Page Off Leaping the

Book Excerpt Only
Leaping
Off the
Page
How to write
better descriptions
C A R LOM A R A RCA NGEL DAOA NA
JEN N Y B. O R IL LOS
Copyright (c) 2014 by Carlomar Arcangel Daoana and Jenny B. Orillos
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced,
stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted,
in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical,
photocopying, recording or otherwise,
without the prior written permission
of the authors.
Printed in Manila, Philippines
Limited Edition
Book design by Richard Arroyo
For more writing tips, visit the authors’ website at:
www.designedbywords.com
CONTENTS
PREFACE: Before We Begin, or How to Use this Book
INTRODUCTION: Leaping Off the Page: A Guide for Beginners
PART ONE: TERMS
+LÄUP[PVUZ
+L]LSVWPUN@V\Y6IZLY]H[PVUZRPSSZ
PART TWO: TECHNIQUES
1 |:WLJPÄJP[`HUK*SHYP[`
6IUM\PM[]JRMK\][QVOIKWVKZM\MIVLI[XMKQÅKVW]V
=[MM`IK\IVL^Q[]ITUWLQÅMZ[
Employ active vivid verbs
16
19
34
2 | +VTPUHU[0TWYLZZPVU
Verbs and dominant impression
37
3 | >YP[PUN^P[O[OL:LUZLZ
Sense of Sight
Color
Light
Patterns
Shape and size
Perspectives
Sense of Touch
Touch and carry
Manner
Temperature
Intensity
Physical reaction
Profession
Sense of Smell
The name of a scent
The scent itself
Memory
42
42
53
64
Levels and layers
Perfumes
Physical reaction
Something is done to the object
Sense of Taste
The gustatory map
Eating with the other senses
The pan
The plate and palate
Sense of Hearing
Surrounded by sound
Composition
What does it sound like
Abstractions
Sound’s effect
Speak up
Words as sound
Crunch
75
85
4 | -PN\YH[P]L3HUN\HNL
98
5 | 6YNHUPaPUN+L[HPSZ
Cataloguing
Spatial
Temporal
100
6 | +LZJYPW[PVUI`5LNH[PVU
109
7 | *VTWHYLHUK*VU[YHZ[
112
8 | )HK+LZJYPW[PVUZ
How to Know When Description is Enough
114
PART THREE: APPLICATIONS
9 | >YP[PUN(IV\[H7LYZVU
Reveal an aspect of a personality
Describe characters through their environment
Reveal their aspirations, hopes, fears
Show their effect on people
Objectify the subject
123
10 | >YP[PUN(IV\[H7SHJLVY:L[[PUN
Strive for fresh words and images
Be selective
.QVLLM\IQT[\PI\IZM[QOVQÅKIV\WZLQ[\QVK\Q^M
128
11 | >YP[PUN(IV\[HU6IQLJ[
Writing about home and design
How to write a restaurant menu
132
12 | >YP[PUN(IV\[HU,]LU[VY(J[PVU
Chronology
Highlights
Focus or theme
Combination of object and action
139
AFTERWORD
143
READINGS
Into the Quiet Enchantment of Gubat, Sorsogon by Roel Hoang Manipon
Mountain Memories of Sacred Sagada by Carlomar Arcangel Daoana
A Blessing of Fruitcakes by Jenny B. Orillos
144
SOURCES
161
*BOOK EXCERPT ONLY*
>90;05.>0;/;/,:,5:,:
3
Rooted in the physical world, our senses offer a direct translation of
our experience. When we describe through the senses, we show how
our eyes, ears, nose, tongue, skin and body interact with the world. In
writing it down, we capture what we saw, heard, smelled, felt, tasted and moved
with so that our readers can do the same vicariously. It’s a very subjective way to
describe things, but the senses are the closest we can get to evoke the subject or
experience.
The world is full of things we can reach out and touch. “How sense-luscious
the world is,” says Diane Ackerman in her seminal work, A Natural History of the
Senses. As sensuous beings, we observe and explore in an attempt to understand
the physical world. Writing using our senses allows us to articulate our observation
and derive insights from it in the most tangible way our words can afford. From
sense to sense, we connect to our readers.
Using adjectives is the simplest way to describe with our senses. You can
say you bought a stinky cheese from the deli. The cat’s spiny whiskers brushed
your arm. But good writers take advantage of the intimacy and interaction the
senses provide. They make us feel the joy of a child trampling through wet grass
and mud. From tactile to olfactory, writers concretize the senses using nouns and
^MZJ[[PW_PW_IVWJRMK\ZMIK\[KWVVMK\[\WUMUWZaWZY]ITQÅM[\PMLMOZMMWN the experience.
The point is not merely to record sense impression but to color it in a way
that the reader will somehow feel and know our response to a particular subject
as we observe it. While we believe that good description often involves combining
information from different faculties, we delineate each sense so you’ll be guided
on how to utilize the potential of each of bringing the world ever closer to your
readers.
:,5:,6-:0./;
When we are asked to describe with images, the eyes take the lead in both
WJ[MZ^I\QWVIVLIK\]IT_ZQ\QVO)UQ[[QVOXMZ[WV_QTTJMUW[\TQSMTaQLMV\QÅMLJa
how their face looked like, what clothes they wore, how tall they were. Our dream
house appears in our mind’s eye complete with the shade of blue on the wall and
the décor in every room, not how it smells or sounds like.
We describe with our eyes—the dominant sense. In Sensuous Living, Nancy
Conger says “90 to 95 percent of all our sensory perceptions are visual and over
80 percent of what we learn comes to us visually.” Our eyes widen in wonder, we
take a second look or look even closer.
42 L E A P I N G O F F T H E PAG E
When we regard people, places and things, we are guided by color, light, and
forms. From the various points of view we take, our perspective changes. The
[MV[MWN [QOP\_QTTIT_Ia[JM\PMÅZ[\TQVMWN ITUW[\ITTLM[KZQX\QWV[M^MVQN _M¼ZM
distilling the images using the other less dominant senses.
*6369
Pierre Bonnard enters a museum where he daubs a stroke of color on his painting
WN IÆW_MZJMOQV[\PMVIZZI\Q^MQVIXWMUJa4QVLI8I[\IV*]\QV[\MILWN R][\
saying it was red, Pastan takes a step further and portrays the color as vermillion.
The shade, which you can put between red and orange, accurately depicts the
French painter’s style. Bonnard was famous for the intensity of colors in his work.
Like Bonnard’s, our eyes are bombarded daily with a myriad of colors beyond
the primary red, green and blue. While objects may just really be red, writers
sometimes have to match it with a more precise name the same way a painter
agonizes over his tube of paints. Red can be crimson, cadmium red, brick red,
carnelian, ruby, garnet, poppy, plum, scarlet, wild cherry, wine, even lobster red.
Blue-green can be teal, cyan, aqua, aquamarine, mint or jade.
<PM[XMKQÅKQ\aWN \PMKWTWZ\ISM[WV\PMY]ITQ\aWN \PMVIUMWZ\PMWJRMK\Q\
was named after—like carnelian, ruby, garnet, aquamarine and jade, which are
gems. Plum or wild cherry evokes something juicy and luscious. Short of bringing
a color wheel or fabric swatches with you at all times, acquaint yourself with
the various shades and hues and match it with its exact name. In Roel Hoang
Manipon’s travel essays, the colors of the sand and sea take on exact palettes.
As much as the water, the seven-kilometer stretch of sand proves to be appealing
because of its lighter color. We are suckers for white sand. Though not exactly
white, the sand here is fine and the color of old ivory, good enough to let it cling on
the wet skin.
(Roel Hoang Manipon, “Into the Quiet Enchantment of Gubat, Sorsogon,”
Experience Philippines Travel and Living, Volume 3, No. 2, 2007, p. 17.)
In his description of the quality of sand at Rizal Beach in Gubat, Sorsogon,
Manipon shows us that the long stretch of sand is not just white, but ivory white.
In the same story, Manipon also describes a visit to the Tiris River. As they
MV\MZ\PMZQ^MZ\PMQZOZW]XMVKW]V\MZ[¹I[_IZUWN LZIOWVÆQM[TQSMXITMZ][[M\
KWVNM\\Q\PI\ZMN][M[\WNITTº,ZIOWVÆQM[IZMVW\R][\JZW_VQV[MK\[ÆaQVOQV\PMQZ
direction—it’s the color of russet (as in potatoes) and their movement is likened
to confetti suspended in the air. A visual feast in the eyes of a city-born writer.
L E A P I N G O F F T H E PAG E 43
Colors are important when describing the interiors of a home and other spaces.
In “Wilmer Wonderland,” our description of Wilmer Lopez’s interior design for
a condo space enumerates the predominant, holiday-themed colors used:
In lieu of the proverbial Christmas tree (which is pretty impractical and burdensome
for a scaled-down space) was the opulent centerpiece on a clear-glass coffee
table consisting of candelabra holding candles awash with silver glitters, pale
gold metal balls, a combo of frosted and shiny lavender balls and purple dangling
gems—all garlanded with touches of green.
The predominant colors were reflected in the throw pillows sitting
resplendently on the sofa Wilmer designed—they were marked by Byzantine stars
that looked like glittering snowflakes.
The names of the colors are basic—silver, gold, lavender, purple—because the
focus is on the décor, not the colors. When you just mean red, say it’s red. Strive
for accuracy rather than novelty in picking the right color name. Make the name
serve a purpose rather than a whim.
In the example, vibrant verbs support the color names of the centerpiece
on the table. The candelabra are awash with silver glitters. The centerpiece is
garlanded (instead of “hung” or “festooned”) which mimics the way the green
[]ZZW]VL[\PMKMV\MZXQMKM-^MV\PM+PZQ[\UI[JITT[ZMÆMK\PWTQLIa[XQZQ\¸\PMa
are frosted and shiny. The pillows on the sofa glitterTQSM[VW_ÆISM[
30./;
4QOP\ INNMK\[ PW_ _M [MM \PQVO[ 1V I ÆQKS WN \PM [_Q\KP QV \PM UW^MUMV\ WN clouds, in entering doors—light brightens up or shadows objects. To convey
mood, weave lighting and how it illuminates a subject into the overall description.
1V W]Z XZWÅTM WV .QTQXQVW OTI[[ [K]TX\WZ :IUWV 7ZTQVI _M WJ[MZ^ML PW_
light affects the artist’s raw materials.
The sculptor Ramon Orlina’s backyard is littered with chunks of raw glass drawing
light from the heat of the late morning sun. Cloudy green or dark brown, they are
like quarried stones, waiting to be cut, ground, polished and turned into an Orlina
masterpiece.
(JBO, “Sculpting Light.” Bluprint Magazine, 2007, p. 80)
Since light passes through glass, it makes sense that light is present as part of
the description. The light source is from the “heat of the late morning sun” in
44 L E A P I N G O F F T H E PAG E
the backyard. If we had been describing wood or metal, the lighting may not be
essential in the description unless to emphasize the polish or surface.
“Description that moves is description that works,” advises Gary Provost in
his book Make Your Words Work1V\PM7ZTQVIXZWÅTM\PMOTI[[LZI_[TQOP\NZWU
the sun, which makes it appear to be “doing something” instead of “just being
something,” an example of description that moves.
In feature articles on interior design, the writer most often asks the designer
how light was utilized in the space. In our piece on Wilmer Lopez, light was used
to help enlarge the space.
The designer also cleverly worked with light in adding dimension to the space.
He dropped the ceiling and infused the space in between with white light. The
entertainment console, which he also designed, looked as though hovering with
radiance the tint of sunshine.
(CAD, “Wilmer Wonderland,” Condo Central, December 2006-January 2007,
p. 36.)
The description mentions the dropped ceiling and the installation of “white light”
in between spaces. It goes further by showing the effect of the light in one of the
furnishings in the living area—a console that somewhat hovers with radiance the tint
of sunshine. The sunshine leads us back to the use of the white light, completing
a description of light.
In “Love At First Site,” which is about the work of Cebu-based architect
James Jao, we keep it simple. But the description of the light animates the house:
Because the house basks with a constant supply of light allowed through
by the slanting glass wall, James installed only a single wall lamp on
the veneered wood panels to illuminate the living room.
(CAD, “Love at first site,” Area, 2008, p. 121.)
The house is not just lighted, it basks in it. Details such as “slanting glass walls”
and “single wall lamp” indicate the sources of light.
Light itself casts different effects on the subject. “Lamp light conveys
intimacy, while harsh overhead lighting casts sharp shadows and is unkind to
facial expressions,” says Peggy Hadden in The Artist’s Quest of Inspiration. In the
outdoors, one often looks better because of the natural light. The subject will be
cast in a different light when the time frame changes from sunrise, midday, midafternoon to sun down or evening.
In the absence of light, our vision may be impaired but it’s not entirely
impossible to write a clear description in the dark. We rely on our sense of touch
L E A P I N G O F F T H E PAG E 45
to aid us in “seeing” and incorporate the description into the narrative. Because
of that, our subject and description moves, even in the dark, like Manipon’s
description of the Liyang Caves in Gubat, Sorsogon.
We muddy the pool as we cross to the mouth, which bears the scars of boorish
visitors, who have inscribed their being there on the moist walls. The cave is
dark and narrow, and we have to form a single line to enter. No one has thought
of bringing a flashlight. The dark engulfs us little by little. It is like entering a
womb. Our feet splatter through the running water flowing out of the cave. It gets
narrower the farther we go. The walls and dark seem to close in, and we turn
back. Now moistened, we squint at the light when we get out and bungle like
newborns.
(Roel Hoang Manipon, “Into the Quiet Enchantment of Gubat, Sorsogon.”
Experience Philippines Travel and Living, Vol. 3, No. 2, 2007, p. 19.)
From the mouth of the cave, one can still sense light so Manipon could still
describe the vandalism on the walls by previous visitors. As his group walks
further, he mentions the cave’s darkness and its narrowness. He supports these
details by showing that they had to form a single line to enter and that no one
brought a source of light.
<W PMTX IVQUI\M \PM ]V[MMV PM ][M[ ÅO]ZM[ WN [XMMKP¸\PM LIZS MVO]TÅVO
them, like entering a womb. The sense of touch makes us feel the running water,
through the visitors’ feet. Finally, Manipon shows us the effect of coming from
dark to light—they squint—then liken themselves to “newborns” (who also squint,
by the way), alluding to the womb he mentioned earlier.
When necessary, show your readers the light.
7(;;,95:
The indigenous peoples of the Philippines have a strong weaving tradition, their
designs borne out of a weaver’s dreams or motifs learned as a young apprentice.
Whether on the loom or by hand, the weavers produce patterns that appeal
\W\PMMaMIVLZMÆMK\\PMK]T\]ZMWN \PMQZXMWXTM<PM/ILLIVO_WUMVWN \PM
Cordillera Mountains wear the burasi, a traditional woven jacket with stripes of
white and red. In southern Philippines, the Maranao weave textiles with a wavy
pattern, called balud.
These designs, motifs or embellishments repeat itself like a chant, drawing
the eye to what’s unique about a subject. A pattern emerges to help us look at
form through details. In this piece on the embroiderers of Lumban, Quezon,
46 L E A P I N G O F F T H E PAG E
patterns are described by how they are formed on the cloth:
The embroiderers have regular design patterns. Popular is the pitchera, design
forming into a U or two vertical rows on the front of the dress. Batok, literally
“nape,” has embroidery concentrated on the upper portion of the dress, while
Chinepa has it on the lower portion. Raya features the U pattern as well as stripes
of embroidery. “Scattered” has embroidered designs scattered all over the dress,
and a more concentrated version is called “All Over.”
(Roel Hoang Manipon, “Heritage in Stitches: Celebrating Embroidery in
Lumban,” The Gridcrosser Files.)
The names of the design are also an integral part of the description, such as
the “batok,” which indicates where the stitches are sewn and “scattered,” which
pertains to the designs literally scattered all over the fabric.
Aside from fabric, mats, and clothing, patterns are present in artworks,
[K]TX\]ZM XW\\MZa IZKPQ\MK\]ZM 1V ÆWZI IVL NI]VI _M [MM \PMU I[ ¹I VI\]ZIT
WZ KPIVKM UIZSQVO KWVÅO]ZI\QWV WZ LM[QOVº IKKWZLQVO \W :IVLWU 0W][M
Publishing’s Dictionary.com). Say “teak” and you’ll see the tight grain of this wood.
Say “zebra” and you’ll be besieged by black and white stripes.
If you want to emphasize the surface of the object as something of wonder,
write about the patterns you see. In our description for a set of handmade plates,
we direct the reader to the unique edges formed by the potter.
Though some people contemplate their life in a swirl of tea leaves in a cup, Tessy
Pettyjohn proves that a plate can very well convey the rhythms of life. In an exhibit
at the Avellana Art Gallery, Pettyjohn featured a suite of porcelain plates in varying
depth of colors and textures, each a unique evocation of a mind-and-hand
coordination. The edge of the plates undulates with ripples and ridges, mimicking
a tree’s concentric rings or the pond when a frog has leapt.
We liken the pattern to “ripples and ridges” which repeat itself from the core
to the edge of the plates. We further help the reader along by using two similar
images—the growth rings of a tree and the ripple created as a frog leaps into it
(inspired by the popular haiku attributed to Basho).
1V ¹;MV[]IT ;PMTTÅ[Pº NWWL _ZQ\MZ IVL MLQ\WZ <ZWa *IZZQW[ KWV[QLMZ[ \PM
oyster. She skips the luscious meat within and focuses on the pattern on the
half shell. She writes, “Beautiful bivalves with arresting ridges that mimic the
patterns waves leave upon sand.” Barrios starts with “beautiful bivalves,” already
preparing us for what comes next with a duet of alliterations—b and b, v and
v—the latter echoing the visual “ridges” of the shell. Finally she renders how the
L E A P I N G O F F T H E PAG E 47
ridges resemble another pattern, that of waves crashing on sand. We see (and
hear) her rendition of the oyster.
Sometimes, scaling the surface of your subject is just as deep.
,_LYJPZL!7H[[LYUZVMTL[HWOVY
Describe the patterns of the following by associating them with a similar object, as
in our example on the oyster.
1. ;XQVM[WN I[\IZÅ[P
2. .Q[P[KITM[\QTIXQIUQTSÅ[PWZKTW_VÅ[P
3. Mahogany
4. Nylon shells or clams
5. Rapunzel’s hair
:/(7,(5+:0A,
When cloud watching, our imagination can carve shapes out of thin air. We
recognize faces, animals and objects, even when they are just mere outlines,
JMKI][M\PMKTW]L[NWZU[PIXM[_MÅVLNIUQTQIZ<PM[IUM\PQVOPIXXMV[_PMV
we form a thicket of words into a description of shapes—we recognize through
ÅO]ZM[KWV\W]Z[[QTPW]M\\M[WZXZWÅTM[
Commonly used when writing about art, architecture, furniture and other
objects, description focused on shape begins with naming the shapes, as in “Silver
Lining,” our review on a Tina Bonoan exhibit:
In her recent jewelry exhibit called Wired, Tina Bonoan proved that silver is no
second-class citizen to gold. Each piece features a line of silver as motif, winding,
spiraling, creating small globes and imperfect squares. It is held in balance by
spheres and geometric shapes of horn, wood, or semi-precious stones. A tight
juxtaposition of movement and stillness, light and dark, each work pays homage
to the duality that swirls in perfect harmony.
The silver was formed into “small globes” and “imperfect squares,” shapes that
even when you have not yet seen the exhibit will already lead you to imagine
them. Then, comes the spheres and geometric shapes, this time made of different
materials.
When describing shapes in the architectural setting, make the shape move, as
in this example of a house designed by architect James Jao:
48 L E A P I N G O F F T H E PAG E
It’s the kind of house, though partly concealed by a foreboding black gate, that
makes you pause and stare. Amid the neighborhood of self-same galvanized roofs
and jalousie windows, it emerges, a white articulation of a curve and a slanting line
of glass, faultlessly modern in its composition as one examines it at high-noon.
But once you step inside the property, the house reveals its full glory: The curve is
actually a soaring roof and the glass slants further down, making it appear to be in
a conversation with a nearby family house and the lush garden surrounding it.
(CAD, “Love at First Site,” Area, 2008, p. 118).
The object is the roof of the house yet we don’t immediately see it since it’s
hidden behind the black gate. The roof becomes animated because it emerges
amid the uniform landscape in the neighborhood of galvanized roofs and jalousie
windows. The shape is of a white curve and slanting glass. As it changes vantage
point, we see the roof in its entirety, the curve becoming a synecdoche of the
roof. Again, the shapes move—they soar and slant and even “converse” with the
nearby house and gardens.
Like cloud watching, you can use similes on objects that bear such a strong
resemblance to another object, as in this description of two handmade chairs by
Filipino artist Benji Reyes in “Art Notebook.”
Reyes’ furniture has this virtuoso look in them: the rendition resembles classical
musical instruments. For example, the backrest of the “Rajah” (high back chair
made of tindalo and ipil) looks like thick, solid strings. The upper backrest of the
“Silya ni Flory” (dining chair) resembles half the body of a guitar.
We reference virtuoso and musical instruments to prepare the reader for the
description of the chairs’ shapes. One resembles solid strings, the other, half the
body of a guitar.
When it’s the size that you mean to emphasize, specify accurate numbers for
the length, width, height, or circumference. In this travel piece, we came upon a
chair in the province of Isabela. It was hailed as the biggest in the world, a fact
proven by its measurements:
Displayed along the Maharlika Highway in Ilagan is the world’s largest butaca (an
Ibanag term for a reclining chair), a common household furniture in Ilagan. The
chair measures 9.7 feet in width, 11.4 feet in height and 20.8 feet in length and is
made from hard narra and durable rattan. The Alinguigan Furniture Makers took all
of 29 days constructing it in March 2003.
(JBO, “An Isabela Notebook.” Daily Tribune, May 29, 2006, p. 12.)
L E A P I N G O F F T H E PAG E 49
Being displayed along a major thoroughfare and taking almost a month to
complete its construction further supports the claim that the butaca is a really big chair.
The size of the object can also be compared to another object of the same
dimension. In this example, travel writer Roel Manipon writes about the livelihood
of barrio Paradijon in Gubat, Sorsogon:
At the mouth of the Ariman River, they catch crab fries, the size and color of dog
ticks, to be sold to growers and fish pond owners.
Manipon could have easily said the crab fries measured 0.18 inches long, but
instead he gives us dog ticks, a more familiar image with the same tiny legs and
ÆI\JWLQM[)[TWVOI[\PMLQUMV[QWV[IZMI[KTW[M\WIK\]ITÅO]ZM[ZMVLMZ\PM[QbM
through another object.
For description that works, size (and shape) does matter.
,_LYJPZL!/V^IPNVYZTHSSPZP[&
/W\WINIZUMZ¼[WZ_MMSMVLUIZSM\8QKSÅ^MQ\MU[\PI\aW][MMIVLKWUXIZM\PMQZ
size to another object. Write one sentence for each item.
7,9:7,*;0=,:
From where we are, we don’t always look at things the same way. The scene
viewed on top of a high rise building will render people below as small as ants, the
pavement a carpet of concrete. Swoop down to ground level and it’s a sea of faces
etched with worry, determination, or calm. It’s the same when one is on the other
side of the fence. Our sense of sight will give us different perspectives even if we’re
looking at the same thing.
Perspective refers to “the appearance to the eye of objects in respect to their
relative distance and positions” (Merriam-Webster Dictionary). You cannot reliably
describe something close range when your actual vantage point is further away.
Further, it “gives us a way of thinking about something” (MacMillan Dictionary), the
other meaning of perspective.
Description with perspective can be used in conjunction with the narrative,
which will help you move a scene as if it’s being shot with a movie camera. It can
also be used in travel pieces, art reviews and architecture features. Determine which
distance and position is right for what you want to achieve in your description.
Our perception can be from a particular vantage point—in front or at the
back, above, at the center, underneath, to the left or right, near or far from the
object. In “A Book That Shines on Lighthouses,” the description of a lighthouse
makes us see movement from one vantage point to another.
50 L E A P I N G O F F T H E PAG E
A lighthouse readily conjures images at once romantic and fanciful…You begin to
thank the people who made them just so the ships could depart from and arrive at
the harbor safely. Up close, however, most lighthouses in the country show signs
of disrepair, if not outright ruin. The most recent one I saw was the Faro de Cabo
Bojeador in Ilocos Norte which, although still functioning, has seen better days and
been riddled with graffiti.
(CAD, “A Book That Shines on Lighthouses,” Daily Tribune, December 18,
2005, p. 12.)
)\ ÅZ[\ _M [MM \PM TQOP\PW][M NZWU INIZ <PMV \PM TMV[ [PQN\[ \PM \ZIV[Q\QWV Q[
ushered by the phrase “Up close, however”) and we see the real state of the
lighthouse. One will not be able to perceive the deterioration just from a distance.
So we get even closer, through a particular lighthouse in Ilocos Norte, and see it
¹ZQLLTML_Q\POZINÅ\Qº
Another example is a description of a church façade in the province of
Isabela, also taken from “An Isabela Notebook.” The phrase “a close scrutiny”
sets us into the same position as the writer herself.
A close scrutiny of the terracotta bricks that make up the St. Mathias church façade
reveals intricately molded designs like flowers, figures dressed in religious robes,
a wheel, and a curious-looking curvilinear form snaking its way up the sides of the
façade. They resemble the wooden molds used in stamping old-fashioned cookies
prior to baking. A cylindrical belfry stands on one side of the façade like a white,
multi-layered cake decorated with a simple scallop design encircling each layer.
The close-up reveals the intricate designs and, using the previous technique on
looking at shapes, lets the reader know the designs resemble wooden cookie
molds. The same thing is done to the attached belfry, it looks like a layer cake
with scallop icing on the sides.
To simulate movement, arrange the details as if you were panning from one
end to the other—outside looking in, or view from the outside going in, and vice
versa. Take a look back at our example of the James Jao-designed house:
Amid the neighborhood of self-same galvanized roofs and jalousie windows, it
emerges, a white articulation of a curve and a slanting line of glass, faultlessly
modern in its composition as one examines it at high-noon. But once you step
inside the property, the house reveals its full glory: The curve is actually a soaring
roof and the glass slants further down, making it appear to be in a conversation
with a nearby family house and the lush garden surrounding it.
L E A P I N G O F F T H E PAG E 51
Transitions like “but once you step inside the property” clues us into the movement
from outside to inside of the gate. We move from the perspective of an outsider
to someone who has been invited as a house guest.
Remember, how well you describe depends on from where you look at things.
,_LYJPZL!-P]L>H`ZVM3VVRPUN([;OPUNZ
Aside from the camera-like perspective, we can also look at things through:
t
t
Peripheral vision, things on the edges
Blind spot, what we fail to see
t
Night vision, nocturnal sightings
t
t
Child’s view, eye level or at least at the height, of a child
Hawk’s eye, seeing barely visible patterns on the ground
From our list above, pick one as your perspective in writing a scene or a description of your
backyard, bedroom or study room.
6UZLLPUN^P[O]LYIZHUKHKQLJ[P]LZ
To improve your visual description, be aware of verbs, nouns, and adjectives that
pertain to the sense of sight. Immerse yourself in them so you can draw from
them whenever you are stumped with the same old clichés.
5V\UZHZ=LYIZ
;VJVSVY
daub
dye
Æ][P
hue
infuse
paint
pigment
saturate
shade
spill
stain
tincture
tinge
tint
wash in
;VSPNO[LUVY
KHYRLU
blacken
bleach
burnish
cast
dim
eclipse
explode
ÆQKSMZ
ÆWWL
fog
glaze
glint
ignite
illumine
kindle
mist
murk
52 L E A P I N G O F F T H E PAG E
;VHJX\PYLKLZPNU
accent
checker
dapple
dot
embellish
ÆMKS
marble
mottle
smudge
speck
speckle
streak
striate
stripe
swirl
variegate
*VSVYHKQLJ[P]LZ
:[YVUNHUK
ZOPU`
ablaze
atomic
bold
brash
electric
ÅMZa
ÆWZM[KMV\
glittering
harsh
incandescent
intense
iridescent
kaleidoscopic
lambent
luminous
lustrous
radiant
satiny
saturated
showy
+PTHUK
KHYR
ashen
bleached
bleak
dark
deep
dim
dirty
discolored
drab
dull
dusty
faded
frosty
muddy
murky
smoky
sooty
stained
streaky
uneven
:VM[HUK
UL\[YHS
creamy
delicate
faint
lusterless
medium
mellow
natural
neutral
opalescent
opaque
pale
sheer
somber
soothing
subtle
translucent
transparent
wan
washed-out
waxen
*VSVYM\S
bi-color
blended
full-toned
hued
mixed
motley
multicolored
pastel
ruddy
shaded
solid
tinged
tinted
toned
two-tone
undiluted
uniform
7H[[LYUZ
accented
blotchy
checkered
classic
clean
contrasting
coordinating
dappled
dotted
ÆMKSML
marbled
mottled
patchwork
patterned
rustic
speckled
swirling
:,5:,6-;6<*/
The tactile sense requires a close proximity between us and the object. We touch,
hold, grip, massage, squeeze or scratch. Our skin and the nerves under it carry
what we’re feeling into the brain, which then registers and recognizes it. Our
ÅVOMZ[ NMMT [PIXM[ \M`\]ZM[ \MUXMZI\]ZM ?M NMMT \PM _MQOP\ IVL XZM[[]ZM WV
our shoulders. We ache, hurt or suffer in pain. We react to pleasure, comfort and
relief.
“Touch is the oldest sense, and the most urgent,” says Ackerman. Oldest
JMKI][MQ\¼[¹\PMÅZ[\[MV[M\WLM^MTWXQVIVMUJZaWº[Ia[+WVOMZ<PMUWUMV\
our touch receptors encounter a stimuli, the mind rapidly processes it so the
body could react immediately. We can even “hear” vibrations through the skin.
In connection to our kinetic sense, we feel motion and movement. When things
contract, release, burst, or tear, we feel them even through layers of muscle, tissue,
joints and bones. I can feel it in my bones, as we’re likely to say.
L E A P I N G O F F T H E PAG E 53