the pacquaio mystique

Was able to get to Quiapo in time for the final minute of the cable broadcast of the Pacquiao-Morales fight. It's amazing how the whole nation stops to watch Manny slug it out with every oppenent he meets. Call it the Paquiao Mystique. I'm baffled. Scary how he can even be the next president.

*Photos may appear too dark on your screen. I have not calibrated Nigel yet. Boohoo. Mental note to self: check Nigel's monitor calibration.

my week in bullets

- 4 days of brain racking (exciting) work writing project proposals in Laguna
- a nice friday evening with a bit of weirdness akin to two peppercorns lost in a in a mug of cold draft beer
- a very pathetic movie among pathetic horror movies. whoever is the cinematographer for the grudge 2 must be shot . wait, make that mauled AND THEN shot. goddemit, you don't include overhead microphones in the freakin' frame!
- setting 'let's get it on' on loop until i dozed off to la-la land
- a slow beatles-ey sunny moring taxi ride
- trip to the dentist and paying much more than i would have had i just looked for one in katipunan
- quiet lunch at bread talk, two hours at national cubao
- date with jack nicholson and snickering the afternoon out; realization that leo di caprio is actually hot in the movie and that i really like an angry man with a swagger.
- jap dinner with my brother kev
- taking home my badly needed new set of (read: 50% off) trainers, watching reruns of sex and the city, snooping around the net, thinking what i should be doing with my life...yet again.
- reminding myself i should be sleeping now because i'd have to get to payatas at 8 am tomorrow. okay, hafta sleep. now. zzz...

layers

layers

warm skin on granite
olive oil on pink, extra virgin.
you on the slopes,
dreams descend
on kitchen tabletops.

am i stalling?

am i stalling?

Went undertime today to attend a forum entitled

Resistance: the struggle for representation. Who portays whom?
with Shahidul Alam, PhD
Scientist, Photographer, Social Activist

The talk mainly focused on how images shape perspectives and opinions of the world we live in. Dr. Alam shared how images are used and sometimes manipulated by the hegemons of society to paint a picture that only serves their particular interests. He showed examples of his work in Bangladesh, where he is based, and other photographers' work around the world and the underlying forces for the publication of these. It got the audience, which composed mostly of photojournalists, students and photography hobbyists to question their approach to viewing, taking and publishing photographs. Who is represented and for what purpose? It was a stimulating discussion and I'm glad I attended it. I want to steepen my learning curve, as you know.

Seeking intellectual stimulation didn't end there for the night. Met with Toni for coffee. Talking to her is such a joy. Although there are differences with the way we think, we understand each other in so many levels it's so comforting.

Although prior to that, the ex, who picked up a book I borowed for him from the rizal lib, was talking about how I should not be climbing too many ladders at the same time and just stick to one, Toni (I love her) said that there is nothing wrong with lateral growth. It is a valid aspiration. I totally agree, at least at this stage. I'm still checking out lots of ladders for me to want to climb. I sometimes fear that I'm being jack of all trades master of none but as I said, I'm not rushing myself. It's all good.

That does not mean I should condone my own stalling. Maybe I should fill out the scholarship form for the konrad adenauer asian center for journalism diploma in photojournalism. It's kinda scary to launch into this. It might seal my life forever into this field. But if I don't do this, I'll stagnate. I'll die (metaphorically). It's like this: my fear of failing paralyzes me from doing something with my life, making me really, without a doubt, mediocre in the process. As toni pointed out, sometimes it's beter to fail than be mediocre because failing would mean having put so much effort into something but the stars or society, or whatever circumstance is just not with you at the moment. The real failure is not doing anything. True failure is being okay to not doing anything. I don't think I want that.

So, while laterally trying to grow, I will try to find my ladder, I guess.

I fold out now a piece of paper I've been keeping in my wallet since graduation. It's a handwritten essay on a notebook page I stole from one of the AtSCA ed files. Someone in the org who graduated four years ahead of me tucked it in one of the files. It reads:

"The great thing about life is that as long as we live, we have the privilege of growing. We can learn new skills, engage in new kinds of work, devote ourselves to new causes, make new friends, if only we will exercise a little initiative and refuse to become fixed, rigid...before our time.

Let us then learn how to accept ourselves--accept the truth taht we are capable in some direction and limited in others, that genius is rare, that mediocrity is the portion of almost all of us, but that all of us can contribute from the storehouse of our skills to the enrichment of our common life...

Let us accept our emotional frailties,knowing that every person has some phobia lurking within his mind and that the normal person is willing to accept life with its limitations and its opportunities joyfully and courageously.

Not only must we accept ourselves but we must aslo change ourselves. Until the day of our death we can change, we can tap hidden resources in our make-up. We can dsiscipline ourselves to turn from morbid circle of useless self-pity or enslavement to childish frustrations and begin to give of our energy to other people, to a cause, a movement, a great social enterprise. In such service we can find freedom from ourselves and liberty from our fears." -- Joshua Liebman

on a mike nichols roll

I can't believe i'm still on my Mike Nichols roll (he did "Heartburn"). Watched another of his movies Saturday night: "Closer" starring Julia Roberts, Jude Law, Natalie Portman and Clive Owen. As usual, the topics are the passions, attractions and deceptions of modern relationships. Although the movie did not show any nudity or any sex scene whatsoever, it was replete with lashing, biting and sometimes funny verbal intercourse. That the dialogues were heavy and the scenes flitted from one time period to another in no chronological order made for a jarring movie that sustained tension in the viewer. No climaxes there. Just prolonged agitation.

There's something about jumpy "catcher in the rye" kind of speech that gets me. I re-read the closer screnplay this morning. This is my favorite argument. There are lots that followed but that part contains too much obscene words for the good of my blog.

Anna's
ANNA: Why are you dressed?
LARRY: Because I think you might be about to leave me, and I didn't want to be wearing a dressing gown.
LARRY: I slept with someone in New York. A whore. I'm sorry.
ANNA: Why did you tell me?
LARRY: I couldn't lie to you.
ANNA: Why not?
LARRY: Because I love you.
ANNA: It's fine.
LARRY: Really? Why?
He's confused.
LARRY: Something's wrong. Tell me.
LARRY: Are you leaving me?
Anna nods.
LARRY: Because of this? Why?
ANNA: Dan.
LARRY: Cupid? He's our joke.
ANNA: I love him.
LARRY: You're seeing him now?
Anna nods.
LARRY: Since when?
ANNA: Since my opening last year.
Covering her mouth...
ANNA: I'm disgusting.
LARRY: You're phenomenal. You're so clever. Why did you marry me?
ANNA: I stopped seeing him. I wanted us to work.
LARRY: Why did you tell me you wanted children?
ANNA: Because I did.
LARRY: And now you want children with him?
ANNA: Yes... I don't know.
LARRY: But... we're happy. Aren't we.
She glares at him.
LARRY: You're going to go and live with him?
ANNA: You stay here if you want.
LARRY: Oh, look. I don't give a fuck about the spoils. You know, you did this to me the day we met. You let me hang myself for your amusement. Why didn't you just tell me the moment I walked through the door?
ANNA: I was scared.
LARRY: You're a coward, you spoiled bitch.
LARRY: Are you dressed 'cause you thought I might hit you?
LARRY: What do you think I am?
ANNA: I've been hit before.
LARRY: Not by me!
LARRY: Is he a good fuck?
ANNA: Don't do this.
LARRY: Just answer the question. Is he good?
ANNA: Yes.
LARRY: Better than me?
ANNA: Different.
LARRY: Better?
ANNA: Gentler.
LARRY: What does that mean?
ANNA: You know what it means.
LARRY: Tell me.
ANNA: No.
LARRY: I treat you like a whore.
ANNA: Sometimes.
LARRY: Why would that be?
ANNA: I'm sorry you're a...
LARRY: Don't say it. Don't you fucking say "You're too good for me." I am, but don't say it. You're making the mistake of your life. You're leaving me because you believe that you don't deserve happiness, but you do, Anna.
LARRY: Did you have a bath because you had sex with him? So you wouldn't smell of him. So you'd feel less guilty?
LARRY: How do you feel?
ANNA: Guilty.
LARRY: Did you ever love me?
ANNA: Yes.
He starts crying. She embraces him.

But this one contains the best one-liner in this movie, i think:

LARRY: You're a woman. She's a girl. She has the moronic beauty of youth, but she's sly.
ANNA: She seems open to me.
LARRY: Yeah, that's how she wants to seem. You forget you're dealing with a clinical observer of the human carnivore. (he's a doctor)
ANNA: Am I now?
LARRY: Oh, yes.
ANNA: Mmm. You seem more like the cat that got the cream. Stop licking yourself.

Next Mike Michols film to watch: Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? (1966), The Graduate (1967), Catch 22 (1970), Carnal Knowledge (1971) and maybe even Angels in America (2003).

four a.m. visitors

four a.m. visitors

I thought that staying home on a Friday night eating shawarma and watching two eighties flicks in a row would be quite relaxing and enjoyable. I was wrong on two accounts. First, although there were a lot of funny and witty lines in Breakfast club, absorbing teenage angst was draining. Second, although I really like Jack Nicholson, watching Heartburn depressed me. It made me think about how polygamous men really are and how I, for one, have come to accept that fact. However, I have not disregarded the fact that a marriage, or an exclusive relationship for that matter, beset by unfaithfulness takes away trust and respect shared by the couple and destroys the relationship. Things never go back to how they were before. I therefore reached a conclusion that someday I'm gonna have a shitty marriage, but what the hell, most people actually do.

My cousin Jenn said earlier this evening, over chocolate marjolaine, strawberry-chocolate mousse and coffee, that she finally has discovered how I grew up to be weird. I was telling her previously about my movie and book selections as a kid. Our house has no MTRCB. I ended up reading about lives of mentally ill people or watching avant-garde art films that scared and fascinated me as a kid. As time wore on I realize I gravitated toward films that depict the quirks of life that are only too real if you begin to observe people carefully. Stories about illicit love affairs and broken marriages, psychological retardation providing the twist, sadism and masochism translated into physical pain, bigotry, homosexuality, ugliness as beauty, provided the themes of the literature I devoured.

And yet, as I told Jenn, I am normal. I'm not weird. I still manage to have a very optimistic view of life. I do admit to these truths. They are written because they exist. In my mind, I am aware of their pervasiveness. I know that I am affected by these conditions, among others. Somehow I know that these paralyze me to some extent. But I live my life as normally as most people (who certainly will go through shitty marriages) do.

floating on a tidal wave

I'm a whirldwind of activities. I just can't stop. Doing doing doing. I'm addicted to exploring every kind of learning opportunity. Gahaman ako sa experience. And yet, it seems like kulang pa lahat. There's so little time to learn to do things. For example, I wanna learn more about the camera, about digital photo post-processing, about the technicalities and the art of photography. I wanna shooot shoot shoot and apply all I read about. Pero kulang ang bente cuatro oras.

Sometimes I shake myself up and remind myself not to spread my energies too thinly. Sometime, by just doing doing doing (work which take up 50% of my time, friendly encounters, photography, reading some good literature, household chores, family errands, writing, scouting for good music), I forget to take a deep breath and just think. It seems like I'm everywhere but nowhere at the same time. The funny thing is that this state called nowhere feels like home to me. That can be dangerous in a very dictatorial society but that can be quite all right if I assume a to-hell-with-all-your-shit mentality.

Am I ready to face the consequences of that thinking?

No updating for the past 3 months. Haaaaah. I've been quite busy.

July 9, 16, 23,30 FPPF Photog workshop

Symposium on Population and Development
July 29 Naga
August 12 Calamba
August 26 Tuguegarao
September 9 Vigan
September 23 Cabanatuan
October 14 Calapan
October 28 Baguio
November 11 Manila
November 25 QC

Trips were hectic but fun. Was able to do some shoots in Ilocos. Thank God! I think that in my past life, I was really from here. There's as sense of affinity I feel with the place. Must be because I speak Ilocano too and because my grandparents were from Vigan. I find myself at ease in Ilocos. I loved walking around alone, hearing Ilocano masses and grabbing yummy street foods as I went along. Too bad there was no time to go to Pagudpud or to visit the windmills in Bangui Bay. Those should make pretty interesting photographic subjects especially at sun-down. But then again, perhaps that warrants another trip. I hope next time I;ll be with rockin' friends and we'd be lolling around the beach developing gorgeous tanlines. Hah! Can't wait for that!



Click here for more More Ilocos Pics.

miracle drug

Listening to U2 while shoveling academic snow for an extra living helps me muster the thought of this prostitution. I think of my miracle drug in between marrying words; that lends beauty to an otherwise ordinary exercise.

I want to trip inside your head
Spend the day there...
To hear the things you haven't said
And see what you might see

I want to hear you when you call
Do you feel anything at all?
I want to see your thoughts take shape
And walk right out

Freedom has a scent
Like the top of a new born baby's head

The songs are in your eyes
I see them when you smile
I've seen enough I'm not giving up
On a miracle drug

Of science and the human heart
There is no limit
There is no failure here sweetheart
Just when you quit...

I am you and you are mine
Love makes no sense of space
And time...will disappear
Love and logic keep us clear
Reason is on our side, love...

The songs are in your eyes
I see them when you smile
I've had enough of romantic love
I'd give it up, yeah, I'd give it up
For a miracle, miracle drug

God I need your help tonight

Beneath the noise
Below the din
I hear your voice
It's whispering
In science and in medicine
"I was a stranger
You took me in"

Miracle, miracle drug

- Miracle Drug, U2

here, now

here, now

Sinatra songs, just like eating chocolate, make me sigh. And what apt weather to listen to smooth serenading and nostalgic lyrics than a rainy day. There's a kind of lull in the office today. Fina and Balbie have quit ICSI and it's gonna be a lot quiet here for a couple of months or more until the replacements will come. Even Anne has to go back to Amrica next month. Tanya, Ronna and I will be left with three empty desks. Balbie's stuff are still here because he still will be reporting for CAFIS but it's different when he's not around everyday (for us to make fun of? hehe). Kinda makes me think of my own career path. The quiet puts the question mark right in front of me again.

My transfering to a new apartment was a big step for me. This is the farthest I've gone in terms of planting roots. I have been in so many homes throughout my lifetime. I don't buy a lot of stuff, making sure that I only have the essentials so that it is easy to move around. Now, I've invested in double deck beds and kitchen appliances and utensils among other knick knacks. I like my new home but it's also a lot of work to make sure it is maintained well and supplies don't run out. Weekends are spent cleaning up or going on errands. I'm a bit apprehensive and scared that I'm getting attached to this lifestyle. In the future, I might think twice or thrice about transfering to a new job or applying for an MA abroad. Today is kind of more stable but more limiting. Funny thing is that I don't know if this is what I really want right now. I'm still trying to get used to it. And I'm enjoying the moment--something, unlike planning my future, I'm all too capable of doing.

I know the topic might bore some people but hey, it's another pdi piece with my by-line. Curious? (Click here)

Okay, nobody from the Inquirer emailed me. I was shocked when while waiting for our 7 a.m. ferry to Mindoro, Tristan grunted and pointed THIS out to me. Yayks. It is only now that I realize I shared something personal to the whole country. (Cringe!)

P.S. The Puerto Galera getaway was relaxing. There wasn't much activity as I had imagined but it was great to hang around the beach for two days. Thanks to the birthday girl, Elaine (mwah mwah). Now my only problem is that I am scorrrrched! I forgot to flip over while suntanning. How stupid is that! Haha.

Check out the mow-del pics.

I haven't gotten sick in a long time. So people shouldn't have been shocked when last Friday and Saturday, I was pissed because I had fever and diarrhea. Good thing there was no NFP session at Payatas to monitor. But man, to go back and forth to the loo around three times during the night can eat away energy fast. I wasn't able to eat because when I did, I just had to puke. I asked Majen who was going to Riverbanks to buy me some Gatorade. Only after then was I able to force some food into my system. I slept the whole day Saturday just so that I could go out in the evening, as promised, with lai and lani. We had to watch Balbie's band Lunchbox in their first gig at Blue Fin Katipunan (near Shell Select). They've been playing at Shade Bar previously. They'll be Saturday regulars at Blue Fin so check them out sometime.

Met Raf and some COA'04 assimilates like myself at Blue Fin and all of us had a swell time just talking on and on. Er... at least Lani, Lai and I did. I noticed, the three of us were the rowdiest, even more than the guys at the table who didn't drink much. It was so much fun talking about childhood games and bloopers, and how we were all disciplined as kids. Being the "small people" that we were, we talked about other people as well. We talked about school femme to femme sex scandals which made even the holiest of holies bite his lower lip. It was fun, one of the funnest nights-out with pseudo-strangers in a while.

Balbie and the band even played "Mr. Brightside" which I was only about to request then. They played it in the finale too, and they even played it better the second time around. If I were only drunk I think i would have screamed out loud and sang along. The song was a fitting way to end the night. Coz...

I just can't look
It's killing me!
And taking control!

Jealousy
Turning saints into the sea!
Turning through sick lullaby!
Joking on your alibi!
But it's just the price! I pay!
Destiny is calling me
Open up my ea..ger eyes...
I'm Ms. Brightside!
(emphasis added)

I am, all right.

Got the song stuck to my head (coming out of my cage...) right now. Still. It's actually not a very good song (and I've doing just fine...) if you thought about it (gotta gotta be down becasue I wanted it all). But it has this sing-able melody to it (tt started out as a kiss how could it end up like this). And it's a song you can hurl out your guts with (it was only a kiss, it was only a kiss!!!). Something you can really really headbang with, but only if you were durnk and could relate. Click here. I wanna share the LSS. Hehe. Tsk Tsk. Laro na nga lang tayo:

1. The tagged person has to come up with 8 different descriptions of their perfect lover.
2. He/she needs to mention the sex/gender of their perfect lover.
3. He/she must tag 8 more people to join this game and leave a comment on their comments saying they've been tagged.

I haven't done this, ever. List down things I'd want in a lover, that is. I think it's time I did. Perfect daw di ba? hmmm... Oh, and for the record, I like men.

1. Has a zest for life: Masarap kumain, Masarap tumawa. Hindi sinusubukang patayin ang sarili.
2. Smart: as in street smart. Tipong nagcocommute at alam kung paano umiikot ang mundo.
3. Caring and Unselfish: Someone who goes out of his way to cater to you.
4. Confident and Powerful: Marunong makipag-usap sa tao. Ayoko ng pakiyeme-kiyeme. Has a way of drawing out the truth in people but not in an outwardly demanding and usurping manner. Is aware of his limitations and insecurities but is okay with them. Makes do with what he has and is able to make person X do what he wants person X to do with person X being okay with it. (Shet. Polsci, kasumpa-sumpa ka)
5. Encouraging; Brings out the best in me and all the people around him.
6. Passionate: May mga katangi-tanging hilig, may pinu-pursue na kaalaman sa kahit na anong hilig. Musika, sana para astig.
7. Pero easy-going: Hindi dapat takot na bastusin ako (and i don't mean sexual pambabastos). Please naman, tama na ang mala-nanay na respeto. Ahehe. Someone who doesn't keep me at arm's length. Someone who has a calming presence. para hindi na ako lagi feeling gusto magyosi.
8. Kung hihirit sa looks: Mapanga, muscular pero lean, long-hair o kalbong may goatee.

Shet, mukha ngang tall order ito. Asa pa ako.

***
Okay, better snap out of this Mr. Brightside LSS. But then again, this is better than hearing Manny P's "Para Sa Iyo" over and over again in your head. Wehe! I have this as my morning alarm by the way. Something for daily inspiration. "Hindi ako susuko... Isisigaw ko sa mundo. Para sa iyo, ang laban na to..." Ulol. Hahaha.

Unlike most people, I like hospitals. There is a certain kind of rush when I see doctors in their immaculate white jackets, whisking past each other. Doctors. clean-looking intellectuals. People with able minds and able hands. I have this inexplainable fixation with doctors. I think that the only thing that prevented me from being one myself is that when I was younger, I didn't want to jump into the bandwagon by asnwering "doctor" to the what-do-you-want-to-be-when-you-grow-up Little Miss Philippines question. I wanted to be cooler than that. So I said I wanted to be a writer, a journalist, a film director, or a volcanologist like them long-haired bespectacled geeks in X-files. But still, that fascination with life-saving medical practitioners hasn't wavered. I kidded my parents whom I was accompanying to be checked up at USTH that I should hang out at hospitals more often. Who knows? Maybe I'll be able to meet a young, ravishing, good doctor someday to marry.

Of course, I was only joking. That was to get the tension off from everybody. My dad has a lump in his left breast. And it might be CA. Of course we're hoping for the best but I'm bracing myself for the worst. That would have to mean I'll have to grow up fast. Operation will be scheduled on February and from then on, mine and my family's life can drastically change. Taking two weeks off to take care of dad as he will be restricted to travel until after fifteen days shows the only tip of the iceberg. So far, though, I'm taking things practically. I'm even writing this down so I'll not be scared of it. It's harder, I think, if I keep these all in. This is the way I am, I guess, always the pragmatist. Although I'd prefer to be softer as the need arises, when people need me to be weak than strong. When people need more comfort than the logistics being well taken care of. When people need kind words than a run-down of what needs to be done, a hug more than fidgeting over things and physically putting things in order.

I am sooooo badly in need of your prayers.

"Being alone: there's a certain dignity to it." -- Janet Livermore (Singles, 1992)

Last night was great. The moon was full and had an ominous look to it. Rising slightly above bald tree branches, it looked like a cat's eye which alluded to evil forebodings. Yet, i found comfort in its yellow sleepy glow. I kept a steady pace, my breath exhaling thoughts even I couldn't comprehend. I stopped only to stretch my legs or when my cellphone radio's music supply didn't fit the upbeat thumping of my trainers against the hot asphalt road. Then I just walked and tried to stride past my insecurities.

To be dripping wet, you feel a sense of being cleansed. It's physical catharsis. And when all energy are spent, thoughts go with them. It's mental purging as well. And when finally cool water courses through your bloodstream, that's where the real work begins. One by one, information gets sorted and tucked into labelled drawers inside your brain. Instant defragmentation. It only takes about an hour.