Let me tell you of a beautiful place called Silay. I first stepped in Silay in August of 1972. That's exactly 50 years ago. I may have been too young to absorb the entire richness of the place but I do recall a fascination for all the old houses which lined its streets. They were not just old houses but old, majestic houses.
I grew up in a village where all I saw were mid-century modern homes and so seeing all these ornate houses were a treat to my eyes, my mind trying to draw similarities from the Disney castle I would see in the storybooks of my youth.
What brought me there was my late father's one-man-show at the Sen. Jose C. Locsin CULTURAL and CIVIC CENTER slated that month. My parents and I traveled by boat and were met at the Banago Port by Tito Ramon Hofilena, who organized my dad's show.
In due time, our family moved from Manila to Negros. Though we lived in Bacolod, trips to Silay were frequent given that every time we had guests from Manila, we would always take them to Silay to meet with Tito Mon who showed the art pieces in his home.
I've always loved Silay. The food, the architecture, the art, everything in it resonates though I am not a Silaynon by birth nor by lineage. I guess my late father had the same vibe too having been surrounded with close friends who were Silaynons.
I've said it once on Facebook and it still deserves writing again. I'm not going back to Bacolod. I grew up in Bacolod but as an artist, Silay is the place to be at. The Little Paris of Negros as it is properly nicknamed. Beth Day-Romulo aptly named it in the the title of her article in the 1970s as the place where "Artists are Heroes".
Given a chance I'd love to help Silay be packaged really well. But that's just the ad man in me speaking. Nevertheless, whether that happens or not is not a big deal. It's not a priority. I'll just be happy being the ad man turned artist who has a studio in Silay, up in the hills, drawing inspiration from Mount Mandalagan.
Yes, the artist-writer relishing Silay's glorious past and vibrant future.




