Growing up, I loved and loathed the summer season. Loved it because it was my time away from school and loathed it because I had to stay at home and amuse myself with things other than books and notebooks. Although summer activities were enticing, I always felt detached from them. I always wanted to spend my summer days somewhere, and not to do something.
I used to spend my summer days looking at the sky and wondering about life somewhere else. The "somewhere else" depended on what I was feeling at the moment. Once, I imagined myself in Paris eating macarons and watching people at the riverbanks. The other summer, I was swimming in the middle of Atlantic ocean and wondering how to survive in case a boat capsizes. Summer thoughts somewhere far served as my escape from the idleness of my situation.
Now that I'm older and summer vacation is nothing but a souvenir from my younger years, I'm starting to crave for the "summer spirit" that used to make me go nuts. I never thought I'd be nostalgic about summer, but here I am now- writing about how ageing made me sentimental about the hot and sunny Philippine summers.
Summer # 1
Once upon a time, it was a sunny Sunday morning of April when I saw my classmate attending the same Eucharistic celebration. I was around 13 years old when that happened and although I can't remember the colour of the shirt I was wearing, it was one of the memorable summer Sundays I had. It was during the time when Sundays used to make me melancholic about life. Thus, to see a classmate inside the church was comforting.
I'm not entirely sure why seeing my classmate felt comforting. I guess it had to do with the fact that I miss going to school that seeing a person I associate with school made me a little emotional. Nevertheless, every time I feel overwhelmed whenever I am surrounded by many people, which happens when you're inside the church, I always try to calm myself by imagining someone I know seated somewhere.
Summer # 2
The summer after I graduated from high school was depressing. The thought of leaving behind a few friends made me unsure of what lies ahead. Coming from a small school and a sheltered background made it very difficult for me to adapt to the changes brought by my circumstances. To ease my anxiety, I discovered one of the books my aunt bought for us- Carol Weston' Melanie in Manhattan.
Although the book was intended for middle school students, reading the journey of Melanie's life in New York City became the antidote to my anxiety. I was never interested about New York City, but that book convinced me to appreciate what the city has to offer- museums, pizzas, and different neighbourhoods. In a way, I'd like to consider this book as instrumental in encouraging me to learn more about the city. Last year, I read an autobiography of a city's native and my understanding of the city, thanks to Melanie in Manhattan, made the autobiography more interesting.
Around the same time, I also received a sketchbook as a graduation gift. I initially wanted a pencil set, however I had no idea as to how to use pencils with different grades, so I settled with just a sketchbook. Since I can't draw, I used the sketchbook as my practice notebook for hand lettering and calligraphy. It became the start of annually summer sketchbook purchase.
Summer # 3
The annual summer extravaganza lasted until I started working. Instead of buying sketchbooks and practicing my hand lettering skills, my jump from being a student to being a working individual shifted my priorities to purchasing notebooks for my random ramblings. These days, I indulge myself with documentaries about monarchies and reflections about the extraordinariness of mundane things.
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