An artist will always be influenced by their past, their cultural exposure, the travels of their youth, the mentors they were afforded, and the family in which they were raised. These have a great impact on one’s artistic inclination; they help to shape their artistic process, the way they view things, and how they translate the world in their creations. Whether it’s through music, fashion, fine arts, architecture, or any other art form, these influences always find their way to his creation being amplified in a fitting manner.
For instance, Paul McCartney of the Beatles wrote the timeless song “Yesterday” at just 21 years old. It resonated globally because the lyrics were remarkably profound and melancholy for someone so young.
“Why she, had to go
I don't know, she wouldn't say
I said, something wrong, I don't know
For yesterday”
People wondered where he got his inspiration for such a sad song considering his age. Sir Paul noted that pain and grief were the key elements. Having lost his mother at age 15, the grief had persisted long after her passing. The painful question—‘Why?’—had lived in his heart for years. Why, mom, did you have to go. The painful past found its way back through beautiful lyrics woven in this legendary song.
Another revolutionary figure, this time in the fashion industry, is Mademoiselle Coco Chanel, who transformed how women dressed in the 1920s. A known perfectionist, her attention to detail was as legendary as her principles. She famously believed that 'simplicity is the keynote of all true elegance' and that 'in order to be irreplaceable, one must always be different.'
The word 'iconic' is synonymous with Chanel. Her handbags, haute couture, and signature strings of faux pearls became timeless staples. Even her famous color palette of black, red, and white was reminiscent of the uniforms she wore as an orphan in a convent. Similarly, the hardware studs and emblems used to adorn her bags and cufflinks were inspired by the intricate details found on the grand staircase of the place she once called home.
Her minimalist style was a direct rebellion against the “fussy’ and restrictive corsets of the era, further proving her quote: “My life didn’t please me, so I created my life.”
It seems that pain is the “secret sauce” of a lasting work of art: that when being subjected to pain, something beautiful of great value is created, birthed, through the friction of human experience- if you will.
I witnessed this creative influence firsthand while watching my own mother. When she was learning to sew, she practiced by making blouses for my sisters and me. We were in elementary school then, and I remember how happy it made her; she was in her most joyful state whenever she was creating. Her work brought a certain sense of calmness to our home.
She even went as far as making our school uniforms. Though we attended a private Catholic school with a specific dress code, she used a design of her own. Even though they weren't exactly what the school prescribed, we 'got away with murder' because we wore them with such confidence. As children, we didn't mind looking different from the other students; in fact, we were incredibly proud to wear something our mother had created with her own hands.
Just a few of Inay's masterpieces which she created
for my sister and me to wear during special occasions at school.
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| Our Hawaiian costume that we wore for the United Nations Day celebration in 1977, in Puerto Galera. |
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| My white dress that I wore for the kindergarten moving-up ceremony in 1979, Batangas City. |
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| Another white dress that I wore during my First Communion in 1980, Batangas City. |
I never could have imagined that decades later—half a century, in fact—without a formal training, I would find myself bravely sewing. In my dreams, I see kaleidoscopes of patterns and vibrant colors falling from the ceiling of my room. Today, I sit before my sewing machine, combining those colors into what I call patchwork or quilt work.
This journey constantly reminds me of how my mother bravely navigated life. While Tatay was away daily attending to business, my Inay managed her quaint little souvenir shop entirely on her own—a place where we all helped to tend and keep. Though Inay was more introverted than I was as a child, she was never idle. She set her own rules for creativity and, remarkably, translated that artistry into a thriving business. Her shop did more than just augment my Tatay's income from operating his machine shop or his labor building boats and beach houses; it ensured that we had food on our table and sent us to private schools all the way through college.
A few months ago, I felt a surge of that same bravery. I created a beautiful quilt for my mother in honor of her lifelong hard work. She lives with me, and at eighty-three, she is navigating advanced dementia. Despite the challenges, I find such quiet strength and assurance in her presence. She reminds me that God provides for the widow and the orphan; as Psalm 68:5 says, He is a 'Father to the fatherless' and a 'defender of widows.' Inay models that scripture in the flesh, a living testament for all to see.
