6, I spent a productive one hour walk home.

A one hour walk is better than being stuck in traffix for 45 minutes.

It just feels... good for the body.

Cesar Millan once said that walking is vital for dogs. Why can't it be vital for humans too?

Writers block

Oh no.

Just the other day, I was happily praising how the words flowed through my mind as I write a story.

Today's a different case.

It's a struggle compounded by "I need to write this perfectly".

Oh, what do I do with you.... writer's block

Hey, I can actually write!

The series that prompted me to start writing fanfictions wad Harvest Moon: Back to Nature.

I was 8 years old back then, and I was really embarrassed when my teacher read it.

How could I be not? It was a horror story where the Town pastor, Carter, had a horde of zombies buried underneath the catacombs and graves of his church.

It only shows that at a young age, I was into macabre and gothic fiction.

My passion fo fanfics rekindled when I was 12. I discovered a bunch of Wild Arms 2 fanfictions which I absolutely loved. The sad thing is that I can no longer find the fics online :(

That prompted me to pen my own stories. Actually, I've been penning stories as early as I can remember. I've dabbled in comics, and that's a marriage between visual art and story writing.

The first time I penned an original story was a vampire romance. I was 14 and I wrote it on a pink precious moments notebook.

That story and notebook are eternally burned in my mind because my ex-bestfriend, Valerie, managed to discover and read it. To my immense horror, she actually asked me what was going to happen next!

Those were good times.

There were stories I penned with my mon's Windows 95 PC, and I printed a bunch of them. Once, I accidentally discovered one in a heap of papers. I just read it and I was blown away. Why didn't I finish it?

I have a handful of stories scattered around the house, and I am really suprised when I see one again.

Hey, I can actually write!

Last Februrary, I wrote a story called Your Eyes on Me, and I reread the early chapters I wrote.

Hey, I can actually write! 

I'm waiting for another year before I read my second fic again... but hey, I'm curious to what my reaction will be.

Facebook is emotionally draining

There's so much hate and bashing on Facebook, that it hurts to scroll the News Feed.

I love my city, and I think that it's best for my mental and emotional health to stay away from reading trolls comments, or people who bash my city for what's it going through.

I infrequently use my FB account these days. I usually spend 3-5 minutes scrolling through the feed before closing it down. Yet on September 3, I actually burned almost 3-5 hours on Facebook, reading updates on the Davao Bombing Incident.

Most of my friends are nurses who are employed at the different hospitals that responded to the disaster. It was inspiring to read their testimonials on how they gave their effort to save the lives of the injured.

.....and it can be emotionally taxing. 

Not that it's a negative thing, but I've known for a long time that I'm a highly sensitive person. I absorb people's emotions. An Empath, for short.

There is so much drama on Facebook right now that it's draining me, so the best option is to abandon it for now.

Your love, my undoing

Hooray!

I finally finished my second fanfiction, Your love, my undoing, for this year!

The first fanfic I wrote and finished is also online, His Eyes on Me. Both stories are Final Fantasy 8 fanfictions.

Truth it, it feels awkward to post it here in my blog. It's a romance, and I'm still trying to link in my head that I actually wrote a romance fic.

Oh well... 2016 is a year to stretch myself: writing , posting it online and finishing a story is actually a way to stretch myself.

This calls for a mini-celebration!

I need a nice movie to watch... like Train To Busan. I guess I'll watch once the situation in the city has calmed down.

When you try to analyze your anger

Today, I am ashamed to write that I lashed out on my mother. The tiger within me roared.

The source of the conflict was very very simple.

I had planned to changed the bedding and curtains of my room. I already removed the old beddings and placed the new ones on my undone bed. I was reading a novel when my mom appeared to tell my it was my turn for massage.

She babbled asking our helpers for help to clean the room. I thanked the offer, but refused it.

It was my room and responsibility. Two hours later, my massage session was done and I was informed it was lunch time. I decided to visit my room first to get a handband when I was taken off-guard by the sight that greeted me.

My room was immaculately clean!

The beddings were changed. The curtain I selected was changed.

My room was cleaned!

AND I WAS REALLY MAD!

I called my mom and asked her why they cleaned my room, when I specifically told her I was the one who would clean the room. Everytime my mom answer, disrespectful me would replied, "What did I tell you?" in our mother tongue.

I was so upset I stayed inside the room.

The room was immaculate, but deep inside, I was a boiling pot of rage.

I tried to push-ups to make the anger go away. It failed. It was so strong. so heavy, that the only thing I knew best to deal with it....... was to curse out loud.

Now, my mom heard this and barged into my room. She reminded me that I could be heard all the way to the kitchen.

Damn if my voice reached the kitchen. Damn if my neighbors heard me. I was visibly upset. My mom lost her patience and told me if I didn't like the room, then she would just instruct the helpers to remove the beddings.

I didn't want the beddings to be removed. I just wanted to be alone. Alone to deal with my feelings and rage.

My mom left and I just lied down on the bed. I grabbed my notebook and wrote my feelings.

Several hours later, I left my room to have lunch. I had already calmed down then. Eventually, I apologized to my mom.

This event had me thinking.....why was I so mad? Why couldn't I control the rage?

Believe me, I can't recall the last time I reached that boiling point.

I pondered why. What were the circumstances that led me to be that angry?

Here were the facts:

1. I was so excited to change the bedding and curtains.
2. I personally selected the bedding and curtains.
3. I specifically instructed my mom not to touch my room, nor did I want the help of the helpers.
4. Mother did not listen to number 3.
5. I felt robbed of the opportunity to make my room clean.
6. I felt mother did not care enough to listen to my request and broke her word.

What does the act of tidying mean to me?

Take note, I did not grow up having to clean a house. There were always helpers around to do it for me. When I grew up, I realized what a sorry excuse of a human being I was and decided to be responsible.

I decided to occupy my room and promised to be responsible for its cleanliness.

One of the things I actually love is changing the bedding, even if it's tiresome. It's tiresome, yet it brings me a sense of... industry.

Let me tell you this, I have not changed the bed sheets and pillow cases for almost three weeks, naturally I wanted to sleep on something clean and fresh!

Although my mom, in her best intentions, tried to help me and provide me a clean room... I think I felt angry because the work was stolen from me.

Yep. The Work was stolen from me. The act of doing something I wanted to do, was stolen to me.

Not only was it promised to me, but it was stolen.

And I don't like it when someone promises something and doesn't deliver it. I don't like it when someone steals from me.

No wonder I was angry.

But there's more to that, I think.

I'm always reading about Psychology, and there's this concept about "Psychological Projection". Psychological Projection happens when you attribute your hated qualities to another person.

When I refresh my memory, my mother had the intent to help me. I wanted plan A. She couldn't wait for my Plan A and launched Plan B. I got mad because she ignored my plans and decided to go with her own because she thought it was for my own benefit.

Wait, haven't I done what my mother has done too?

The Horror Story of the Bombing Incident of Roxas Night Market in Davao City

Our beloved city, "The safest city", The Land of Promise, Davao , has been bombed last night.

This is not the first incident. Way back in 2003, I recall that our old airport was bombed. Thirteen years later, our city has been bombed again.

I was very excited to watch "Train to Busan" today. I yearned for its horror-action packed storyline.

I was not expecting the horror story that greeted me when I scrolled my facebook feed.

It was a horror story that put Train to Busan to shame.

Would you like to know what it is?

It is the hypocrisy and crab-mentality of my fellowmen.

When disaster struck Paris, and Istanbul, some of my fellowmen were all #Prayfor(insert country).

When disaster struck our city, they made a mockery of it.

Karma. It suits you. "Are you really the safest city?" Where is your president now? 

The horror is incomparable that Train to Busan pales it comparison to it.

I have never been more ashamed of my country.

Binging on Telemundo's Santa Diabla

Last weekend, I binged on reading Caray Caray recaps from Telemundo's show, Santa Diabla.

I was listening to an old Jencarlos Canela song titled, "Tu Veneno", which is in my playlist since 2012. So how did I discover this song? Years ago, "El Cuerpo Del Deseo" was shown in one of our local channels.

Source: Wikipedia.
Man, I was still a college freshman when this was shown in 2008! the memories it brings!
I didn't like the ending myself. Hero does. Anti-heroine dies.
They died in a good way too. 

Jencarlos starred in a telemundo-produced show calles "Mas Sabe El Diablo" way back 2009-2010. He was partnered with Gaby Espino, 10 years his senior. Nevertheless, they had chemistry! This is the video I'm talking about. Lovely couple aren't they?

source: wikipedia
I just saw some clips from youtube.

.....yet they broke up in 2014 :(

Anyways, I was looking over Gaby Espino's filmography, clicked Santa Diabla, read its plot, and scourged youtube for clips.

source: yes, it's wikipedia again!
I like the lay-out of this poster!
Santa (Gaby Espino) wants to avenge the murder of her husband.
She plots to destroy Humberto (Carlos Ponce, the one on the right side of the poster).
Things were supposed to go according to plan, until she meets Santiago (the dude she's clinging to on the poster).
The same dude happens to be the brother of the one she's going to destroy.
Strangely, I didn't like the Santa/Santi pairing. No chemistry!

One of the vids I saw was "Humberto y Santa", and I was intrigued!

Because I couldn't understand spanish except for some words, I went over to my good ol' favorite site for telenovela recaps, "Caray caray!".

Within four hours, I devoured everything I could about the show. It was painful to scroll all through 200 comments!

Finally contented, I switched off my phone and ruminated over the story: it was similar to another telemundo show titled "Flor Salvaje".

source: latinoparaiso.ru

Except that Flor Salvaje was much more satisfying to watch, and the heroine of that show (the late Monica Spear) had amazing chemistry with the anti-hero/villain of the story.

source: www. pinterest
So this dude killed her first love interest out of jealousy.
She plots revenge and tries to make him fall for her so she can ruin him.
The plan is almost perfect.....except that the heroine falls in love for the monster

Both telenovelas ended tragically: the heroine's part dies without knowing they were to be expectant fathers.

yet Flor's ending was much more satisfying. You could see that Flor was able to raise her son well... whereas Santa Diabla....

Well, her man's is dead, and the person who killed her man is on the loose, prowling about her.

At least Flor had a much more decent ending!

Revenge was one of the core themes of both story.

What I liked about how Santa Diabla is how they portrayed it: Nobody wins.

It was good that I binged on those recaps.

My "creative well" is going through a drought, and I need to infuse myself with much ideas as I can.

Now what?

...I ran out of ideas to write for this daily blog.

Looking back at my previous posts, I've written a bunch of topics on creatimg, on writing, and on mundane things that bother me.

Seeing them made me realize, "oh! Look at the shallow things I'm worrying about! Am I really spending my time, worrying?"

Okay. Maybe "shallow", is inappropriate.

2 months of blogging

I'm surprised that I made it to September.

I committed to blog daily last June 16 or June 17.

Two months later, and I'm still writing!

Hooray!