Where Go The Boats? Archival pen and ink on 12"x9" Bristol Board. This drawing is my impression of my Mother, whom I called Nanay, playing with my eldest sister Ched and eldest brother Daniel whom I call Nonoy. Nanay taught my sister and brother how to recite Robert Louis Stevenson's poem "Where Go The Boats?" If you want to know, this took me 22 (almost continuous) hours to draw because I changed my technique. I finished the line drawing first and it proved extremely difficult. I am used to winging my drawing where I finish one area at a time. P.S. Toto, do you see the kasoy tree? I drew that for you!
At my Mother's funeral, my eldest sister delivered the eulogy. She talked about being raised by our beloved Nanay. My sister mentioned her character, her intelligence, her wit and a host of other traits that made us all eight children and our late Father love her so. Then she mentioned how Nanay made toys for us and played with us. She made paper dolls, masks, tent houses, origami. She played baseball, hide and seek, made makeshift play cooking utensils and taught us how to cook and set the table. We pretended to chew the food and I developed a sound that everyone later coined as "Baba Isidcille" (Mouth of Isid by Cecille). Tia Isid was the elderly lady we adored, who lived down the street. She and Tia Tiba were the ones who packed garlic on my cut, the one I mentioned on the dragonfly post. But I digress.
Nanay taught us origami. We learned to fold many kinds of paper. We made hats, purses and paper boats. We loved to play with paper boats. We made them in varying sizes. I always loved making the tiniest paper boats. I think I hold the record for making the tiniest paper boat ever! I folded it under the magnifying glass and it floated.
I seldom talk about my older elder brother. He is a mechanical engineer. He taught me many things when I was a little kid. He is artistic and creative and has a high mechanical and technical IQ. At the age of nine or younger, he built a toy car made of wood that he can pedal and steer. He let me use his Rotring pens and he explained the slide rule principle to me. I did not understand the latter. He taught me how to draw floor plans and drafting using scales. He let me read his architectural and House Beautiful magazines. He knows a lot about plants and trees and he can cook. He works as a mechanical engineer in Northern Luzon. He used to take me along in his walks but we had a big fight. When I was a high school student, we wrestled and he pinned me down and made me smell his armpit. I was so incensed that I struck him with a 2"x2". He stopped playing with me ever since. Still, I love my brother very much.
My eldest sister loves our brother very much. They are very close. They shared many difficult times. As babies and toddlers, they moved with our Mother from one air raid shelter to another during the Japanese war and occupation, while our Father fought in the guerrilla army.
This is a drawing of my brother and sister with our Mother. She is teaching them how to launch their paper boats. Nanay often recited the poem "Where go the Boats?" to my sister and brother. I learned there is a technique to paper boat launching. Not mere paper folding. One has to use the right kind of paper, one that won't get soggy before it reaches it's destination. You have to launch it at the right bank and steer it out of the reeds, roots and weeds along the canal banks being careful not to sink it. You have to guide it through the current until you let it be in open water. Soon it will reach its destination, in our case, it was the corner of Libertad Street and Yulo Avenue, in front of Tia Ana's store. Tia Ana was a mean storekeeper with dark brown skin and curly hair. She always wore an A-line house dress which looked like a fat and short letter I. She yelled at us and threw on the counter the dulce de lemon candies we bought for one centavo each. Sometimes she literally shouted "What do you want?". We were afraid to go there but she was the closest corner store. She acted as if she was doing us a favor. I think she had a bad menopause. So we preferred to go across the street to Tia Deli, the sweet, kind and gentle fair lady who always smiled at us when she gave us the candy.
See there's a lesson here. When you reach your destination, do not hang on just because that's where you meant to go. Do not tolerate bad treatment and abuse. Sometimes it is necessary to go across the street. Just be careful, you don't get run over. Ah! A kid's life, so complicated, and you thought this was just about paper boats!
Nanay taught us origami. We learned to fold many kinds of paper. We made hats, purses and paper boats. We loved to play with paper boats. We made them in varying sizes. I always loved making the tiniest paper boats. I think I hold the record for making the tiniest paper boat ever! I folded it under the magnifying glass and it floated.
I seldom talk about my older elder brother. He is a mechanical engineer. He taught me many things when I was a little kid. He is artistic and creative and has a high mechanical and technical IQ. At the age of nine or younger, he built a toy car made of wood that he can pedal and steer. He let me use his Rotring pens and he explained the slide rule principle to me. I did not understand the latter. He taught me how to draw floor plans and drafting using scales. He let me read his architectural and House Beautiful magazines. He knows a lot about plants and trees and he can cook. He works as a mechanical engineer in Northern Luzon. He used to take me along in his walks but we had a big fight. When I was a high school student, we wrestled and he pinned me down and made me smell his armpit. I was so incensed that I struck him with a 2"x2". He stopped playing with me ever since. Still, I love my brother very much.
My eldest sister loves our brother very much. They are very close. They shared many difficult times. As babies and toddlers, they moved with our Mother from one air raid shelter to another during the Japanese war and occupation, while our Father fought in the guerrilla army.
This is a drawing of my brother and sister with our Mother. She is teaching them how to launch their paper boats. Nanay often recited the poem "Where go the Boats?" to my sister and brother. I learned there is a technique to paper boat launching. Not mere paper folding. One has to use the right kind of paper, one that won't get soggy before it reaches it's destination. You have to launch it at the right bank and steer it out of the reeds, roots and weeds along the canal banks being careful not to sink it. You have to guide it through the current until you let it be in open water. Soon it will reach its destination, in our case, it was the corner of Libertad Street and Yulo Avenue, in front of Tia Ana's store. Tia Ana was a mean storekeeper with dark brown skin and curly hair. She always wore an A-line house dress which looked like a fat and short letter I. She yelled at us and threw on the counter the dulce de lemon candies we bought for one centavo each. Sometimes she literally shouted "What do you want?". We were afraid to go there but she was the closest corner store. She acted as if she was doing us a favor. I think she had a bad menopause. So we preferred to go across the street to Tia Deli, the sweet, kind and gentle fair lady who always smiled at us when she gave us the candy.See there's a lesson here. When you reach your destination, do not hang on just because that's where you meant to go. Do not tolerate bad treatment and abuse. Sometimes it is necessary to go across the street. Just be careful, you don't get run over. Ah! A kid's life, so complicated, and you thought this was just about paper boats!
Where Go The Boats?
Robert Louis Stevenson
1913, A Child's Garden of Verses and Underwoods
Robert Louis Stevenson
1913, A Child's Garden of Verses and Underwoods
Dark brown is the river.
Golden is the sand.
It flows along for ever,
With trees on either hand.
Green leaves a-floating,
Castles of the foam,
Boats of mine a-boating—
Where will all come home?
On goes the river
And out past the mill,
Away down the valley,
Away down the hill.
Away down the river,
A hundred miles or more,
Other little children
Shall bring my boats ashore.
Golden is the sand.
It flows along for ever,
With trees on either hand.
Green leaves a-floating,
Castles of the foam,
Boats of mine a-boating—
Where will all come home?
On goes the river
And out past the mill,
Away down the valley,
Away down the hill.
Away down the river,
A hundred miles or more,
Other little children
Shall bring my boats ashore.
