As I sit perched upon this hill overlooking the serene expanse of Lamon Bay in Gumaca, Quezon, Philippines, I find myself engulfed in a whirlwind of creativity that refuses to be silenced by the demands of sleep.
The moon hangs low in the sky, casting its ethereal glow upon the landscape below, while the gentle breeze whispers secrets only the night knows. Here, amidst the tranquility of nature, my friend Niles and I embark on a journey that transcends the boundaries of time itself – a journey fueled by the insatiable thirst for inspiration and the camaraderie of shared creativity. Forget that. We were on a tight deadline for submission to the prestigious Carlos Palanca Memorial Awards in Literature.
Niles, then already an award-winning poet, having won the Makata ng Taon 1994, was trying was trying to lure me to be a poet myself. Alas, my poetry, was too prosaic, he told me in moments of disappointment with my drafts.
The words flowed effortlessly from his mind to the page, each line weaving eloquent strands of emotions and ideas that begged to be expressed, while I suffered from the poverty of language and perhaps, talents.
As the hours stretched into the depths of night, the world around us faded into obscurity, leaving only the blank canvas of our imaginations to guide us. Every shadow, every whisper, became a source of inspiration, fueling our creativity with an intensity that bordered on madness.
But as the first light of dawn painted the sky in hues of gold and pink, we realized that we had entered uncharted territory. The boundaries between day and night blurred into obscurity, leaving us adrift in a timeless void where sleep held no dominion. And yet, even as exhaustion threatened to claim our weary minds, the muse that had taken residence within us refused to be silenced.
And so, we pressed on. With each passing hour, we delved deeper into the recesses of our souls, mining the depths of our subconscious for nuggets of wisdom and insight. Every moment of fatigue was met with a surge of adrenaline, a reminder that the pursuit of artistic expression knows no bounds.
As the sun dipped below the horizon once more, painting the sky in fiery shades of orange and red, we realized that we had achieved something remarkable. In the span of 48 hours, we had traversed the vast expanse of our imaginations (well, mostly his) leaving behind a trail of verses that bore witness to the depths of our creativity (again, mostly his.)
And though our bodies may be weary and our minds exhausted, the sense of fulfillment that washes over us is undeniable. For in the stillness of this hill overlooking Lamon Bay, we have discovered the true power of inspiration – a force so potent that it can defy the very limitations of human endurance.
As we bid farewell to the night and welcome the embrace of sleep, we carry with us the knowledge that no matter how daunting the journey may seem, the muse that resides within us will always guide the way.
We didn’t win that year, but Niles went on to win numerous awards as a novelist and a poet.
I’m still chasing the dream after many years of hiatus.
Renato Gandia 