There is a medium that had taken my heart with so much enthusiasm. 

Dry Pastel.

In my high school years, I've used pastel for almost everything. The sun in the packaging of it made me smile, as did the effect it has on my artwork. Learning a particular technique from my cousin who got it from his teacher, I smudged the pastel with tissue to make it as my base and then from there I would cover it with watercolor pencils. And then I added my own technique:  I brush it over with wet brush and added a new layer of colored pencil once again. Sometimes I would repeat the process all over again until the artwork looked as if it was printed. I rather liked it, to be honest. However, the pigment would sometimes be too 'rough' for me and it didn't give off that glow that I was looking for. It's still a good medium though.

Fast forward to this month, I stumbled upon Caran D'Ache's Dry Pastels. I have been using their colored pencils for quite sometime starting this year and goodness, they are so rich in texture and the pigments so vivid I could hardly exert too much pressure while using them. Just a stroke and a luscious vivid texture has already made its mark on the paper. 

And so as I looked for more colors (I buy individual pencils as I think I do not need particular hues that are included in their sets, plus they're very much ostentatious for me), my mum and I saw their dry pastels at the store. I wasn't sure if I wanted to get one. They're expensive -- kuripot me said no even if the curious me said yes. But upon seeing the pigments, I remember Claire Keane's artwork where she used dry pastels -- I've never seen such beautiful and ethereal illustrations made with dry pastel.

I battled against myself. Is it worth the price? And then Christmas came early -- my mum told me she would buy it for me as a gift. Now, I'm not apt to accept such an offer. However, my mum told me that if she offered such a thing, I should accept, that if help comes to one, one must be gracious enough to accept it. And so I did. 

And goodness, how beautiful the dry pastels were! And how thankful I was and still am! I used the same technique of smudging it with tissues and cotton buds and then applying some colored pencils. I felt ecstatic; is this how Ms. Keane felt? Or how Hans Holbein felt with his pastels? Utter and sheer delight! But of course, at first I was afraid. But who wasn't afraid in the beginning? 

'Spring' is my third dry pastel piece and all I could say is how happy I am with her. <3 

I have been so much enamored with dry pastel. It is such a delicate yet tedious medium but one which I find myself devoted to. Dry pastels and colored pencils by @carandache 
are so lovely and I'm very much happy with them. 

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! 

They call her by her name but such a thing could remain a secret from us and so we only know her by her title and she is called The Keeper of the Cranes. The majestic birds entrust their lives only to her hands, she whose intentions are pure, she whose love for them is as untainted as the world reflected in their marble eyes. With the keeper by their side, nothing could ever lay harm to them, not even man in their supposed boundless power. Nothing. 


This illustration means a lot to me. The keeper's love for the cranes extend far beyond the confines of what it means for conservation. She protects them not just for them to continue on living as 'species' but as living beings who are deserving of this world. She appreciates the lives of every living being, finding beauty in all their flaws and complexities that she is willing to go the extra mile to keep such creatures from extinction. If we love this life so much, then we must protect it and all the living beings in it as well, and also the world which we live in. 

Created with graphite and colored pencils as well as watercolor.

The scent of wood drifted in the cold air, red and orange fluttering against my eyes as curiosity overflowed in my ever restless heart. Standing there amidst stretches of fields, mountains and seas, I found myself taking photos of those moments in my mind, freezing them in my memory.
The vibrant sky seemed to always hover with an air of expectancy -- there's always something new to see with this curious mind of mine. I was in a whole new different place though it felt as if I have been here before. Ah, I felt the same way when I first saw that photograph of the fields on a June day -- I knew I had to be here.

And so on a cold November day, I set forth to live in an unforgettable second home.

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?