Hello everyone! It has been some time since my previous post. The days had been quite silent recently despite the variety of things that needed to be done. I used to be so focused on being busy, on ticking off one item from my long check list after another, and even cultured a lifestyle of 'busy' even on the weekends. A kind of culture that required me being on my toes almost 24/7 just so I could feel more triumphant about my productivity. But I learned that being productive doesn't have to be in the form of checked off items in the to-do list or the feeling of extreme exhaustion at the end of a long day. I used to crave for these things, yearning for that feeling of fatigue that validates the work I've accomplished. Before, without these, I would feel as if I've done nothing even if I had.

I guess it's my age, or the self-protection that I cultured recently. By self-protection, I meant making sure that my priority is keeping myself in good condition in every way possible. Since I burnt my energy and creativity out so many times in the past that it became hard to bounce back, I learned to take things slowly, but surely, of course.



Now it is not about the number of things I've done, but the quality of the work I've been doing. To be meaningful in every step. Sure, I made it certain that every thing I did was of the best even in the past years. But I lost so much energy it was counter-productive. It has felt a lot better to take things slowly and surely now and to reassess the impact of my tasks towards my goals.

This may sound a bit too sadistic, but ever since last year, I've been having issues with my physical health that may have made me live slowly. And after the incident when I fractured my spine, I had to adapt to a culture of taking things slowly. It has been INFURIATING, to be honest. To not be this girl who can do so many things in one day, to not be able to lift things like groceries like I used to and I tell you, I can carry heavy loads like a mule.

Because of these physical issues, I could say I was more forced into a gentle sort of living. I could say it's growing on me now. I'm a lot more forgiving of myself when I couldn't do a photoshoot, edit the photos, compose write-ups, draw and embroider all in one day.  Looking back, I realized I was too hard on myself.

I think it's because I wanted to make something of myself. To make this life of mine purposeful and to make my parents proud. To create something that people would like even in the distant future. Those are good dreams. But we have to learn that dreams take time and that we should not lose ourselves or lose our inner soul fire in the pursuit of such dreams.

There's this quote that I stumbled upon that I really like:

It's such a lovely quote. I think I will put this to heart and mind.

I'm also taking this time to learn new things and to enjoy the process of learning. Things can't be learned or mastered in a span of just a few weeks. Every thing takes time and that's okay.

I hope you are all well and please take care to have chances to take things slow. The quietest days are usually the most fulfilling sometimes.

Busy as a bee, not that I'm complaining. 

There has been much going on and I have been going back and forth between writing and illustrating so much recently that the strain in my back has been all but forgotten though it reminds me of its presence every now and then. A tedious schedule surely, but, one that I find myself supremely devoted to and grateful for. I wouldn't want it any other way. 

Recently, I found myself sleeping at five in the morning and waking at nine; not a good habit and one that I cannot recommend. In the past two days I've slept remarkably earlier and I think that's improvement even if but a little. I slept at four am and twelve midnight respectively. While it is certainly still not a healthy hour to sleep, it is with optimism that I quite agree that it is the little steps that make improvement a steady and better change. And coming from an insomniac, that does say a lot about the kind of effort one puts into being an early 'sleeper'.

Amidst all the hustle and bustle, there's always time for slowing down. And I admit, I miss walking about three kilometers one way to the grocery store back in Itoshima. It was such an effort, despite being rather exhausting, always calmed me down more than sitting. I suppose it is because of the all the nature I've been seeing there -- I've seen huge birds flying over the sky and goodness I can't express how much fascination struck me during such moments, especially when I saw that fox by the mountainside as well as the ginkgo leaves and sinewy spiders. The latter was too much for me, but they do carry some sort of elegance which are rather better to be left to look at than to be touched.

As with the embroidered pouch pictured above, I have discovered a novel way to cover the edges of the piece. Whereas before I would make satin stitches as borders which took too much time and thread, recently I've used lace on this beige floral pouch. I'm still getting the hang of making the edges look as if it is part of the canvas itself. nitpicking at the stray threads to make it look clean. However, it is not for me to declare that I wouldn't do the satin stitched edges anymore as I do love that look about it. Perhaps not just for every piece. Time-wise, the lace takes little time to make and this piece took only about a day to finish, compared to the two to three days for the satin stitch. I'm quite satisfied.

Each day I am discovering new techniques and media to work with as well as little realizations about myself. Already at twenty-eight, an age, which, compared to what Dr. Lucy Worsley has mentioned in the BBC documentary of British Romance that thirty five is, as uttered about the colonel in Austen's Sense and Sensibility as, well...ancient, twenty-eight seem to be nearing extinction. I do hope NOT. No, such is not the case. Anyways, I've been side-tracked once again. Oh goodness, it's such a relief that this blog encourages the free flowing of thoughts or else I would have been answering to a strict writer mentor -- fortunately, I run this blog. Well then moving on!

So at twenty-eight, I've realized that I could be such a good manipulator of myself. Many a time have I surrendered to my own whims. Sleepy? Go on and take a nap. Craving for that piece of chocolate? Come on, a little kitkat won't hurt. Still feeling like the energizer bunny at 3 am? Well keep working on that story or illustration until 5am then!

Recently, however, I am able to stir myself away from such thoughts and actions. Perhaps the best example of all, is how I am able to coax myself away from melancholy. It may be a surprise to some but certainly not to me, that my melancholy has been nibbling away at my own self-worth and self-esteem. Melancholy, even if it sounds so elegant, is one unforgiving fiend. It kept bothering my already busy self with feelings that hold back any sort of progress as well as pulling me into the deep waters once again -- a place where I have already escaped from so many times. Believe me when I say that depression is not an easy obstacle to tackle. That one's harder than all Olympics events combined and no, I am not joking. No one really just snaps out of it. It involves a slow process of recuperation. 

And goodness how tedious it was. Nobody wants to cry as you're struggling to come up with new concepts for your projects. And nobody wants to feel like a burden. If anyone who suffers the same way as I do, or feel sadness and guilt, please know that you can go through this, although I tell you, it takes time and a lot of effort from you.

In order to get away, I deceived myself. Odious sounding, yes, but that's what I did. I pretended to be ecstatic. I looked at things that are relaxing, learned new bits of information from documentaries and made myself think that I am well, even if I certainly am not. This self-deception may not work for some and I do not recommend it, but at the time, encouragements from quotes or self-pep talk didn't work. It only made me feel worse because, if people felt better with such things, how broken am I to feel nothing and get nothing from them? And so self-deception it is, though without the consequences of course. 

And I should mention music! Music always soothes me. While it's alright to let it all out while listening to rather morose pieces, it's good to listen to those that make our hearts swell with happiness and cozy warmth. 

One particular piece flew in my direction one night at 11pm just as I was about to sleep (gasp). 'Winter Bear' by Kim Taehyung of BTS came at such a dark time in my August that when the first few notes of the song played, I was already a sobbing mess. And as the music video progressed, I thanked God for the little things that save me.  Bit of a fact, I've called Taehyung a grandpa version of Detective Conan back in 2014/2015 and I can't tell you how much it pleases this young grandma of how he is now. I do admire him so much and boldly speaking, I do feel like a kindred spirit with him. Ambitious sounding, but what can I say? Life is full of surprises. 

'Si tu voi ma mère' by Sidney Bechet is also a beautiful piece. I could listen to it all day while illustrating and writing. The same could be said of the other pieces of music which I indulge myself to listen to. One day I shall put up my playlist. 

Well, I'm just rambling now, am I? 

I hope you are all well! 

Dainty fields of flowers overwhelm my mind's eyes, my imagination going wild and free like a bird in a prairie. Amidst warm and rainy days I sit with needle in hand and thread in the other, the pushing and pulling from the wooden hoop bringing a comforting sense of calm to my rather restless spirit.


As I repeat this process, I realized I've made a handful of them. Knowing full well that I can't use them all for myself, I've decided to put them up in my Etsy shop, SunlitCuriosities. Though I myself am not a professional with embroidery, hope as I may that I am one right now, I do hope that they may find a home and be cherished the same way I felt as I made them, hands carefully crafting each leaf and delicate petal.


I find myself drawn towards floral patterns, the humble yet beautiful flowers that decorate a garden or a hidden corner never cease to capture my imagination. When I was little, I used to imagine faerie folk lingering between each blooms, tipping their dainty feet into the moist petals and very much reminiscent of Disney's Fantasia whose imagery of faeries waking up from inside their flower beds have left such an impression on my younger years. Also, the beautiful Thumbelina had been one of my favorite folk story, as well as Don Bluth's film of the same name. I even once dressed up as Thumbelina in our kindergarten program, though that story is quite the charmingly embarrassing moment...I would not relay it any further. Ha!








Strawberry fields have quite the adorable charm, don't they? I would like to grow my own one day. For now, I am content with 'sowing' them unto canvas.

 I remember those moments from my childhood when I would flip through story books and taking too much time looking at the illustrations, especially those of flora and fauna. I loved the details of them and even in the children's dictionaries or encyclopedias, they are what I usually enjoy poring over on. Pansies had held my fancy ever since watching Disney's 1951 film, Alice in Wonderland. They do look like faces! As I embroidered this flower, I liked to think back on those days filled with curiosity, and of the first time I saw a real pansy in 2017 while we were on a short vacation in Japan. The streets of Kurashiki within the charming city of Okayama are lined with so many of these floral darlings and I would have loved it if I can buy seeds and grow them here in the Philippines. But alas, like strawberries, pansies don't grow in hot and humid weather. And yet despite this, I feel better just stitching them on pouches instead and seeing them completed. I feel like I myself have grown these flowers with my very hands in my very own tiny garden.

My very own garden at the palm of my hand. 'Tis a whimsical thought, is it not?

Embroidery has always been a part of my days ever since I was a child. There are countless cross stitches and crochets that my mum made each day at home under golden sunlit and breezy days, and over at my grandmother's house there would be the dresses she makes with my uncle for clients, even for me and my cousins. We have lots of threads at home and even lots of beads and needles. I was, and still am enamored by the simple beauty of needle, fabric and thread.

I tried to create something similar to the art that my loved ones made when I was about 7 or 8-- I did a cross stitch piece following some of my mum's patterns but it didn't turn out as wonderful as theirs or in short, I wasn't any good with the patience that came with embroidery. 

A few years ago though, I started making friendship bracelets as a hobby. And then, just a few days ago, I had this simple yet remarkable feeling that I just had to create something with threads. I couldn't shake the feeling of excitement. And to make it even more thrilling for me, I stumbled upon a beautiful and helpful vintage sewing book that covered just about anything I wanted to know and more -- my mum was especially thrilled to see new crochet patterns and embroidery techniques. I just had started sketching ideas of what to sew and dove right in the embroidery days that I spent patiently and calmly beside my mother who was sewing a huge cross stitch piece of kois swimming in the water. I was immediately filled with the same kind of love and bliss that I felt during my childhood days as I watched my mother create anything with her needle and thread, even my doll's clothes and my very own apron. 

I feel like I am part of this huge tapestry, or a warm and cozy quilt made of the threads that connect my loved ones to me with all the threads and fabrics they used. And I feel... happy. 

So then I decided to go with the honey bee, a sweet and humble being that has always tickled my imagination. This is the first time I did an embroidery. It seemed tricky at first, especially planning the design and what kind of technique should I use, but the moment I started sewing, it felt like I have always been doing this for a long time now. Although I had pierced my fingers with the sharp needle lots of times, it wasn't unpleasant, it was just something that was part of the process of calm and patience. 

I have found the kind of needle and thread art that truly speaks to my being that involves the kind of hard work and creativity that connects me with my loved ones, especially my mother. She's really happy to be sewing with me. Now though, the fabric does not change from pristine white to a muddy one as I always did way back in those days...though just a few creases here and there. But we are happy. And that is what matters.