Around this time last year, I was finishing up the details for my very first hair accessories line with Dandy Ona Jewelry. This time around, we launched my ceramic jewelry collection with its sister brand Hey Kessy Jewelry.
Back in November, I visited the Hey Kessy Pottery studio with my friend Kaich. I made a few earring prototypes based on some images swirling in my head. Just like my first collection with Dandy Ona, I was really just playing around with the medium as I have no formal training in pottery or designing earrings.
We did them in varying thickness because I wasn’t sure how thin I could go before they’d break. You’ll see throughout the progress pictures how many of these actually survive the rounds of firing.
In late January, I came back to the studio to paint the bisque earrings. Looking pretty good, right? But also, some already broke, so I was praying that all of these would survive the next firing. Do you like the colors I chose?
I took some photos of the glazed pieces to show the goldsmiths how I wanted the fixings to be attached on the ceramic parts. It’s always fun to wait and see how these come out because the artisans get pretty creative with their interpretation.
Yesterday, I finally saw the finished pieces in person at Hey Kessy’s Valentine Pop-up in UP Town Center. Dandy Ona Jewelry also released their Valentine collection, so we had a piercing party to celebrate.
After much convincing (6 hours and I-can’t-count-how-many people, I finally got an extra piercing on my lobe at the end of the pop-up. Thank you, Rachel of Piercings by Ravana for accommodating this indecisive girl. Haha!
Infinite thanks to my constant collaborator Mansy of Hey Kessy and Dandy Ona for always encouraging me to try new things and supporting my ideas. Can’t believe this is our second collection already! Thanks to Wina, Cay, and the rest of Hey Kessy and Dandy Ona team for setting everything up yesterday.
If you want to see the collection, head to @heykessyjewelry on Instagram and send them a message through DM or through email for orders. You can send them requests for custom orders, too!
Why the loneliest days come after you bury the dead.
When death comes,
the support is almost immediate, overwhelming even. Messages of
condolences—what does that even mean, really?—start pouring in as soon as they
hear about the unfortunate news. People come in droves right before you’re left
to deal with your grief by yourself at the end of the day.
And you’re fine
when you’re surrounded by people. People who have known your loved one and
share stories from a happier time, one where your loved one was still alive.
They share your grief, they hold your hand, they offer prayers for the deceased
and the bereaved. And that’s all well and good, and of course, very much
appreciated. But what happens after the leave?
My brothers and I
lost our mom to liver cirrhosis almost 11 years ago in 2008. We were
twenty-somethings suddenly left with the responsibility of raising ourselves.
Our father had suffered a stroke due to an aneurysm on the left side of his
brain a decade before our mother passed away. All of a sudden, we had to learn
to take care not just of ourselves, but also our dad.
I’d like to think
that we’ve handled the situation we’ve been dealt with as much grace as we
could possibly muster. You would think that death would be easier the second
time around. It isn’t.
Here are 3 things
I’ve learned about grief.
We all deal with grief differently. Some people like to keep themselves busy to distract them from the loneliness. Some people like to wallow in the pain, let the tears flow endlessly until their eyes run dry. Some people like to talk about it, tell the story over and over until it becomes almost systematic and devoid of feelings. And there’s no wrong or right way to do it. It’s been a week of waking up and crying in bed for me and I just let myself. But I also allow myself to talk about silly, trivial things like how there are two documentaries chronicling the disaster that is Fyre Fest or omg Chris Pratt is engaged?
It’s okay not to say anything when people message you. The easiest way to commiserate for most people is to send a message of sympathy. I cannot count the times I’ve read the word “Condolences” in the past 2 weeks. I know it’s supposed to comfort you, but even after losing both my parents, this word certainly doesn’t do anything to the immense sadness in my heart. And even if that’s the case, I appreciate the messages all the same. I’ve learned that I can be grateful without having to reply to every single person who sends me “Condolences.”
The loneliest days come after you bury the dead. If anything, the days when you’re at the wake are actually bearable. You see people you haven’t seen in months, years. They bring you mass cards and money and food. They share stories about the person you’ve just lost, and it feels comforting to reminisce about the better days. Often, there’s more laughter than tears at the burial. But when you lie in bed and wake up the next morning, you realize that the person is no longer there. That’s when it hits you. When you wake up for breakfast and your dad who is usually the first one at the dining table is no longer here. That’s when you feel your heart breaking over and over again. It’s not the first time I’ve had to deal with death in my family and it’s most likely not the last. I’m trying to deal with grief better by allowing myself to cope the best way I know how. These days, it’s giving myself room to cry, to laugh, to live through this. I’m taking it one day at a time and I know one morning, I’ll wake up and my tears won’t fall anymore. But for now, pass the tissue please.
I wrote this a little over a week after my dad’s burial. Happy to report that the tears have been few and far in between. Today’s plans included opening up the lone biscuit box left over from his wake. I’m sure there’s some sort of poetic meaning to eating the cookies on Valentine’s Day of all days. And if there’s none, well, I’m pretty sure my dad would’ve loved sharing a few pieces with me if he were still here.
The year could not have started out any worse than it did. Surprisingly, I am doing pretty well all things considered. Looking back, there were still some good things to come out of an understandably somber month for me and my family. And I’m glad I get to chronicle them in my tiny corner of the web.
Spotify now has playlists according to your star sign. Now, I don’t necessarily love all the songs in this, but I’m pleasantly surprised that “Destiny” by Zero 7 is on the list.
For some strange reason, I’ve been getting the sudden urge to just bake on a completely random day. It started with brownies. And then one day, it was Oreo cheesecake. On yet another, it was a batch of cookies. I’ve been giving some away, but also I’ve been thinking a lot about selling my cookies to strangers. I haven’t really sat down and brainstormed on how I’m going about it, but I’ve been bugging family and friends, asking them if I can count on their support when I do decide to go full-throttle on Macy’s Fields. (They said yes, duh.)
After a quick ritual with my sage and palo santo, I drew cards during the Full Moon. The Death card in tarot doesn’t usually mean literal death (more like ending and beginning of cycles), and this is not the first time it has appeared in my spreads.
But this is the only time I felt its literal meaning. The question for this card was “Where is my power during the full moon?” There couldn’t have been a more appropriate card.
When we were going through the motions at the hospital, then the morgue, then the funeral parlor, then the wake, and the burial, I couldn’t help but think, we were ready for it. Nobody told us what to do or where to go or what to say. Somehow, even if we weren’t prepared to say goodbye to our dad, in some ways, maybe we were.
My brothers and I have been “our father’s keeper,” as my brother Manu said in his beautiful eulogy on the last day of our father’s wake, for twenty years now. I look at us and I’m proud to stand by them and how we’ve taken care of each other all these years.
Maybe that’s why I’m not so worried about the future that lies ahead of us.
I finished two books this January (well, almost). The first one was The Interestings by Meg Wolitzer. I started this last year and had such a difficult time finishing it because I was so annoyed with how stubborn Jules Jacobson was in the book. But my friend Marla, who lists this as one of her favorite books by the author, told me to see it through. And hard is it was to finish, it was a great story about growing up and finding out that maybe you’re not as remarkable as you thought you were as a kid—but that doesn’t make you any less interesting than everyone else. I loved how it teetered between their past and the present and how it showed that people can change through time and yet, somehow, stay the same.
As for Tara Westover’s memoir, which I technically finished today, I encourage you to read her amazing, awe-inspiring story. I had to remind myself several times over the course of reading this book that it was not fiction. Educated will make you think about how important education is—both in and out of school—and how sometimes, family can be the people you choose and not the ones you were born into. I cannot wait to read more from this author.
I’ve unearthed a lot of my mom’s hair accessories because of my recent de-cluttering. Who knew barrettes from the ’80s would be in fashion again? I guess sometimes, it pays to be a packrat? I’ve been trying to be smarter about my purchases, too, thinking if something I buy will last me the next ten years or so. I’ve been investing in a lot of linen clothes (I just bought some really nice ones from my friends’ line GoBasic, which I didn’t know had linen tops and dresses for sale until quite recently) and real leather shoes. Someday, I hope that when I have a kid of my own, she can also wear my clothes and shoes just like what I do with my mom’s old stuff.
I’m not even exaggerating when I say this is so ridiculously easy, you’ll be making cheesecake every week after you try it. This is one of the few recipes I know by heart. I go by the ratio: 1 pack cream cheese, 1/4 cup white sugar, 1 egg. For this particular batch, I doubled the recipe for a slightly taller cheesecake. Most people will do 4 packs of cream cheese to get that coffee shop type of cheesecake. But since we’re just 3 people sharing this, I figured 2 packs are probably enough.
I originally started out hand mixing this because I was too lazy to go up and use my stand mixer. But I couldn’t really get it to a smooth consistency and I was getting impatient. I ended up throwing the cream cheese and sugar into the mixer and I was done in 10 minutes. That said, you can totally use a hand mixer or a wooden spoon—it’s totally up to you.
For this, I used some Oreo cookies for the crust, in the batter, and as garnish on top. I imagine you can do this with Speculoos, chocolate chip cookies, butter cookies, etc. I used a blender to crush my cookies but I’ve also used a mortar and pestle before (make sure you don’t use the same one you use for garlic, because uh who wants garlic cheesecake??).
♡ every day, because I wake up and I’m okay, I’m here, I’m alive ♡ friends and family these past two weeks—I may have only replied a curt “thank you” to your messages, but I am deeply grateful for each one ♡ spending 5 days with my favorite not-so little person, who is growing up to be such a delightful human with so much love, empathy, and kindness <3 ♡ somehow getting work done and accomplishing paperwork in the middle of all that’s happened ♡ finishing sex education, which was absolutely hilarious and brilliantly written—now season 2, please ♡ finishing my first book of the year and starting a new one (I keep needing to remind myself that educated is not fiction, what a story) ♡ a new season of schitt’s creek, my best discovery of 2018 (I know I’m a late bloomer). moira rose forever~ ♡ getting a thousand words in for a short story I’m working on (I still have 6,000 more words to go…) ♡ getting to flex my strat muscles again (I haven’t done a strat plan since…2016 because my 2017 one was canceled, lol) ♡ my full moon in leo reading—makes me hopeful for the coming year. here’s to taking the steps to make all my plans happen.
On the last night of my Daddy’s wake, my brothers and I shared a few words with family and friends, who shared in our grief, celebrated our father’s life, and told us of the wonderful man he was to them when he was still alive.
I keep saying goodbye to Daddy. Different parts of him slowly peel away each time that I do.
In 1999, he suffered a stroke due to an aneurysm on the left side of his brain. Mommy heard a thud from their bathroom upstairs and found him sprawled in his underwear fresh from a shower. He was a big man—almost 300 lbs—and had to be dragged down the stairs and transported to the hospital. The story goes that an angel in the form of a man on a motorcycle, helped our van weave in and out of traffic to make it to St. Luke’s. They found out that his brain had already hemorrhaged and the artery had to be clipped.
The first time I saw him, lying in the ICU, all his hair had been shaved off, and multiple wires came in and out of the different holes in his body. This was not my Daddy. Not the one who tutored me in Math, not the one who played golf in Capitol, not the one I would sneakily ask permission from when Mommy would say no the first time I asked. I said goodbye to him for the first time.
In a few months, bits and pieces of my old Daddy would re-appear. In his signature quips like the famous “anak ng baka” and his hearty laugh. He still smiled that mischievous smile when he knows he’s been caught eating something he’s not supposed to.
We learned a new way of life. Learning how to maneuver him in a wheelchair, assisting his walking with a cane and a leg brace. We learned how to decipher his hand signs and guess what the words mean when they come out of his mouth. He was no longer our Daddy who talked over everyone at parties and knocked back beers with his siblings.
Two and a half years ago, I said goodbye to him a second time. My brothers and I were all about to leave for work when we saw Daddy shivering in the shower, unable to breathe. In the next twelve hours, we drove to the ER of St. Luke’s, were told that he had just had a heart attack, and he needed to undergo an angioplasty. We then transported him to Heart Center, where in just a few minutes he was wheeled into the operating room to have two stents placed in him to help his heart pump blood better.
It was another round of getting to know this new version of him. But parts of his old self would still peek through. He’d still exclaim an excited “anak ng baka” when he’s with old friends. He would still sneak in a piece of chocolate after he’s been told that he can’t have it. We had to change his diet and we had to get creative with the way we prepared his meals. His medicine had to be doubled and we had to hire a nurse to help take care of him. This was our new normal.
I spent Monday afternoon with him at the mall, accompanying him at the dentist to pick up his new dentures. When we said good night he said that he would feel better the next day. I didn’t know that on Tuesday morning, I was going to say goodbye to Daddy a third time.
Every morning since then, I wake up and I cry in bed. I wait until the tears stop flowing before I get up to come here and do everything all over again. I know I need to go through the tears and the ache in my chest will soon fade until I can forget about it a little while.
We’ll go back home after we say goodbye to him one more time tomorrow. We will trace our steps the best way we know how. We’ll learn to live a new normal and maybe we’ll see old parts of Daddy and Mommy in each other. Or at least that is my hope.
♡ all the people who trusted my work and let me edit/write/strategize/do video demos for them ♡ almost one year of this website (it turns one on January 10 offish) ♡ all the dishes I cooked and the bread I learned to bake ♡ the time to read and watch all the things ♡ every morning I got to write something ♡ all of the productive co-work days with fellow freelancers and supportive friends teaching me the ways ♡ weddings and birthdays and celebrations I got to be part of ♡ creative projects with friends ♡ getting to travel to new places with people I love ♡ rediscovering the magic inside me and trusting my intuition fully
The last day of the year and I can’t let it end without my final Currently list. It’s been a pretty amazing year and I’m glad I’ve chronicled all my favorites throughout the year.
I’ve been making year-end playlists for a while now, and I’m not stopping any time soon. I know Spotify generated my Top 100 songs for the year, but I thought I’d still go ahead and curate my own without web algorithms dictating it. I present to you A Year in Songs 2018.
What is December without copious amounts of eating? But my best meal of the month—maybe even of the year—was our early Noche Buena at Samba in Shang at the Fort. It was also our first time to spend Christmas on holiday and it was a pretty good one. We didn’t have to cook, wash dishes, or even make up our beds. Haha! Definitely a tradition I want us to continue.
Been baking a lot this month and it made me think of what could be possible in the coming year. I’ve never pushed Macy’s Fields aggressively, but I think 2019 may be the year I take it to the next level. Hoping that I can figure out how to make it a sustainable business. Wish me luck! Also, I hope I can count on your support when I decide to put my goods out there.
Looking back at the year with gratitude in my heart. Thankful to everyone who put their trust in me and let me work with them. I’ve learned a whole lot in the last 365 days. I always remember that quote from Jostein Gaarder’s Sophie’s World, “Wisest is she who knows she does not know.” Looking forward to all the lessons waiting for me in 2019.
After so many months of being pretty good at self-control, I went all out this month. I think all my birthday shopping last month spilled over to my holiday shopping (“I deserve this,” I kept telling myself, lol) this month. Definitely splurged on my Christmas dress (a bright red terno mini from Áraw), but I love it so much! Also picked up another pair of Souvenir clip-ons and got gifted a pair by Sam for Christmas. Love!
I had grand plans of cleaning out my closet today, but I kind of just want to lay in bed and read. How are you spending the last day of 2018?
For as long as I can remember, I’ve always been the kind of person who honors traditions. I stick to the same plan every year, never really changing what I’ve grown accustomed to doing growing up.
Every birthday meant I’d have my friends over, have them sing me a birthday song, I’d blow out the candles and make a wish with my eyes closed. Even the food would be the same: lasagna with my mom’s bechamel sauce, orange spare ribs, and jungle juice (a recipe taught by my high school English teacher of all people, lol). When we were still living in Xavierville, the night would not end without a midnight walk to the park. History would repeat itself over and over again.
Until one year, I didn’t want a party. My friends still surprised me that year, but eventually, we also moved out of our house. I could no longer have friends over. And my birthday tradition was suddenly gone. Or so I thought.
It simply changed. I celebrated with smaller groups and stretched my birthday into weeks. My awesome friends even surprised me by pooling together money, so I could buy a new oven a few years ago. These past few years, I’ve tried to go on a birthday trip when I can and when I have the funds to splurge.
Christmas is another tradition that has constantly evolved for me. From getting our stockings filled with chocolate and toys when we were still living in Marikina to heading over to my Lola’s place in Iba to open gifts after midnight. I remember my parents would take us shopping for clothes and gifts on the 24th because there were hardly ever any people at the mall anymore. That and my mom is just really last minute, haha.
I used to complete Simbang Gabi with my parents—first in the Xavierville chapel then eventually in Gesu. Then when my mom passed away, I just stopped going completely. Maybe one day, I’ll go again.
The year before she died, we spent our holidays in Olongapo, where we had Noche Buena at a Korean restaurant that oddly served Filipino food. It feels so long ago, but I still remember the tiny tree my brother brought along with gifts for all of us.
And when Mira came along, we all got excited seeing her rip her gifts open and excitedly play with her new toys right away. I would bravely drive us all the way to the South just so we could spend Christmas Eve with her. These days, you can’t even get me to drive myself to the grocery. LOL.
Maybe this year will be different again, but it doesn’t worry me. Traditions are great, but they’re also not permanent. They can fade, linger, and sometimes transform, depending on your situation. Maybe they stay the same for as long as you need them to.