Ever since I was a little girl, there was always music playing in our home. Mostly from the radio or the television, sometimes from my mom, but often from my dad. It was part of the air we breathed.
I grew up in a subdivision called Odelco, a place I've often described as our own version of Little House on the Prairie. Everyone knew everyone. Neighbors looked after one another. And at the center of it all was a small chapel, the heart of our little world.
Because my family was active in the church, I became involved too. I joined the choir, learned how to play the piano, and tried my hand at the guitar. I excelled in neither, but I loved being part of something larger than myself.
Through the choir, we met other groups from neighboring towns, especially during Lent as we prepared for Easter Sunday. There was something powerful about voices rising together – different people, one harmony.
Music has always lived in the background of my life.
If you know Filipino families, you know that gatherings almost always include music. And more often than not, a karaoke machine comes to life. From what I remember, nearly every household had one in our neighborhood.
As I grew older, I sometimes regretted not putting more effort into piano or guitar. With time, though, I began to appreciate what I once overlooked. Much like how we resist spinach as children and later grow to love it.
That same shift happened with drawing.
Music slowly found its way into my art throughout the years. The first guitar piece I created was a split guitar in watercolor. I've long been fascinated by the idea of duality. Perhaps because I'm a Gemini and have embraced the idea that I carry two sides within me.
I'm drawn to art, but I'm also deeply interested in how things work. I've been told those two don't always go hand in hand, the artistic and the technical. I can't say I sit at the top of either field. I seem to hover somewhere in the middle, and that's exactly where I feel most at home.
The guitar piece I'm sharing now reflects that duality and the harmony between those two sides. I don't believe we're either creative or technical. I believe we carry both. Sometimes one has the volume turned down low. I'm slowly turning mine up and making a melody of the two. This piece is now available as part of my Music Inspired Art collection—translated into a few everyday formats like a notebook, framed piece, and textile that you can live with, not just look at.
Explore the → Music Inspired Art Collection
As I continue building My Little Fe, I'm allowing those parts of my story to surface more freely.
Dragonflies.
Nature.
Words.
And now, music.
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1 comment
Beautifully written. A nice piece down memory lane that reminds us how we sre who ee are today.