"Associative Looseness"

The dream gallery is finally open!

Galerie Anna, found at the 7th Floor of the Ramon Magsaysay Center along Roxas Boulevard, offers a new space for artists to display their enormous talent and for art collectors and spectators as well.

The gallery opened with an exhibition of the private collection entitled “Intimate Space”. The idea, according to Gallery Manager Joffrey Baylon, is to create a setting in which individuals can fully express their love for the art, in a more intimate fashion. As part of his opening speech, Mr. Baylon compared art to love; “Given a chance to pick between being loved and respected, which one would you take?” He further explained the gallery’s objective when he answered, “Would it be too much to have both? In Galerie Anna, we provide both respect and love, for the artists and for the audience.” In this sense, Mr. Baylon referred to respect as freedom of expression. No rule bounds an artist when it comes to their art. Anything goes, but with a distinctive taste of aesthetic class.

The first offering of the gallery showcases a private collection of Filipino artists. Such as Edsel Moscoso who showed off his recognizable style of using orbs to highlight the divinity of simple folks depicted in his paintings. Marcel Antonio, known for his ambiguous themes that encompass reality and myth all rolled into a mystical visual narrative. Romulo Galicano, the premiere portrait artist with his intriguing work entitled “Harana”, in which one could point out the likeness in features of Galicano’s model and that of TV-host-actress Kris Aquino. And leading multitalented artist J. Elizalde Navarro, who showed his inclination for flowing and violent colors with his untitled abstract painting.

Also part of the first exhibit are works of internationally acclaimed Vietnamese artists like Nguyen Tan Cuong, known for his borderline figurative and abstract style of painting. His eloquent combination of colors create a subtle environment to best view the formed object, which at this exhibition, is a face of a person, aptly entitled “Portrait”. Nguyen Minh Son’s short and quick brushstroke on “The Church” puts together a bright idyllic landscape that perfectly captured a few moments after sunrise. His use of bright colors and picturesque scenes automatically suggest a joyful and delightful mood that leaves his audience feeling cheerful.

Included in the show are two paintings by Bui Van Hoan, whose impressionistic style skillfully features Asian tradition and landscapes. The whole tone of “Monks” and “Forest by the River” shows a progression of one color expertly fused with light to create various hues. As opposed to Hoan’s style, Ha Huynh My’s paintings show her enthrallment with two notable themes – flowers and women, especially lotus. My explored in her paintings the symbolic connection between these two subjects, as well as their own wholeness. The innocence and simple beauty associated with each theme are carefully expressed by her use of faint hues of white and green, the figures nearly indiscernible as it blends with the background. This style brings out a sense of balance and peace that represents femininity at its purest, effortlessly. My’s paintings are entitled “On the way to School”, “Market on New Year”, “Country Road” and “Lotus Season”. Do Xuan Doan and Le Ngoc Tuong, both popular artists in Vietnam display their classic style in landscape and still life, respectively. Doan’s dedication to nature brought about an impressionistic creation of everything that is beautiful. Doan sees the beauty of everything and he cautiously transfers his vision into a colorful painting. “Country Road” is a perfect example of Doan’s passion for everything that is beautiful and vibrant. Le Ngoc Tuong on the other hand, plays with light and shadows in his detailed still life. The expert use of shadowing technique gives off a three-dimensional impression and an illusion of movement to these inanimate objects. The smoothness of brush strokes and high-precision detailing makes Tuong’s “Still Life” a must-have for collectors.

Bui Huu Hung’s “Royal Lady”, a lacquer on wood masterpiece, evokes a feeling of traveling through time and seeing the vividness of the past. Master of the Vietnamese art of Lacquer on wood paintings, Hung has carved a niche for himself in the Vietnamese art scene, and the world. “Royal Lady” exudes the monarchial status of the woman, which is clearly what Hung intended the viewers to see. The texture of his colors skillfully laid layer after layer presents a softness that ignites something nostalgic within the viewers.

Last but not the least, Galerie Anna also features an anthology of Byzantine hagiography or study of saints, by Constantinos Georgopoulos. Georgopoulos completed his compilation using egg tempera and gold leaf as his medium and wood as his base, to create a renaissance-like atmosphere. This also projects a sense of antiquity to the paintings. On first sight, one would think these paintings were centuries old, but, that is where the technique lies, it is not. As for his theme, Georgopoulos combined Asian, specifically Chinese beliefs with Catholicism by painting Angel Michael killing a serpent-like dragon instead of a human resembling Lucifer in his “Angel Michael”. His titles are the following, “Christ I”, “Virgen Hodigitria”, “The Dormition”, “Christ 2”, “Angel Gabriel and Michael”, and “Angel Gabriel”.

The diverse collection of Galerie Anna proved its versatility and steadfast support for artists and for the arts. It will remain a place for intimate communion with the arts; a close encounter with what the world has to offer; truly an event to experience.

“Intimate Space” at Galerie Anna will run until June 27, 2008. For more information or reservation please call (02) 5273131 loc 119 and look for Joffrey or e-mail any inquiries to galerieanna@yahoo.com.

There was once a quarter-moon called Luna. She was still a child and eager to go out to the skies and watch the earth below. She was allowed to shine on some nights and was eager to see more. She has seen the fields with trees, children playing in their backyard, and little boats with their shiny lights on finding their way in the big pool of water they call the sea.
One night, she overheard some moons talking about the color of the trees and flowers. Trey, a half-moon said the trees are gray and the flowers are black. Luna smiled and thought that's correct. However, Hector who is also a half-moon disagreed with Trey. Hector said the trees are green and the flowers are red. The other moons as well as Luna were shocked by what Hector said. Then, a barrage of questions, all aimed at Hector grew louder and louder that Luna unable to hear Hector's replies went home frustrated with her own questions.
Luna found her mother Full moon Fiona in the kitchen, cooking their meal. Fiona noticed Luna looking at her and knowingly asked, “Is there something you want to ask me, Luna?”
Luna was jilted and shyly said, “How did you know I want to ask something, Mother?”
“Because you are my child and I know you.”
Luna smiled and inched her way closer to Fiona.
“Mom, what is the color of the trees and flowers?”
Fiona was surprised by the question, “You have a very interesting question. May I know why you are asking me this?”
Luna relayed the events with Trey and Hector while Fiona listened attentively. When Luna was done, Fiona asked her, “Who do you believe is telling the truth?”
Luna, bewildered by her mother's question truthfully answered, “It's Trey of course. Because I have seen the trees and flowers and they are gray and black. Everything on earth is either gray or black. I don't even know what color is green and red.”
Then Luna looked up to Fiona and said, “Do you know the color of green, Mother?”
Fiona was amused by Luna's questions let out a small laugh. “Of course I know the color green.” Then she became serious and said, “Listen Luna, both Trey and Hector are correct. The color of the tree is green and to us it appears gray, and the color of the flower is red but to us it appears black.”
“But how come there are two colors?” Luna asked.
“Because of the kind of light we shine on them, Luna. We only shine at night when it's dark, so most of the colors we see are either gray or black.”
“How do you know it's really green or red then, when you only come out at night, Mom?”
“Because there was a time I saw them during the day, when Mr. Sun was shining and everything was bright.”
Luna was amazed by what Fiona told her, and excitedly asked if she could also come out during the day and see the colors of the trees and flowers. But Fiona told her otherwise.
“Why can't I go out during the day? When Mr. Sun is bright and I could play?” Luna insistently asked.
Fiona gently reminded her, “Dear, our light is not as bright as Mr. Sun's. I'm afraid you'll lose your light if you come out.”
The bewildered Luna further asked, “What do you mean, Mom? We are the only source of light during the night! So we must have stronger light than Mr. Sun!”
With an exasperated groan Luna slumped on her chair and blurted, “Mr. Sun was never there when it's dark. I just want to see the color green and red.”
Fiona, astounded by her daughter's observation, patted Luna's shoulder and lifted her chin. “My dear child, you are wise beyond your years. But that's just the way it is. We come out at night when Mr. Sun is sleeping so we could keep our lights.”
Disappointed, Luna said, “Then I refuse to shine anymore at night.”
Fiona restrained her laughter and lovingly looked at Luna, “When it is dark and people need light, we are there for them. When Mr. Sun is resting we help the people find their way at night. You see Luna, people need us more at night than during the day. When Mr. Sun's light is waning and darkness befalls the earth, we shine. Unlike during the day, when Mr. Sun is awake and is shining brightly, people can not see us shining for them. So it's useless if we shine during the day. And if we lose our light, who will shine on the people at night? No one. Do you understand?”
Luna was nodding and slowly her spirits are coming back. She stood up from her chair and started to walk away when she remembered she has another question.
“Mother, you said once you saw the trees and flowers during the day and you did not lose your light, when will I be able to see them too?”
“Just open your eyes and you will see”, was Fiona's answer.

That night, it was Luna's turn to shine and she tried to make her light brighter so she could see the trees turn green and the flowers turn red. Morning came and still unblinking she was still trying to see what color is green. Mr. Sun, who was now up from his sleep saw Luna and was amused. He asked her, “What are you watching, Luna?”
Luna did not look at Mr. Sun but answered, “I'm waiting to see the trees turn green and the flowers turn red.”
Mr. Sun smiled to himself and slowly spread his light over the earth.
“I will start to shine now it’s better if you go home immediately, or you might lose your light.”
Stubbornly, Luna did not move and stayed where she is until she felt Mr. Sun's light on her. She started to move away from Mr. Sun and with a bowed head she turned around when Mr. Sun called out, “Wait!”
Slowly, the gray trees were turning to green and the black flowers were turning to red.
Luna was very happy and she couldn't believe that she had finally seen the colors green and red.
“So that's the color green!” she yelled ecstatically.
She turned around and saw Mr. Sun smiling at her and slowly spreading his light. She smiled at Mr. Sun and waved goodbye.
“Thank you Mr. Sun. Till we meet again!” and she hurriedly went home with rejuvenated spirits.


---END ---

The things I had hoped for, wished for and prayed for.
Came to me in a dream, only in my dreams did I feel it’s’ presence.
The satisfaction one would get when finding a lost coin,
Or perhaps when finding the right direction,
When stuck in a forked road towards oblivion.

I wake up and my tears have dried already.
It seems I spent the better half of my night dreaming,
And the other half weeping.
For what I have that never had.
For what I lost but never really owned.

And it’s elusive…everything is just elusive…
Failure is not an option, a choice, or a preference by chance.
It happens… and it happens a lot… to me.

Love, success, acceptance and happiness,
By-products of an imagination available to those who dare,
To invest, to sow, to take a risk on people and life;
And still be brave enough to pick the leftovers of the night;
Once more taking the path down the lanes of misery.

But it’s elusive… everything is just elusive.
Failures take its toll and passivity wins its place;
In the front line of reality losers do lose
And victors trample the rubble that is your spirit.

June 12, 2008 11:30PM

Singing show tunes and alongside Jason Mraz without really knowing what was the lyrics and just going along with the melody and anything that rhymes gives me a natural high. Takes me away from what’s bothering me, which at this point, I don’t really know. Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that I am again, taking my favorite steroid vitamins and earlier tonight had devised my own version of a long island iced-tea. I am a bit high, literally, drunk high if that’s what you call it.
I can’t believe I am actually writing right now. Mind you my spelling and grammar still kicks in. still can’t see any red lines or green ones at that.
I have thought about killing myself again today. Don’t take me wrong! I am not suicidal. I never was… and hope never will be. It’s just that, these kinds of thoughts amuses me and gives me a temporary escape route. Giggling at how I am going to do it without pain of course! Who would want to die in pain? Not me.
So, I figured sleeping pills… or maybe steroid overdose? Or perhaps drown myself in 20 capsules of Demerol or Valium or Stillnox; wherein I need to get a prescription to be able to purchase that stuff.
As you can see, I live alone so the success rate of my plan would be 100 percent. Since no one would check up on me in the morning or if I went out of my room or not…or if I even wake up. My body would only be discovered after a week or so, already stiff and in the process of decomposition.
Not a nice sight.
It would be the easiest way out. It would be the end of everything. It would grant me freedom, freedom from everything.
I feel that I have already captured the essence of what the world has to offer and comfortably accepted my fate that I will never get to experience those things I see on the television or go to places and hop on a train and go from one country to another.
Again, don’t take me wrong. I have a wonderful family and a wonderful lover. I am blessed enormously with them, that I feel I don’t deserve them. Maybe it has something to do with my being ***. I feel that no matter what I do, they will never accept me. And no matter what I do I will never be able to accept myself if the people around me are not happy with me.
i am giving up… on me.
I have thought of going away, to a place where nobody would know me. A place where I can work menial jobs and earn my keep and not be totally dependent on my family, or to someone… my meager earnings from writing can not sufficiently cover my stay in the city. And what am I doing in the city? NOTHING.
No job. No penny. And with a disfigured face.
But the thing is, where am I to go? Where am I going to stay? How can I leave when I don’t even have enough to cover for whatever?
One thing left to do… total isolation and seclusion. I have thought of going home to the province. Perhaps if I try to kill myself there someone would find me soon enough. But if you want to kill yourself, you don’t want to be found when you’re not yet dead. Right?
I sit here writing while listening to some songs. I feel contented. I don’t need anyone. I don’t need anything. I am happy with my misery. My masked depression, where more often than not, I cry at no reason at all.

I have love.

But I am choosing to leave it behind for a peaceful non-existence in this world. Selfish… yes, but I guess it’s about time.

My eyes are hot right now and suddenly my nostrils seemed filled-up. As I write these things, perhaps this feeling of hopelessness and loneliness would go away. As it always does. I pray to have the strength to take on another fruitless day. Another senseless existence; another day waiting… just waiting…

I am 26 years old and I have nothing to prove to myself. Sure, I came from a prestigious university, got an 84 percent in the national examinations and graduated first honors in grade school… so what? It does not mean anything now. All of that were just fruitless and senseless accomplishments that would not in any way help me in my endeavors in the real world.

Tuesday. Three more days till I leave a job I learned to love for five months. I was apprehensive at first about being an online English tutor for Koreans. It seems that this has become the job trend for the new blood. That is – jobless, newly grad, experience-less job hunters. I don’t belong in that group, heck no! I was comfortable sitting at home with my laptop, my cat, with the television and DVDs; until I craved to see the sun everyday, and see people in live action.

Hence, I applied. Got accepted and five months later, I resigned.

The experience was refreshing, for the first time I was surrounded with people my age or younger. In my previous jobs I was the youngest usually and the people I mingle with were mostly old men in their barongs and suits.

I must say I had a hard time saying goodbye. I was torn between two clashing rocks and there’s no way for me to escape but to drown or fly – I chose to fly. I will miss the people who accepted me for who I am and listened to all my rants about that concept who haunted me listlessly. I chose to break free and admit defeat and insipidness of my actions, and my existence. Who am I kidding? I like the people but I don’t like being taken advantage of. I must therefore assert myself and stand to my rights and say goodbye to a system that is bound to fail (I hope not, for the other employees’ sake). However, only people constitute that system so probably remove those people and the system would run smoothly, eh?

Nonetheless, I will surely miss the good times.

Thank you for the opportunity.

The trip to Corregidor was long overdue. Ever since I can remember I've always planned to go there and experience the adventure the island offers. The nostalgia of going through the dark barracks and the old-feeling of the big guns and canons scattered all over the island.

The ruins that looked so very post-card-ish were actually only picture perfect. It was not as breath taking as I expected. Well, in part I was expecting brick ruins and huge columns with moss-covered walls -- but I was taken aback. What was there was an exquisite arrangement of rubbles, and very clean, indeed. Huge blocks of cement and large iron bars sticking out was the only thing there. It wasn't as nostalgic as I expected.

The Tramvia ride was a revealing experience. The smell of the freshly-cut grass brings memories of my childhood as I sit underneath the mango tree and create doodles in my notebook and write never ending stories of epic proportions. It was so cool and refreshing...

The big guns were freshly painted with green and were positioned in a funny way (see picture) upright, very upright haha!

That was me in the yellow shirt in my favorite pose, like a signorina surveying her lands hehe

This is the mile long barracks. It has three floors and the whole stretch is 1/3 of a mile so it was called "Mile Long Barracks" because you multiply the floors in three and you get one mile. Capiche?

My friend wanted to climb it but I stopped her knowing the fragility of the structure and since it looked like its going to collapse anytime. Better to stay away and be safe rather than risk getting injured. We are 1 and a half hour away from a good hospital... not worth the pain.

I have this thing with lighthouses. I haven't been inside one and I've always wanted to experience going in there but fate was toying with me. I was excited to see the Spanish Lighthouse in Corregidor and was even ecstatic when in Susan Carlo Medina's Travel Time, they were able to climb up and survey the whole island. Which means we can also do the same thing. However, our tour guide just made a quick stop and didn't let us off the Tramvia. This shot here was taken as we are driving away from the site. It's still magnificent though.

To sum it up, the Php 1,800 that I paid for the trip was actually worth it. We had the ferry ride, transfers and the tour plus a buffet lunch and a ferry back to Manila. It was a notable experience one must take to familiarize herself with history. Kudos to the tour guides who knew everything there is to know about the wars and even the trivial statistics like how many American soldiers were killed versus how many Japanese soldiers were killed. It was actually surprising to find out that Corregidor, although geographically near Bataan, is declared a territory of Dasmarinas, Cavite.

When: February 16, 2008
Where: Dive and Trek Resort, Anilao, Batangas
Event: GMIC Reunited

It was roughly 10 years ago when the four of us had our picture taken together. That was before our highschool graduation. It was just nostalgic. Having this part of my life back again.



G--Gea
M --Maye
I -- Imee
C -- Chanteuse

Long live our barkada!!! :)

Writing Crisis

It’s been three weeks since my last writing project. A project that usually only takes 3 nights to complete, took me a heavy two weeks to finish. Those two weeks did not necessarily mean that I have been working the whole time. I spent the good half of my working time (that is 1 am to 6am) staring at my laptop and playing beautiful eyes with the fluorescent light.

I didn’t know what was going on with me. I have the energy to write but it seems that inspiration has deserted me. My fingers missed the feeling of stroking the keyboard but as soon as it touches the surface of the laptop, I freeze. Literally, and figuratively-I freeze. As I was suspended in a catatonic position my mind also went blank.

That was the first time I was at a loss for words. My mind was speechless and I am not able to write anything intelligible – not even a simple blog entry. Nada. Zilch. Nunca.

The surprising thing was, I was not scared. I was actually relaxed, even as the days turn into hours before my deadline. Perhaps my mind was wandering somewhere else that I had to go find it and force it to work, just this last time… and I did. Five hours before my deadline I spent an agonizing night finishing up a 25-page thesis proposal. Not my best, I know… but better than nothing, right?

AND…for the first time in a long time. This appears to be my first entry this year, after three months. I am writing again. I am back in the creative realm. Not just in the academic-commercial side of writing. Maybe that’s what's missing in my life. The creative flow - It had abandoned me long ago when I decided I am going to make money from my writings; which I did. So, it left me hung and dry. Until I summed up my courage to rouse it back in.