Saturday, April 19, 2014

White out


The most important lesson that reading good literature and writing my own poetry have taught me is to not to lazily rely on quotes or passages for regurgitated wisdom, which only causes indigestion.


I still “write things out” for myself – meaning, as in mathematics, I do not memorize proofs to theorems but understand first (or at the very least try to) underlying “truths” (for there is nothing as brutally honest as an equation). Only then can I trudge on – elegance be damned!


Of course, this has confounded my math, statistics, and even operations research instructors. Not to mention my by-the-book classmates.


Why make your life harder? (Tell that to the philosophers.)


I will not even try to explain my lifelong battle against cliché.


Even the best art has the capacity to degenerate into something banal.


I try my best to hang on to what is material, which is the material. Or to materials.


T-shirt, cK by Calvin Klein
Jeans, Bench
Sneakers, Converse, thrifted
Belt, Structure, thrifted


Bag, Eighty and Ninety, thrifted


Today is Black Saturday, that precarious moment in the history of Christianity when the dead remain dead and have nothing to look forward to.


In the absence of salvation, faith is worthless.


But on the other hand, constant anticipation gives leeway to distraction and unfaithfulness.


I have learned not to trust those who do not trust silence.


Those who do not seek clarity and consistency (one of the reasons I value good grammar).


Yes, we are all weak, but it is cowardly to always rely on excuses.


Ah, conviction! Isn’t it more potent than faith that offers no supporting arguments?


Not that I do not believe in things that have no proof. Even doubting Thomas held on to hope.

Friday, April 18, 2014

Maundy throwback / Black flashback


I wonder if those who coined the social networking terms “throwback Thursday” and “flashback Friday” ever anticipated any resonance with the Catholic world’s remembrance of the Last Supper and JC’s death on the cross. (Not that every liturgy and sacrament, and even the mysteries of the rosary, are not already constant recollections of past events.)

Reversible t-shirt, cK by Calvin Klein
Beanie, 5cm


In any case, religious or not, one cannot subscribe to the Delphic maxim “know thyself” without looking back. Not for a lack of courage to move on or for fear of turning to salt.

Polo shirt, Piazza Italia
Jeans, Maison Martin Margiela
Belt, Nautica
Sandals, Kickers, thrifted
Briefcase, Bally
Dirae necklace, Bosquejo


Though if you’d ask me, in these days of disease and infection, pei pa koa and alcohol would be more useful in my bag (even if one cannot emphasize enough the virtues of rock salt – in your food or your ice cream).


Golden are these days of silence and reflection. I would give it to kids who have just learned how useful the word No is. For adults, it would be Stop.

Wednesday, April 16, 2014

Religionless raglan


Pardon the paunch, but these pictures were taken in a rush: in between taking a shower and hauling things for a hospital vigil. Hence I forgot to pull in my tummy (not breathe), haha.


And no, I know what you’re thinking: the white spot near my clavicle is not any sticky excretion or manna from heaven (read: bird droppings). It’s toothpaste.


Looking at it, I now realize one of the walls of our backyard could have been used for target practice.


If only my metabolism could be as precise in achieving my ideal body shape. I know, I know. I don’t go to the gym enough and I eat too much McDonald’s. But that’s another story.


Not that I obsess about body shape (good health would be more ideal). Right now, taking care of my patient is more important.


Raglan tee, Uniqlo
Fisherman’s pants from Aldevinco, Davao
Sandals, Birkenstock


So I hope you pardon both my paunch and my state of disarray.


As with our backyard, things are still covered in rubble, dust, and ashes.


Not to mention, stray paint markings.


We are all after all, an Easter people. Regardless of religion.

Tuesday, April 15, 2014

Uphill climb


These pictures were taken last Saturday on a road trip to Tagaytay with the boyfie and his old (my new) friends.


The trip was planned on the side of a business meeting. Though it was cancelled last-minute and the weather initially didn’t seem to cooperate, we still decided to push through.


Needless to say, we didn’t regret that we did.


Besides taking in scenic trails, we were able to breathe the fresh air that only surfaces once one leaves the city.


Beyond walls and restrictions, skies expand wider and further than any skyline could.


I was convinced in the power of travel to deepen friendships.


Though we knew the trip was short and the experience temporary, we were reminded of our own dreams and wishes. (The property development we toured has a perpetual Christmas theme.)


The afternoon brought to light what we held as definite horizons.


Henley, Zara
Shorts care of the boyfie
Sneakers, Converse, thrifted
Belt from an Italian market


Who would have thought that we once again glimpsed what we considered dormant?


Sure, most of the trip was sugar-coated.


And we came “back to reality” once we returned to Manila.


But as I have always said, dreams and fantasies – once settled into habits – are not less valid.


If for anything, travel and recollection only make them more real.

My cameos taken by Barbie Aguas
See Draft of Shadows: Taal view, Tagaytay for larger images of scenic landscapes

Sunday, April 13, 2014

The vest is yet to come


This post was a bit delayed in its delivery because after taking these pictures of what I wore last Friday, my camera battery died and I had left my charger in Davao a few weeks ago.


Good thing that the charger arrived before Friday night - just in time for a little Tagaytay adventure with the boyfie and his friends on Saturday (my new friends as well).


It’s been a while since I went on a road trip. Can’t imagine we did that many things in a day: ate at Leslie’s by the Taal lake, went to view model units of a Swiss-inspired development down pine-strewn hills, had merienda with tin soldiers and Santa’s little helpers, dinner at a tea house, and cake right before a sweat-inducing massage session. 


Took tons of pictures, of course. Listened to music. For one companion, wrote over memories that were left hanging (literally and figuratively) in the past.


Though one other companion was just an infant and wouldn’t remember the road trip as vividly and as clearly as the rest of us, I’m sure she would be at the center of future stories remembered, told, and retold in her growing up years. 
Life goes on – many a great and wise poet have remarked. And for those with more years to look forward to, we should add: the best is yet to come.