once upon a time, i was addicted to cross-stitching. before that, i dabbled with crocheting too, but only because it was imperative for me to make something out of colorful balls of yarn in order to pass my second year of high school.  i made  an intricate centerpiece in one solid color which turned out to be quite an achievement for me because it was complicated as hell. of course, i couldn’t have done it without the help and guidance of my aunt. if it were up to me, i’d probably be a sophomore twice.

but cross-stitching, that i found therapeutic. as geeky as i sound in the next few sentences, i loved it. i took pleasure in the silence of my thoughts and in the rhythm of my hand pushing a shiny silver needle with two strands of DMC thread in and out of the holes. the fluidity of my motions interrupted only by an accidental needle prick which didn’t happen very often. i’m thinking of taking up the hobby once again. there’s something special about seeing an output made by your very own hands. where every stitch is a labor of love.

same with weaving. it doesn’t matter what the final product is. as long as you put your heart and soul into making it, you brand it as yours. even if in the end, your hard work becomes nothing but another material for another product sewn by another pair of hands to become a merchandise owned by yet another pair of hands by virtue of commerce.

no effort is ever wasted. the world would always thank you for your invaluable contribution, no matter how small you feel your contribution to be in the grand scheme of things.

which is why, at binuatan creations, the last leg of our puerto princesa city tour, i realized the value of every item they sold. because i knew that every one of those items took time and effort to weave. and every weaver dedicated a part of themselves onto every piece of dried grass threaded into the loom.

i tried it myself. i found the process tedious — mentally and physically, having to concentrate on where the colored strands go and which lever to push down and with which foot.

the final products consisted of bags, mats, window shades, and coin purses, among other things. foreign tourists would probably go crazy buying the items to take home with them. but i wasn’t a foreign tourist. native goods are not new to me so i merely looked around. while some items caught my eye, most of the stuff that i was looking at were too ordinary-looking. now, i’m no creative genius myself but i couldn’t help but wish they would improve their design into something, i don’t know, classy. unique. high-end.

a design worthy of the effort of the hands that made them.

but that’s just me though.