Art

Book backlog

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I’ve always loved books.  I remember back when I was a kid; I first fell in love with Archie comics.  I’ve always wanted to be Betty because she’s always so considerate and sweet and giving.  But of course, in the end, I ended up being more like Veronica.  Minus the rich part.  Hahaha.

Anyway, I kind of am reminded that I have a book backlog when I got home from work today and saw a pile of books I was supposed to read.  Before MAP started, I joined this community online whose goal is to finish 50 books in a year.  I managed to complete that list, and shared quite a handful of reviews, but because I decided to become more serious in planning for my future (or at least having a plan), I only got to complete 50 books for a year.  BUMMER.

And this is my stinking pile.

Got this about a couple of months ago. I think.

I got this with the other one and the next one. Bought it from the National Bookstore big ol’ sale.

Of course, I had to buy a classic. :)

Bought this when I was with Dylan, just last week.

The only book I managed to start reading

At some point, it did become depressing.  I really love reading.  I actually see JK Rowling as a heroine because she made kids fall in love with reading again.  I am so thankful for books because they fueled my imagination.  And I would hate to neglect my first teachers, but I already am.

Contrary to the saying, I really do judge a book by its cover.  I want the cover to age with me:  gracefully.  I want a cover that will actually look like it’s been touched and felt by time.  A cover that remains uncovered, so that as the book is borrowed and passed on from one reader to another, their hands leave an imprint on the cover.  And the book would know it’s been read.

Most people find that weird, and most people disagree with my “care” (or lack of).  Most people would cover them with plastic and preserve the crispness of the pages.  Not me.  I imagine myself being 60 and my floor-to-ceiling, wall-to-wall bookshelves filled with books with yellowed pages.  Hmmm.  Perfect.

I FFFFound Love.

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I’ve always known I’ll always be in love.  I guess that’s the reason why I love seeing love.  And collecting them.  And making them appear mine.  Even if I already have my own.  :)

I have a date with my someone tomorrow evening.  He’s a really good kisser.  :)

Shoes, lace, skirt, frills

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Being stuck in a corporate world, it’s almost easy to lose your creativity.  The constant conformity to the rules and regulations — and even code of ethics and conduct — will eventually trim the rough edges, the same edges that are often the source of paint, color and frivolity.  It is  a struggle to keep that alive, especially if the paint and the color and the frivolity are what you have been doing for most of your life.

Which is why I’ve been working really hard in getting into photography classes.  I love photography.  A picture paints a thousand words and that sweet Bread song were said and sung for a reason:  it’s the truth.  You don’t need words or actions or a singsong voice to translate the romance, the joy, the heartache and the agony.  All you need are your eyes.

Your eyes see everything.  The windows to the soul, they say.  And in a way, that’s what I want to do.  To give you a good view.  A good enough view that will move the windows.

I just want to get there…

There was something artsy and fartsy in that small room

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After the Cinemalaya masturbation (or rather before that), I went in their gift shoppe.  I don’t remember the last time I actually bought a souvenir for an event or a place I’ve attended or been to.  So I went ahead and bought three pins.  I just don’t know where I am supposed to use them because right after purchasing them, I remembered that my company stifles creativity when it comes to office attire and decorum.  We’re not even entitled to casual Fridays yet, coz we’re still trainees.  Either way, I’m happy I got them.

I guess I wanted to make sure I still have my creativity in my hands.  Or at least it is still reflected in my choices.  Sometimes, it feels like all I’ve been making are bad choices.  It’s good to know that sometimes, I make good ones.

I got sad.  For a while, I got really sad.  Because I realized that I am very upset and disappointed.  I realized how upset I was, I realized how angry I was.  It happened when I was sitting on the train to Cubao, with half my things in tow, preparing for a meeting that wouldn’t happen.  It happened when I realized I would rather commute all the way to Quezon City than see your face.

I would rather endure discomfort than be reminded that you, the person I have cared for more than I cared for myself my entire life, refuse to see how you have hurt me.  And how you have left me when I actually needed you.  And how you made it seem about your God forsaken situation.  And how you chose to not apologize.  And how you can just go on without apologizing.

It disappoints me because I thought we were more than that.  It disappoints me because I’m the only one who can see where I stand.  I am forced to understand you because they think kulang ka, they think you’re the one who needs more understanding.  I, who have held you on high esteem, who have defended your critical thinking, am the one left biting the dust that should not have been there in the first place.

Too bad, so sad.  Moving on now.  If you’re doing it, then I’m doing it too.  No need to go back to something that used to exist.  There is a reason why it doesn’t exist anymore.  Oh well.

That’s all. Kthxbye.

It was May in July

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Jerome invited me and Anj for some cultural bathing at the 6th Cinemalaya Independent Film Festival in Cultural Center of the Philippines.  I remember the first time I went there and digested my first load of indie films.  It was quite exhilarating to see everything five years after.  It was almost like a commencement of sorts.  Like coming to full circle.

And of course, I met the two people who ignited my love for films, Johnathan Rondina (whom I ran into at Mocha Blends by Harbor Square) and our thesis adviser, Flordeliz Abanto, who is know the president of PACE (Philippine Association of Communication Educators).  We had quite a chat and she was exactly the same, the  passionate teacher who knows the arts can change the way you see the world.  It was great to feel the passion I know I’ve lost.

Aldrich was able to join in.  We miss the Chinaman what can we say.  Adah, having nothing to do, tagged along too.  It was quite a spontaneous afternoon.  We were dejected though when we didn’t get to see the short films Jerome wanted to see.  But we did get to see Mayohan by Dan Villegas, screenplay by Paul Sta. Ana.

Mayohan is led by Lovi Poe and Elijah Castillo and the setting is Infanta, Quezon.  Lilibeth (Poe) is a 19-year-old lass of the province, coordinating the May-End Dance.  Niño (Castillo) is a 15-year-old binatilyo from Cubao, coming for a visit to his grandmother with his aunt.  Amidst the festivities, he becomes the focal point of the town’s Dance.

The film was a good tickler.  It had the right mix of comedy and melancholy love affair that happens only to teenagers and only during  summer.  Even the rain had a sweet, loving touch to the film.  It  reminded me of Red Shoes, with the sincerity of the boy’s admiration exhibited silently and loudly at the same time till the very last minute.

Poe’s acting is what surprised me the most.  It’s not that it was compelling and moving; it was the fact that it was just right.  She played the lovely lady in the barrio who didn’t really know or care that she’s the prettiest of them all.  She was strong and delicate at the same time, which is why Castillo’s charming young gentleman demeanor always felt the need to protect her and look after her.  And Ping Medina?!  Let’s just say he coined the next best catch phrase after Joey Tribiani’s “How you doin’?”  So, “hel-lo.” :)

The last I’ve heard of Infanta was when it was struck by tragedy.  The cinematography managed to capture the beauty of that deluge.  The lush greens, the refreshing water… even the brown murky sand seemed to play a vital role in courting Lilibeth.  It was almost like the entire production staff coordinated the entire locality to look ordinary and verbose all at the same time.

For the first time in 11 months, I didn’t like the fact that I lived in Quezon City.  The festival will run till July 18, and I really want to watch the gala nights for the other films.  I guess a part of me want to see if the people we interviewed five years ago are still the same people inspiring the newest breed of writers and directors to change the Philippine film industry standard.

And of course, to see if I made a big enough impact to their lives (like they did in mine) and they remember me too.

For a complete schedule of the festivities, click here.

Photo credits:
Mayohan Facebook  page