As the first episode of the Philippines Graphic Literary Workshop (PGLW) slowly came to its conclusion on February 28, we knew that we had one more thing that we can offer our bright young fellows: a starting platform for their creative endeavors. Here, we present one of their final outputs from the workshop. We also asked them to provide an artwork that they think best represents their stories. Read on.
This is how I play it in my head: You will sit awkwardly on the other end of the couch, your ridiculously cute and thick eyebrows pulled together by concern—maybe worry, maybe disbelief. And you will ask me, When did this start—this feeling? Because that is the right question. That is what you should be asking. Because I’m dying to tell you. I’m dying to tell my best friend. And I will answer: Like three summers ago. But you will have them mixed up in your head since we have only spent the last nine summers at your parents’ beach house and you always remember things differently and strangely. Remember that summer your dad made us clean the beach but we only threw everything washed ashore back into the sea. Those driftwoods, seashells, flip-flops, dead urchins, broken glasses—that shiny yellow shoe! I can’t seem to forget that yellow shoe—or maybe I can’t seem to forget just everything about that summer. When we floated on our backs on the water and we saw a bird above us, frozen and wings spread. We couldn’t tell whether it was an eagle, hawk, or raven, and though you insisted, I was sure it wasn’t an eagle. Then you pulled us underwater, and maybe it was the sunlight beams but somehow your body gleamed. So I will tell you: That was the start. That there in the water was my chapel. I was mortal and you were divine. And though I’m not so sure how you will react it wouldn’t really matter, because ever since that summer it has been like some faith. And I can only ever speak to you in a prayer.Â
Joshua Arellano studies Bachelor of Arts in English (Creative Writing) in the University of the Philippines Mindanao. He grew up in the heart of Region 11, city of Tagum, Davao del Norte. When there are valid grounds, he not only judges a book by its cover but even by its author.
