x years in the making
I’m not a writer. I have nothing published, not unless you count those story threads on the old candymag.com forum (was it Teen Talk? I forget). If you’ve ever gotten a comment from me on Instagram, it was probably just a short “ganda,” “wow,” “omg,” or maybe an emoji or two, or three. I overthink all my Slack replies, even the short ones. Trust and believe, it took way too long to write this paragraph.
I struggle with expressing myself through written words, and I’ve always been insecure about putting them on a public platform without an alias to hide behind.
Visuals are a different story. I don’t know where the confidence (kapal ng mukha?) comes from, but I’ve always enjoyed sharing my work publicly. I think I was lucky to get into social media during its early days, when what was considered “cool” or “accepted” was still taking shape. I’ve been through the cringe and honestly I’m still in it, but I’ve learned to touch grass and have since graduated from caring too much about what I put out into the world. I still do, of course, but it’s not as crippling anymore, which is why I share a lot and I share whatever.
I’ve been trying to figure out how to channel that same confidence into writing. A big part of what got me into type design was reading Klim Type Foundry’s blog, specifically the post about the Untitled Collection. In it, Kris Sowersby talked about creating a typeface that’s normal and unrecognizable, work that doesn’t shout for attention. That felt rare in design, where you’re usually aiming to stand out. It was a fresh take, at least to a very impressionable me back in 2017. The project description alone wouldn’t have revealed the thought process behind it to the extent that the blog post did. To me, knowing the story made the work feel more alive.
In 2023, I started to plan for a newsletter. I had a whole project page for it on Notion, complete with goals, post formats, outlines, and promo strategy. I even had a pretty solid draft announcement post made with the help of a friend (thanks, Toni). I thought it could be a way to write about my work and Philippine type in general, but nothing ever came of it. I chickened out and focused on other things (sorry, Toni).
I realize that I put too much pressure on myself to make it a whole thing. I thought having a perfectly structured, think-piecey newsletter was the only way to go about it… But let’s be real, that’s not me. My thoughts aren’t organized. My process isn’t deep. I go by vibes. And the more I grow in this industry, the more I understand when something is for public consumption, meant to promote or perform, and when it’s just for yourself. Even if you do plan to share it.
In time, my reading preferences have expanded. I still like Klim’s blog, I still look forward to reviews on Brand New. I still get excited whenever Casual Archivist lands in my inbox because I get to discover interesting historical design artifacts. Their last post on vintage placemats made me think of restaurants my family would frequent that would probably fit the same vibe. Maybe Pancake House? Max’s? But now I also find myself enjoying reading about life and how that affects work.
Baler, 2017—long hair, no bangs
Recently, I discovered Crystal Zapata’s blog. Her trip to Portland reminded me of our mid-year retreats in Baler and how those would always help energize me to power through the rest of the year. Flavia Zim brought Contraforma back with a very raw, personal entry. I thought that after graduating Type West in 2022, I’d go full force in type design and create a whole catalogue of work. That did not happen and I still struggle to bring my typeface, Yor, to the finish line. Reading Flavia’s comeback entry was not exactly similar to my experience, and in no way am I even close to the kind of transition she had to deal with, but it was oddly validating.
“Momentum isn't magic, it's consistency, and action will teach us what thinking never could.” –Contraforma