Sunday, 31 December 2006
Friday, 29 December 2006
Yearend Reflections
Dec. 29, 2006
(Last day on the job. Marella - a good friend and confidante, is flying off to DC)
One of my dad's favorite quotable quotes is how people are like mango trees... and how we don't bear fruit unless we are pruned, trimmed, hacked and burned... pushed to our knees.
After several consecutive years of breakneck growth, achievement and fulfilment, 2006 was a year when I got pruned/hacked. It's been a humbling experience to go through a virtual reset of my life.
From being a college senior, to a corporate salt mine freshman.
To come from a small design firm (where I was at least relevant to things), to a large real-estate corporation (where I am merely a replacable automaton in the large machine)...
To make hard decisions and to have them backfire on you and not get the result you've been aiming for...
To see many of your good friends and peers move and get opportunities abroad, while I prioritize my local internship...
To be an idealistic kid in the middle of a sea of people, just making a living... and to realize the luxury of believing in something in the midst of the harsh realities of life...
To be an idealistic kid, eager to make a change... and to be pushed down by the circumstances...
To hold people/organizations in such high regard, and get betrayed by the system.
To realize that you don't have the leverage...
To see your old man- and by extension, yourself get shunned by big corporate clients...
To want something, work for it, and not get it.
To love and let go... and to long in your solitude...
To find God, and stumble so many times because of your weakness...
If you're one of the rare multiply netizens who'd drop by to read my blog, you've probably noticed the waves of angst in the links.
I learned a lot. I've been humbled. And I hope this makes me a better person.
Cheers to 2006. Thank God its over. It has woven steel into my nerves, and strengthened my resolve.
2007 will be a pivotal year. I hope that 2006 has prepared me well for it.
(Last day on the job. Marella - a good friend and confidante, is flying off to DC)
One of my dad's favorite quotable quotes is how people are like mango trees... and how we don't bear fruit unless we are pruned, trimmed, hacked and burned... pushed to our knees.
After several consecutive years of breakneck growth, achievement and fulfilment, 2006 was a year when I got pruned/hacked. It's been a humbling experience to go through a virtual reset of my life.
From being a college senior, to a corporate salt mine freshman.
To come from a small design firm (where I was at least relevant to things), to a large real-estate corporation (where I am merely a replacable automaton in the large machine)...
To make hard decisions and to have them backfire on you and not get the result you've been aiming for...
To see many of your good friends and peers move and get opportunities abroad, while I prioritize my local internship...
To be an idealistic kid in the middle of a sea of people, just making a living... and to realize the luxury of believing in something in the midst of the harsh realities of life...
To be an idealistic kid, eager to make a change... and to be pushed down by the circumstances...
To hold people/organizations in such high regard, and get betrayed by the system.
To realize that you don't have the leverage...
To see your old man- and by extension, yourself get shunned by big corporate clients...
To want something, work for it, and not get it.
To love and let go... and to long in your solitude...
To find God, and stumble so many times because of your weakness...
If you're one of the rare multiply netizens who'd drop by to read my blog, you've probably noticed the waves of angst in the links.
I learned a lot. I've been humbled. And I hope this makes me a better person.
Cheers to 2006. Thank God its over. It has woven steel into my nerves, and strengthened my resolve.
2007 will be a pivotal year. I hope that 2006 has prepared me well for it.
Thursday, 28 December 2006
City Manifesto
The three red lights blink
He follows to and from the east
as she weaves through
in the rush of the moment
forgetting his identity
yet she leads him back
and helps him find it
The three red lights flare
at his teary eyes
as he remembers the places
from the city to the suburbs
from the city to the hills
and canyons on its outskirts
Manila
Ortigas
Cainta
Quezon
Alabang
Tagaytay
Paranaque
Dubai?
Singapore?
Hong Kong?
San Francisco?
Washington DC
Adventure or escape?
constriction and release
each curb and corner
each encounter
liberates and frees
The bondage of asphalt pavement
gives way
to the freedom of the runway
As the city turns
May she find her place
in the grand scheme of things
The city found me
and my connection with it
continues and thrives
as I long to grow and
build on my foundations
and maybe some day
find the city
and help build her
Nonetheless, cities are abound
and will never be in short supply
for the waves of builders like me;
but none can ever be
my emerald city
glowing in the night
fleeting, ephemeral
eternal in my memory
Sunday, 24 December 2006
Saturday, 23 December 2006
Thursday, 21 December 2006
You know you're an arch./student when ...
1. ...the alarm clock tells you when to go to sleep.
2. ...you're not ashamed of drooling in class anymore, especially in the
Structures lecture.
3. ...you can distinguish tastes of various glues better than a french wine taster.
4. ...you CELEBRATE space and OBSERVE your birthday.
5. ...coffee and cokes are tools, not treats.
6. ...people get nauseous just by smelling your caffeine breath.
7. ...you get surprised when you see a new building in your school.
8. ...you think it's possible to CREATE space.
9. ...you've slept more than 20 hours non-stop in a single weekend.
10. ...you fight with inanimate objects.
11.... you've fallen asleep in the washroom.
12. .you're brother or sister thinks he or she is an only child.
13. ...you've listened to all your CDs and cassettes in less than 48 hours.
14. ...you're not seen in public.
15. ...you lose your house keys for a weekend you don't even notice.
16. ...you've brushed your teeth and washed your hair in the school's
washroom.
17. ...you've discovered the benefits of having none or very short hair.
You've started to appreciate inheriting baldness.
18. ...you've used an entire roll of film to photograph the sidewalk.
19. ...you know the exact time the vending machines are refilled.
20. ...you always carry your deodorant.
21. ...you become excellent at recycling when making models.
22. ...when you try to communicate, you make a continuous and monotonous
whine.
23. ...you've danced a fav club dance number with excellent
choreography at 3 am and without a single drop of alcohol in your body.
24. ...you take notes and messages with a radiograph and colour markers.
25. ...you combine breakfast, lunch and dinner into one single meal.
26. ...you see holidays only as extra sleeping time.
27. ...you've got more photographs of buildings than of actual people.
28....you've taken your girlfriend(boyfriend)on a date to a construction site.
29. ...you've realized that French curves are not that exciting.
30. ..you can live without human contact, food or daylight, but if you can't
print. it's chaos.
31... when youre being shown pictures of a trip, you ask what the human
scale is.
32. ...you can use Photoshop, Illustrator and make a web page, but you don't know how to use Excel.
33. ...You refer to great architects (dead or alive) by their first name, as
if you knew them.(Frank, Corbu, Mies, Norman...)
34. ...you make numerous photocopies that you haven't read yet.
any additions ?
2. ...you're not ashamed of drooling in class anymore, especially in the
Structures lecture.
3. ...you can distinguish tastes of various glues better than a french wine taster.
4. ...you CELEBRATE space and OBSERVE your birthday.
5. ...coffee and cokes are tools, not treats.
6. ...people get nauseous just by smelling your caffeine breath.
7. ...you get surprised when you see a new building in your school.
8. ...you think it's possible to CREATE space.
9. ...you've slept more than 20 hours non-stop in a single weekend.
10. ...you fight with inanimate objects.
11.... you've fallen asleep in the washroom.
12. .you're brother or sister thinks he or she is an only child.
13. ...you've listened to all your CDs and cassettes in less than 48 hours.
14. ...you're not seen in public.
15. ...you lose your house keys for a weekend you don't even notice.
16. ...you've brushed your teeth and washed your hair in the school's
washroom.
17. ...you've discovered the benefits of having none or very short hair.
You've started to appreciate inheriting baldness.
18. ...you've used an entire roll of film to photograph the sidewalk.
19. ...you know the exact time the vending machines are refilled.
20. ...you always carry your deodorant.
21. ...you become excellent at recycling when making models.
22. ...when you try to communicate, you make a continuous and monotonous
whine.
23. ...you've danced a fav club dance number with excellent
choreography at 3 am and without a single drop of alcohol in your body.
24. ...you take notes and messages with a radiograph and colour markers.
25. ...you combine breakfast, lunch and dinner into one single meal.
26. ...you see holidays only as extra sleeping time.
27. ...you've got more photographs of buildings than of actual people.
28....you've taken your girlfriend(boyfriend)on a date to a construction site.
29. ...you've realized that French curves are not that exciting.
30. ..you can live without human contact, food or daylight, but if you can't
print. it's chaos.
31... when youre being shown pictures of a trip, you ask what the human
scale is.
32. ...you can use Photoshop, Illustrator and make a web page, but you don't know how to use Excel.
33. ...You refer to great architects (dead or alive) by their first name, as
if you knew them.(Frank, Corbu, Mies, Norman...)
34. ...you make numerous photocopies that you haven't read yet.
any additions ?
Wednesday, 22 November 2006
If it works, it's obsolete!
IF IT WORKS,
IT’S
OBSOLETE
Marshall McLuhanisms
-thoughts in italics
The story of modern America begins With the discovery of the white man by
The Indians.
Only puny secrets need protection. Big discoveries are protected by public
incredulity.
Whereas convictions depend on speed-ups, justice requires delay.
The nature of people demands that most of them be engaged in the most
frivolous possible activities—like making money.
With telephone and TV it is not so much the message as the sender that is
“sent.”
Money is the poor man’s credit card.
We look at the present through a rear-view mirror. We march backwards into
the future.
Spaceship earth is still operated by railway conductors, just as NASA is
managed by men with Newtonian goals.
Invention is the mother of necessities.
You mean my whole fallacy’s wrong?
Mud sometimes gives the illusion of depth.
So does the glossy sheen/lacquer of beauty...
The car has become the carapace, the protective and aggressive shell, of urban and suburban man.
So true!
Why is it so easy to acquire the solutions of past problems and so difficult to solve current ones?
The trouble with a cheap, specialized education is that you never stop paying for it.
People don’t actually read newspapers. They step into them every morning like a hot bath.
The road is our major architectural form.
Correct! When a developer says that a project is 40 or 50% open space... don't believe it... because chances are, 35% of it is roadway. Same idea goes with the parking lot
Today each of us lives several hundred years in a decade.
Today the business of business is becoming the constant invention of new business.
True! Malls and businesses are in constant reinvention... heck, even Architecture has fallen into the realm of fashion... look no further than Vegas, where modernism is layered onto "obsolete" postmodernism
The price of eternal vigilance is indifference.
News, far more than art, is artifact.
When you are on the phone or on the air, you have no body.
Tomorrow is our permanent address.
All advertising advertises advertising.
And so the dog wags its tail, and chases it at the same time...
The answers are always inside the problem, not outside.
“Camp” is popular because it gives people a sense of reality to see a replay of their lives.
This information is top security. When you have read it, destroy yourself.
The specialist is one who never makes small mistakes while moving toward the grand fallacy.
One of the nicest things about being big is the luxury of thinking little.
In the case of the corporate world... so true... millions of people atrophy wasting their time waiting for their next paycheck... and not using their noodles to do something productive...
Politics offers yesterday’s answers to today’s questions.
The missing link created far more interest than all the chains and explanations of being.
In
big industry new ideas are invited to rear their heads so they can be
clobbered at once. The idea department of a big firm is a sort of lab
for isolating dangerous viruses.
The status quo is 10x lovelier than a big, new, game-changing idea, why? its so much easier... the one who benefits the most from a game-changer, is also the one that is oftentimes marginalized by the status-quo.
When a thing is current, it creates currency.
Food for the mind is like food for the body: the inputs are never the same as the outputs.
Case in point... a lot of educated people, churn out crappy work.
Men
on frontiers, whether of time or space, abandon their previous
identities. Neighborhood gives identity. Frontiers snatch it away.
This is true... and not necessarily negative or positive... people who grow and improve themselves adapt a migrant's mindset... one without firm neighborhoods and unbound by frontiers... the moment you're too confortable... you're not growing anymore...
The future of the book is the blurb.
People don't read anymore... tsk tsk...
The ignorance of how to use new knowledge stockpiles exponentially.
A road is a flattened-out wheel, rolled up in the belly of an airplane.
At the speed of light, policies and political parties yield place to charismatic images.
“I may be wrong, but I’m never in doubt.”
—Copyright © 1986, McLuhan Associates, Ltd.
IT’S
OBSOLETE
Marshall McLuhanisms
-thoughts in italics
The story of modern America begins With the discovery of the white man by
The Indians.
Only puny secrets need protection. Big discoveries are protected by public
incredulity.
Whereas convictions depend on speed-ups, justice requires delay.
The nature of people demands that most of them be engaged in the most
frivolous possible activities—like making money.
With telephone and TV it is not so much the message as the sender that is
“sent.”
Money is the poor man’s credit card.
We look at the present through a rear-view mirror. We march backwards into
the future.
Spaceship earth is still operated by railway conductors, just as NASA is
managed by men with Newtonian goals.
Invention is the mother of necessities.
You mean my whole fallacy’s wrong?
Mud sometimes gives the illusion of depth.
So does the glossy sheen/lacquer of beauty...
The car has become the carapace, the protective and aggressive shell, of urban and suburban man.
So true!
Why is it so easy to acquire the solutions of past problems and so difficult to solve current ones?
The trouble with a cheap, specialized education is that you never stop paying for it.
People don’t actually read newspapers. They step into them every morning like a hot bath.
The road is our major architectural form.
Correct! When a developer says that a project is 40 or 50% open space... don't believe it... because chances are, 35% of it is roadway. Same idea goes with the parking lot
Today each of us lives several hundred years in a decade.
Today the business of business is becoming the constant invention of new business.
True! Malls and businesses are in constant reinvention... heck, even Architecture has fallen into the realm of fashion... look no further than Vegas, where modernism is layered onto "obsolete" postmodernism
The price of eternal vigilance is indifference.
News, far more than art, is artifact.
When you are on the phone or on the air, you have no body.
Tomorrow is our permanent address.
All advertising advertises advertising.
And so the dog wags its tail, and chases it at the same time...
The answers are always inside the problem, not outside.
“Camp” is popular because it gives people a sense of reality to see a replay of their lives.
This information is top security. When you have read it, destroy yourself.
The specialist is one who never makes small mistakes while moving toward the grand fallacy.
One of the nicest things about being big is the luxury of thinking little.
In the case of the corporate world... so true... millions of people atrophy wasting their time waiting for their next paycheck... and not using their noodles to do something productive...
Politics offers yesterday’s answers to today’s questions.
The missing link created far more interest than all the chains and explanations of being.
In
big industry new ideas are invited to rear their heads so they can be
clobbered at once. The idea department of a big firm is a sort of lab
for isolating dangerous viruses.
The status quo is 10x lovelier than a big, new, game-changing idea, why? its so much easier... the one who benefits the most from a game-changer, is also the one that is oftentimes marginalized by the status-quo.
When a thing is current, it creates currency.
Food for the mind is like food for the body: the inputs are never the same as the outputs.
Case in point... a lot of educated people, churn out crappy work.
Men
on frontiers, whether of time or space, abandon their previous
identities. Neighborhood gives identity. Frontiers snatch it away.
This is true... and not necessarily negative or positive... people who grow and improve themselves adapt a migrant's mindset... one without firm neighborhoods and unbound by frontiers... the moment you're too confortable... you're not growing anymore...
The future of the book is the blurb.
People don't read anymore... tsk tsk...
The ignorance of how to use new knowledge stockpiles exponentially.
A road is a flattened-out wheel, rolled up in the belly of an airplane.
At the speed of light, policies and political parties yield place to charismatic images.
“I may be wrong, but I’m never in doubt.”
—Copyright © 1986, McLuhan Associates, Ltd.
Sunday, 19 November 2006
Random Update
1. Finally finished with the GREs... did pretty well, got a 610 verbal and a 690 math, (cut-off for M.Arch is around 550 verbal and 600 math, mean scores are 500 verbal, 550 math) I'm now in the thick of admission procedures for a couple of longshot schools. Doing the paperwork in UST and the Brit Council was hellish because of the lines and traffic...
2. Congrats to Manny Pacquiao! San ka naman nakakita ng sumasapak ng paatras? Ano yun? Fadeaway punch? Galing talaga ni Manny! Iba ka repa...
3. I saw the new Tan Yan Kee building and Alumni Park/Fountain in UST. I'm really disappointed with how things went. The money donated for the building could have gone to better use if the structure was sited and designed in a more responsive way. The building shows utter disregard for the fabric and context of the campus. Ditto for the fountain... which could have been located along the main vista through the Arch of the Centuries instead... Oh well...
4. Saw Casino Royale over the weekend, and I have to give it 2 thumbs
way up! Go figure... As a prequel it tells how James becomes Bond when he gets screwed over by a woman. That turns on the ice in his heart, and brings in the cold, playboy secret agent that we all know from the Bond flicks. I bet a lot of Men and Women can relate, once you get fooled/betrayed /or worse... Ignored by a loved one, it definitely changes the dynamic in your system and turns you into a jaded, remorseless, calculating, self-serving prick/bitch. Also... you got to love how they did the movie... That torture scene sure brought a lot of men wincing in faux pain. 5. Chris Cornell's opening theme for Casino Royale ROCKS!!!
6. Had the chance to teach a college design class last saturday. It was very fulfilling to stand there and actually see the class' reactions to my thoughts and directions for their project... The Pasig River Terminal System. They picked my mind after the class and told me that I stand as a startling contrast to how their current prof teaches the class. Indeed there may be no money in teaching, but I tell you, if you want to change the world and get the most fulfillment for your idealism... TEACH!
7. Finally had the chance to focus on some sideline projects, and things are moving along fine. Its tough when you constantly have to switch your attention between things-to-do. I'm a diesel... I need to warm-up on a specific task for me to make a full-lock contribution to what I'm doing.
Casino Royale Opening Theme
Artist: Chris Cornell
Song: You Know My Name
If you take a life do you know what you'll give?
Odds are, you won't like what it is
When the storm arrives, would you be seen with me?
By the merciless eyes of deceit?
I've seen angels fall from blinding heights
But you yourself are nothing so divine
Just next in line
Arm yourself because no-one else here will save you
The odds will betray you
And I will replace you
You can't deny the prize it may never fulfill you
It longs to kill you
Are you willing to die?
The coldest blood runs through my veins
You know my name
If you come inside things will not be the same
When you return to the night
And if you think you've won
You never saw me change
The game that we all been playing
I've seen diamonds cut through harder men
Than you yourself
But if you must pretend
You may meet your end
Arm yourself because no-one else here will save you
The odds will betray you
And I will replace you
You can't deny the prize it may never fulfill you
It longs to kill you
Are you willing to die?
The coldest blood runs through my veins
Try to hide your hand
Forget how to feel
Forget how to feel
Life is gone with just a spin of the wheel
Spin of the wheel
Arm yourself because no-one else here will save you
The odds will betray you
And I will replace you
You can't deny the prize it may never fulfill you
It longs to kill you
Are you willing to die?
The coldest blood runs through my veins
You know my name
You know my name
You know my name
You know my name
You know my name
You know my name
You know my name
Thursday, 2 November 2006
Sticking it to THE MAN
Its been a while since my last post. I've been too preoccupied with
work and a lot of other things. Although, there are times that I find
myself staring out into space, thinking of things to write about. And
here's a sampling:
1. I really need to get myself more involved with SFC. The longer I
don't attend household or go to chapter assembly, the more my internal
plumbing gets screwed up. Showing up at CLP last week helped a lot, I'd
want to serve more, although I think it'll happen later than sooner.
2. Remember, remember the 5th of November, the gunpowder treason and
plot. yep... thats the opening line to V for Vendetta. I went DVD
tripping last November 1... also watched Nacho Libre just for laughs.
Liked both movies because of the underlying theme of STICKING IT TO THE
MAN! Which is a very rebellious/rock and roll thread of thought. Heck,
come to think of it, even Jesus Christ stuck it to THE MAN.
3. Speaking of THE MAN... I just hate election season in the
Philippines, and yes, the coming holidays are ushering in next year's
round of lunacy by local/national politicians. Case-in-point: I've
counted more than 35 billboards plastered with our mayor's face,
proclaiming all sorts of spin/marketing crap... about the city
supporting the asian games athletes, about the city's beauty pageant...
come on man! How low brow can you go? To think I actually voted for
you. Just shut up, and quit plastering your initials on sidewalks all
over Paranaque. Running a city is more than that.
4. About THE MAN again... I just hate how people just drink up whatever
pop culture tells them to. Whatever happened to having your own
personality, and real depth? Not to go against capitalism of the free
market, but I think too many people end up as shallow shells of their
true selves, mainly because they just take in whatever crap that pop
culture/big business shoves down their brain pipes. Whatever happened
to critical thinking, about self-improvement, about mentoring/leading
people and finding inner beauty/content? Too many people are glossed
over by ads, fancy imagery/clothes/aesthetics/fancy gadgets and crap
but if you strip them of all of the wrapping, what do you see?
Oftentimes its a kid lost, without direction, and not knowing what they
really need to do. Its sad... because so many good, intelligent, and
able people end up doing mundane/mediocre crap in order to earn money
to buy more crap that they don't really need. Of course I don't claim
immunity from this, and I have to wrestle myself away from this reality
with every lucid interval, but how about the people who don't know
what's happening? Those folks who are perfectly content with that
arrangement. You might as well roll them up and plug them into the
matrix or something. We are losing a whole generation to it.
I'm running out of brain cells to think of other things... most of
whatever neurons I have are devoted to studying for the GRE and work,
and squeezing in a few hours for sidelines. Heck I don't even have free
neurons to get emotional about things that used to get me down. This
probably explains the absence of new content on my blog...
work and a lot of other things. Although, there are times that I find
myself staring out into space, thinking of things to write about. And
here's a sampling:
1. I really need to get myself more involved with SFC. The longer I
don't attend household or go to chapter assembly, the more my internal
plumbing gets screwed up. Showing up at CLP last week helped a lot, I'd
want to serve more, although I think it'll happen later than sooner.
2. Remember, remember the 5th of November, the gunpowder treason and
plot. yep... thats the opening line to V for Vendetta. I went DVD
tripping last November 1... also watched Nacho Libre just for laughs.
Liked both movies because of the underlying theme of STICKING IT TO THE
MAN! Which is a very rebellious/rock and roll thread of thought. Heck,
come to think of it, even Jesus Christ stuck it to THE MAN.
3. Speaking of THE MAN... I just hate election season in the
Philippines, and yes, the coming holidays are ushering in next year's
round of lunacy by local/national politicians. Case-in-point: I've
counted more than 35 billboards plastered with our mayor's face,
proclaiming all sorts of spin/marketing crap... about the city
supporting the asian games athletes, about the city's beauty pageant...
come on man! How low brow can you go? To think I actually voted for
you. Just shut up, and quit plastering your initials on sidewalks all
over Paranaque. Running a city is more than that.
4. About THE MAN again... I just hate how people just drink up whatever
pop culture tells them to. Whatever happened to having your own
personality, and real depth? Not to go against capitalism of the free
market, but I think too many people end up as shallow shells of their
true selves, mainly because they just take in whatever crap that pop
culture/big business shoves down their brain pipes. Whatever happened
to critical thinking, about self-improvement, about mentoring/leading
people and finding inner beauty/content? Too many people are glossed
over by ads, fancy imagery/clothes/aesthetics/fancy gadgets and crap
but if you strip them of all of the wrapping, what do you see?
Oftentimes its a kid lost, without direction, and not knowing what they
really need to do. Its sad... because so many good, intelligent, and
able people end up doing mundane/mediocre crap in order to earn money
to buy more crap that they don't really need. Of course I don't claim
immunity from this, and I have to wrestle myself away from this reality
with every lucid interval, but how about the people who don't know
what's happening? Those folks who are perfectly content with that
arrangement. You might as well roll them up and plug them into the
matrix or something. We are losing a whole generation to it.
I'm running out of brain cells to think of other things... most of
whatever neurons I have are devoted to studying for the GRE and work,
and squeezing in a few hours for sidelines. Heck I don't even have free
neurons to get emotional about things that used to get me down. This
probably explains the absence of new content on my blog...
Sunday, 8 October 2006
Site Inspection Photos
Nax ;) !
Although its going to be the first time to post some site photos, I've spent quite a great deal of time visting project job sites. I started out when I was in high school, I'd tag along with my dad to fit-out work and when things are much tamer. Now, I get to go into riskier settings with him. We'd tightrope some really narrow walkways and beams spanning gaping holes in the ground. We'd get to go up the slab and beam formwork and watch the "men of steel" ... the magbabakals on site put in the reinforcing ties for the columns, I've seen oatmeal-like batches of concrete being poured into slabs.
Its a risky and fun activity. It just shows that a lot of the stable and beautiful things/structures we see everyday start out as an unstable, disorderly yet orchestrated ballet of men, machines and materials working together to build something.
Its the best way to learn about scale and proportion, and how things go together. And, nothing beats the mounting thrill of watching something you had a hand in designing, come into fruition, with every drop of sweat, grain of sand, bag of cement and bar of steel going into it.
Wednesday, 4 October 2006
Just so you know...
I'm not taking on the assignment because I owe you anything. Nor am I
taking it on because I want you to feel like you owe me something. I
will charge you a fee, albeit a small one, in order to pay for small
procedural costs.
Not to put added pressure on me... but I am currently racking
my brains on the project. A small one, but a very challenging and
interesting assignment. I am doing my best on it, not because I want to
boast or to prove something to you or your parents. I stand to learn a
lot from the project. And I'm worried that I may not be around (because
of the HK engagement) to properly supervise implementation.
But most of all. I want it to be an expression. Of what? Well. You know
what. So anyway. Back to the drawingboard, before I end up promising
the moon for you
Monday, 2 October 2006
YEAAAAHHHH!!!! Congrats to the University of Santo Tomas!
For winning Game 3 of the finals for the Men's Basketball Tournament. This is so much sweeter because of the ff.:
1. 5 Years kaming minarinade sa UST, hindi kami nakatikim ng championship
2. I'm a LaSallian din! So buong-buo sa puso ko ang pagkaanti-blue eagles;) hehehe
3. Underdog wins over the favorite. need I say more?
4. Partida pa yun ah, fouled out na yung mga major players ng UST!
5. If Japs Cuan only made half of all his free throw opportunities, UST would have pulled away and the deficit would have been bigger for Ateneo.
6. Ha! A lot of my colleagues at work are from Ateneo!
So there you go!
Next Year uli! La Salle naman!!! ;)
1. 5 Years kaming minarinade sa UST, hindi kami nakatikim ng championship
2. I'm a LaSallian din! So buong-buo sa puso ko ang pagkaanti-blue eagles;) hehehe
3. Underdog wins over the favorite. need I say more?
4. Partida pa yun ah, fouled out na yung mga major players ng UST!
5. If Japs Cuan only made half of all his free throw opportunities, UST would have pulled away and the deficit would have been bigger for Ateneo.
6. Ha! A lot of my colleagues at work are from Ateneo!
So there you go!
Next Year uli! La Salle naman!!! ;)
Saturday, 30 September 2006
DLSZ Chapel and Retreat House Scheme 1 dated July 2006
This is the initial design study we submitted to the school. The submission package we provided included a research on the Church/Religious Building type along with case studies of important modernist churches. We were able to get a toehold on the project because of the research. But that's just the start of the real work. By the way, this scheme was a product of a lot of heated debate between me and my design principal (hahaha... who happens to be my father) I just conceded to him for a lot of items because, aside from the time pressure/schedule, I also had trouble articulating what I wanted and there are times you just got to hand over the ball to the team lead and see where he goes with it... layered cake notwithstanding...
DLSZ Chapel and Retreat House Scheme 3 dated 8-2006
Approaching the church from the road leading to DLSZ. That corner is Caliraya St.
This is my scheme... although internally, it was shot down by my principal, because of additional restrictions and a reduced program/budget. This is a massing study and most of the key ideas aren't seen on the perspectives. I can upload plans later.
Scattershots
1. Thank You Meralco for getting our power back online. I know you almost never get due props for what you do. So there you go. Good job... now about the refund that the SC ordered... hehehehe ;)
2. To everyone I've ignored the past couple of weeks (as if I'm such a social person to actually have a lot of them) please do excuse me, the past weekends were extremely loaded with work. Was finishing up some design dev drawings for a very important project, which I'll be posting on the photos section, for initial pin-up crits soon.
3. Go UST!!! In one of those rare chances where both my allegiances (to La Salle and UST) are unified, I'm cheering my head off for UST as they play rabid underdog, or... how do I say this... Tiger... to... The Ateneo (shit... isn't it just so annoying how atenistas say that) Matalo na sa lahat... wag lang sa atenista!
Thursday, 21 September 2006
Recipe for a design practice
Practicing Architect = scientist's logical mind + artist's passionate
heart and creative hands + businessman's stomach + pr man's mouth
heart and creative hands + businessman's stomach + pr man's mouth
Tuesday, 19 September 2006
Scattershots
Excuse me for the ff. below:
1. Chong naman! If you're going to try to inspire me to work. Don't try
to be cute. Don't talk about crap like "finding your north" and things
that are way too technical and over your head for you to have any real
credibility! I'm not dumb or stupid. I've been doing this for a long
time already, and I've been in more hellish scenarios with more
demanding masters/mentors. If you want to inspire people. Buzzwords and
fancy strategy talk are nothing but window dressing. Show your battle
scars. Show them that you're not afraid to get down and get your hands
dirty. Lead from the gutters, not from your ivory tower. Tsk tsk... if
my hunches are right, this is a big sign of things to come. The bigger
they are, the harder they come crashing down.
2. How's this for a Johnny Walker (keep on walking commercial)...
Chairman Mao and the long march. 12,000km walking around China trying
to get away from Chiang's KMT. That's Architecture and Design for you!
I've been apprenticing and training since I was in 6th grade... that's
more than 12 years of work. And I'll say it straight and true. A lot of
my peers have no idea of the true gravity and responsibility of what we
do. And it sucks when people shut you off for shallow generalizations
about you merely because they see your date-of-birth. But that's how
things go. I'll just keep doing what Mao did, and keep on walking.
Because pretty soon, I'll get there.
3. Great start for my 49ers. Everyones surprised with the new offense
installed by Norv Turner. Frank Gore, will be big, along with Alex
Smith and Antonio Bryant. Hope no one important in the team gets
injured. To the NFL: Watch out... the niners are on their way back.
4. One of my dad's favorite stories is of how mango trees don't start
bearing lots of fruit unless you start hurting them... by burning
debris under their branches, hacking at their trunks with machetes,
etc. People are like that. If you're too comfortable you don't grow.
You don't bear fruit. So many people in the world do not realize that
they are being lulled into stagnation by the same things they want to
obtain... Countless people have wasted their lives not knowing this,
and not growing further by focusing on what are the things they need to
grow further as individuals. But then again. They don't know about it.
So there is no regret or remorse on their part for whatever unrealized
potential they have. Because they have no idea, because they're
distracted by appearances, by ad imagery, by things that don't
matter... Heck I'm beginning to think maybe they don't have it in the
first place.
1. Chong naman! If you're going to try to inspire me to work. Don't try
to be cute. Don't talk about crap like "finding your north" and things
that are way too technical and over your head for you to have any real
credibility! I'm not dumb or stupid. I've been doing this for a long
time already, and I've been in more hellish scenarios with more
demanding masters/mentors. If you want to inspire people. Buzzwords and
fancy strategy talk are nothing but window dressing. Show your battle
scars. Show them that you're not afraid to get down and get your hands
dirty. Lead from the gutters, not from your ivory tower. Tsk tsk... if
my hunches are right, this is a big sign of things to come. The bigger
they are, the harder they come crashing down.
2. How's this for a Johnny Walker (keep on walking commercial)...
Chairman Mao and the long march. 12,000km walking around China trying
to get away from Chiang's KMT. That's Architecture and Design for you!
I've been apprenticing and training since I was in 6th grade... that's
more than 12 years of work. And I'll say it straight and true. A lot of
my peers have no idea of the true gravity and responsibility of what we
do. And it sucks when people shut you off for shallow generalizations
about you merely because they see your date-of-birth. But that's how
things go. I'll just keep doing what Mao did, and keep on walking.
Because pretty soon, I'll get there.
3. Great start for my 49ers. Everyones surprised with the new offense
installed by Norv Turner. Frank Gore, will be big, along with Alex
Smith and Antonio Bryant. Hope no one important in the team gets
injured. To the NFL: Watch out... the niners are on their way back.
4. One of my dad's favorite stories is of how mango trees don't start
bearing lots of fruit unless you start hurting them... by burning
debris under their branches, hacking at their trunks with machetes,
etc. People are like that. If you're too comfortable you don't grow.
You don't bear fruit. So many people in the world do not realize that
they are being lulled into stagnation by the same things they want to
obtain... Countless people have wasted their lives not knowing this,
and not growing further by focusing on what are the things they need to
grow further as individuals. But then again. They don't know about it.
So there is no regret or remorse on their part for whatever unrealized
potential they have. Because they have no idea, because they're
distracted by appearances, by ad imagery, by things that don't
matter... Heck I'm beginning to think maybe they don't have it in the
first place.
Thursday, 14 September 2006
2006 NFL Season Kickoff weekend! and why I love American Football... go 49ers!
Wwooooohooooo! After 7 months of waiting... from the official end of last year's season... the NFL Pro Bowl, to the NFL Draft, training camp and preseason, finally its here. The first week of the regular season in the NFL.
Now... if you're pinoy/filipino and reading this post, you'd probably be asking yourself... why does this guy keep track of the NFL? Why can't he just be like everyone else? I mean, yeah, I've been playing basketball since Vergel Meneses was a rookie... and that's a long time! It's just that I haven't really had a good run at it... yeah, I'm relatively tall... but I'm not built for it. Although, I admit, there are times I wonder what would have happened if I spent more time playing bball. But back when I was in HS (enter the HS angst and the High School Musical soundbites), I didn't fit in with the jock clique, actually I really doubt if I fit in with any of the cliques... So anyway... thats another post. Back to football...
Well, it really started out a long time ago with a few games of touch-football, these games triggered my interest in the game. During that time, about 12-13 years ago, I'd be watching the NFL on cable, and I'd be awed and dumbfounded at the sheer brilliance and precision that the San Francisco 49ers displayed as they ran their vaunted West Coast short passing offense. It was beautiful. It unlocked a whole world of strategy and tactical thought beneath the otherwise violent sport, known more for its hard-hitting players the size of mammoths.
Here you had Steve Young dropping back 3 or 5 quick steps in consistent rhythm and tempo and finding the open crossing or slant route (usually ran by Jerry Rice, slicing through zone coverage or beating his cover man) and launching a quick, accurate bullet to # 80. Thats just beautiful, strategic football.
All of this served as a stark contrast from the rest of the league (who were just about to catch on to the heavy passing offense) who ran a smash-mouth offensive package of boring runs.
As I dug deeper, I found another startling fact... Football, well, at least in America, is a true team sport. No one could carry his team. Everyone was co-dependent. Unlike basketball, where Kobe would score... what 83 points? and Tony Harris (a PBA import) would dominate with 105 points in one game (I saw that one on TV), or baseball, with the success of teams dependent mostly on their pitching unit, football in its purest and rawest sense is a team sport.
Although a lot of casual fans only see the fame/glory going to the skill positions (the quarterbacks, the runningbacks, the receivers) Their success is anchored on so many factors, such as the pass-blocking or run-blocking success of the offensive line, the scheme, the field position, etc. An even greater team dependence is visible with the defence, wherein their success is anchored on how long the offense holds the ball, and how each of the units perform. A good pass-rush will ease the work of the secondary and vice-versa. Good run gap control by the linebackers would force the offense to pass, which would open them up to turnovers and force them to become one-dimensional.
Football is great because, everyone is a specialist. You find something you can absolutely be good at, and master it, and beneath all the action, the strategy and codependencies you read into the game just add so much more fun to it. You actually see the blue-collar guys getting their due, and superstar skill players know that whatever success they have is also only possible with these lunch-pail guys.
Observe a local basketball game... like in a barangay league. And one of the things I notice is how most players just look forward to one thing, actually getting to touch the ball and getting it into the basket. In John Nash's economics, that's not a very good game, because the roles you play centered on the ball are very limited, and with that scarcity, there is bound to be a monopolist star.
Whereas, with football, because of the myriad of specializations and roles, everyone can be something. That, I think, would be a very good model of the real world. We all just have to find our roles and play them well.
Of course, that statement opens a lot of debate too... I'm not discussing the sort of attrition that nicheplayers and specialists (like professionals and businesses) go through to survive and suceed. But, I think that whatever attrition is due to the fact that you might actually be doing something you're not really very good at.
Another thing, with the NFL, everything is built around team parity. Every team has a chance of winning, on any given sunday. Underdogs can become champions, and favorites, often fall with a resounding thud. Unlike baseball and futbol/soccer, where the Yankees and Real Madrid have been signing the biggest free-agents on a yearly basis, football's powerbase shifts from different teams and conferences, as trends ebb and flow depending on the age of the players, strategies, coaching player movement and injuries.
So anyway... back to football... Last year my team finished last... 4 wins and 12 losses... one of the worst records the Niners earned in 2 decades. Oh how the mighty have fallen. Before all of this, the Niners were the favorites... with 5 superbowls to their credit, they were bound to fall given the current parity in the NFL. But thats just the beauty of it. I'm even more excited now that I get to watch an underdog prove everyone wrong.
And that's just the tip of the storyline iceberg... I'll be watching Mike Nolan (the second year head coach) try to make a case as he follows his dad Dick Nolan's footsteps as Niner head coach... I'll be watching Alex Smith, a 22 year-old starting quarterback, coming from a small school, with a 40 wonderlic score (that's an IQ/learning test for players... and that score puts him into MENSA territory), go through the growing pains of a young team leader... I'll be watching this year's bunch of rookies carve out a niche for themselves and play their hearts out.
My season prediction, my 9ers win a wildcard playoff berth at 9 wins 7 losses!
Are ya ready for some football? I know I am!!!
Now... if you're pinoy/filipino and reading this post, you'd probably be asking yourself... why does this guy keep track of the NFL? Why can't he just be like everyone else? I mean, yeah, I've been playing basketball since Vergel Meneses was a rookie... and that's a long time! It's just that I haven't really had a good run at it... yeah, I'm relatively tall... but I'm not built for it. Although, I admit, there are times I wonder what would have happened if I spent more time playing bball. But back when I was in HS (enter the HS angst and the High School Musical soundbites), I didn't fit in with the jock clique, actually I really doubt if I fit in with any of the cliques... So anyway... thats another post. Back to football...
Well, it really started out a long time ago with a few games of touch-football, these games triggered my interest in the game. During that time, about 12-13 years ago, I'd be watching the NFL on cable, and I'd be awed and dumbfounded at the sheer brilliance and precision that the San Francisco 49ers displayed as they ran their vaunted West Coast short passing offense. It was beautiful. It unlocked a whole world of strategy and tactical thought beneath the otherwise violent sport, known more for its hard-hitting players the size of mammoths.
Here you had Steve Young dropping back 3 or 5 quick steps in consistent rhythm and tempo and finding the open crossing or slant route (usually ran by Jerry Rice, slicing through zone coverage or beating his cover man) and launching a quick, accurate bullet to # 80. Thats just beautiful, strategic football.
All of this served as a stark contrast from the rest of the league (who were just about to catch on to the heavy passing offense) who ran a smash-mouth offensive package of boring runs.
As I dug deeper, I found another startling fact... Football, well, at least in America, is a true team sport. No one could carry his team. Everyone was co-dependent. Unlike basketball, where Kobe would score... what 83 points? and Tony Harris (a PBA import) would dominate with 105 points in one game (I saw that one on TV), or baseball, with the success of teams dependent mostly on their pitching unit, football in its purest and rawest sense is a team sport.
Although a lot of casual fans only see the fame/glory going to the skill positions (the quarterbacks, the runningbacks, the receivers) Their success is anchored on so many factors, such as the pass-blocking or run-blocking success of the offensive line, the scheme, the field position, etc. An even greater team dependence is visible with the defence, wherein their success is anchored on how long the offense holds the ball, and how each of the units perform. A good pass-rush will ease the work of the secondary and vice-versa. Good run gap control by the linebackers would force the offense to pass, which would open them up to turnovers and force them to become one-dimensional.
Football is great because, everyone is a specialist. You find something you can absolutely be good at, and master it, and beneath all the action, the strategy and codependencies you read into the game just add so much more fun to it. You actually see the blue-collar guys getting their due, and superstar skill players know that whatever success they have is also only possible with these lunch-pail guys.
Observe a local basketball game... like in a barangay league. And one of the things I notice is how most players just look forward to one thing, actually getting to touch the ball and getting it into the basket. In John Nash's economics, that's not a very good game, because the roles you play centered on the ball are very limited, and with that scarcity, there is bound to be a monopolist star.
Whereas, with football, because of the myriad of specializations and roles, everyone can be something. That, I think, would be a very good model of the real world. We all just have to find our roles and play them well.
Of course, that statement opens a lot of debate too... I'm not discussing the sort of attrition that nicheplayers and specialists (like professionals and businesses) go through to survive and suceed. But, I think that whatever attrition is due to the fact that you might actually be doing something you're not really very good at.
Another thing, with the NFL, everything is built around team parity. Every team has a chance of winning, on any given sunday. Underdogs can become champions, and favorites, often fall with a resounding thud. Unlike baseball and futbol/soccer, where the Yankees and Real Madrid have been signing the biggest free-agents on a yearly basis, football's powerbase shifts from different teams and conferences, as trends ebb and flow depending on the age of the players, strategies, coaching player movement and injuries.
So anyway... back to football... Last year my team finished last... 4 wins and 12 losses... one of the worst records the Niners earned in 2 decades. Oh how the mighty have fallen. Before all of this, the Niners were the favorites... with 5 superbowls to their credit, they were bound to fall given the current parity in the NFL. But thats just the beauty of it. I'm even more excited now that I get to watch an underdog prove everyone wrong.
And that's just the tip of the storyline iceberg... I'll be watching Mike Nolan (the second year head coach) try to make a case as he follows his dad Dick Nolan's footsteps as Niner head coach... I'll be watching Alex Smith, a 22 year-old starting quarterback, coming from a small school, with a 40 wonderlic score (that's an IQ/learning test for players... and that score puts him into MENSA territory), go through the growing pains of a young team leader... I'll be watching this year's bunch of rookies carve out a niche for themselves and play their hearts out.
My season prediction, my 9ers win a wildcard playoff berth at 9 wins 7 losses!
Are ya ready for some football? I know I am!!!
Wednesday, 6 September 2006
Continuum
| Rating: | ★★★★★ |
| Category: | Music |
| Genre: | Alternative Rock |
| Artist: | John Mayer |
The reason why I have a high regard for this talented, self-conscious singer-songwriter is that his sense of introspection is unparalleled. And this brings us with very subtle, yet profound lyrics which offers us a different point of view of our world.
He may not appeal to everyone but, his work does to me, because I could relate to it. His music grows along with me, from the high-school angst in No Such Thing, the fumbling flirt in Your Body is a Wonderland, to the self-assured promising, idealistic youthful in Bigger than my Body, and virtually all his other songs.
With this album, I can sense a continuing growth and maturity in the artist as he talks about his ideals/beliefs and how he moves on from a bad relationship.
Also, he does a great cover of a Jimi Hendrix original, Bold as Love... a song which showcases his guitar skills.
5 stars to this album. This guy's good, and he'll continue to grow, and talk/sing about things that will continue to be relevant and that spring from his heart.
Tuesday, 5 September 2006
Bigger than my Body - John Mayer
This is a call to the color-blind
This is an IOU
I'm stranded behind a horizon line
Tied up in something true
Yes, I'm grounded
Got my wings clipped
I'm surrounded (by)
All this pavement
Guess I'll circle
While I'm waiting
For my fuse to dry
Someday I'll fly
Someday I'll soar
Someday I'll be so damn much more
Cause I'm bigger than my body gives me credit for
Why is it not my time?
What is there more to learn?
Shed this skin I've been tripping in
Never to quite return
Yes, I'm grounded
Got my wings clipped
I'm surrounded (by)
All this pavement
Guess I'll circle
While I'm waiting
For my fuse to dry
Someday I'll fly
Someday I'll soar
Someday I'll be so damn much more
Cause I'm bigger than my body gives me credit for
Cause I'm bigger than my body now
Maybe I'll tangle in the power lines
And it might be over in a second's time
But I'll gladly go down in a flame
If the flame's what it takes to remember my name
Yes, I'm grounded
Got my wings clipped
I'm surrounded (by)
All this pavement
Guess I'll circle
While I'm waiting
For my fuse to dry
For my fuse to dry
Someday I'll fly
Someday I'll soar
Someday I'll be so damn much more
Cause I'm bigger than my body
I'm bigger than my body
I'm bigger than my body now
This is an IOU
I'm stranded behind a horizon line
Tied up in something true
Yes, I'm grounded
Got my wings clipped
I'm surrounded (by)
All this pavement
Guess I'll circle
While I'm waiting
For my fuse to dry
Someday I'll fly
Someday I'll soar
Someday I'll be so damn much more
Cause I'm bigger than my body gives me credit for
Why is it not my time?
What is there more to learn?
Shed this skin I've been tripping in
Never to quite return
Yes, I'm grounded
Got my wings clipped
I'm surrounded (by)
All this pavement
Guess I'll circle
While I'm waiting
For my fuse to dry
Someday I'll fly
Someday I'll soar
Someday I'll be so damn much more
Cause I'm bigger than my body gives me credit for
Cause I'm bigger than my body now
Maybe I'll tangle in the power lines
And it might be over in a second's time
But I'll gladly go down in a flame
If the flame's what it takes to remember my name
Yes, I'm grounded
Got my wings clipped
I'm surrounded (by)
All this pavement
Guess I'll circle
While I'm waiting
For my fuse to dry
For my fuse to dry
Someday I'll fly
Someday I'll soar
Someday I'll be so damn much more
Cause I'm bigger than my body
I'm bigger than my body
I'm bigger than my body now
Friday, 18 August 2006
Random shots na off-track
1. I've been watching very little TV lately, and with whatever time I've had, I end up watching a cooking show like Emeril or Iron Chef... which leads me to wonder what would be the best strategy to beat these Iron Chefs, who usually dish out 4-5 entrees in the given hour. Rarely do you see challengers beating out the iron chefs with just 2-3 entrees out... I think the Iron chefs don't focus too much on just the quality of the dishes, but more on the attack on the senses that they create, the sheer number/barrage of tastes and aromas that they can cook up in a span of 1 hour.
2. Saw The Butterfly Effect 2, pretty decent movie, which does serve up an intriguing storyline and poses a few good questions... which I'll ponder some other time...
3. I heard from a friend that Ayn Rand's 2 landmark novels... The Fountainhead and Atlas Shrugged are going to be put into film... with Atlas Shrugged starring Angelina Jolie as Dagny Taggart (a very worthy choice... although... I could have gone with Charlize Theron or Claire Forlani for the role) and a Fountainhead remake. I think its good that both these books are being put to film, a much more widespread medium, because I think the media in general have run out of heroic things to talk about... storylines that inspire people, and not just mundane love stories and comedies, but stories that illicit motive power in people.
2. Saw The Butterfly Effect 2, pretty decent movie, which does serve up an intriguing storyline and poses a few good questions... which I'll ponder some other time...
3. I heard from a friend that Ayn Rand's 2 landmark novels... The Fountainhead and Atlas Shrugged are going to be put into film... with Atlas Shrugged starring Angelina Jolie as Dagny Taggart (a very worthy choice... although... I could have gone with Charlize Theron or Claire Forlani for the role) and a Fountainhead remake. I think its good that both these books are being put to film, a much more widespread medium, because I think the media in general have run out of heroic things to talk about... storylines that inspire people, and not just mundane love stories and comedies, but stories that illicit motive power in people.
The Principle of Joy (worldly version)
What's the principle of joy: Its simple... finding something you love and believe in, and doing it, making it happen, and enlightening other people about it. That's happiness right there.
People have no idea, that a lot of what we see in media everyday, are merely distractions, to get us what we can't find in our work. You don't enjoy what you do, well, maybe marginally, you get by with a faint glimmer of enthusiasm, but the truth is, you work because you need to get paid.
Which is all well and good. We all need to put food on our plates and pay the bills, but tell me honestly, after earning all that money and spending it on clothes, gadgets and extras, do you feel happy?
After finishing with your newly acquired toys you realize you're back in your office doing something you really don't like, waiting for your next paycheck. And so the cycle continues.
To some who wandered during there single years, starting a family galvinizes them into action and passionate work, not just to bring the basics to the family, but in order to raise the children properly.
For others, they find it in social causes, in grand statements, taking the less travelled road, and moving into altruistic and giving service.
And for a lucky few, they get to do it everyday, in their own little way. There's the pilot who leaps his plane into the morning sky, weightless with the never-ceasing awe, wonder and thrill of flight.
There's the singer-songwriter, who gets to belt out his own words... ever notice that, no matter how good a singer is, if he didn't write it himself, chances are he's just acting the part, and people can tell that... people can sense that... which is why very few singers/artists become successful (not necessarily famous) with a copy/cover/remake for their first shot.
People will always listen to you no matter how bad the song is, as long as you wrote it. Why? Because its from you, its genuine, and as much as they may cringe in their seats or applaud you, you don't care what they say about it, you just continue with it anyway.
And in the end, people respect that. The marketplace will respect that.
There's the businessman, who genuinely enjoys the process of earning. And of being able to do things he loves with the mobility that his money affords him, who later in life, may or may not realize that there are other things that money can't buy, which would lead him to service and philantropy, both of which can be truly rewarding activities as well. Probably much more rewarding than your typical million peso/dollar splurge.
Then there's the artist, architect, designer, sculptor, painter, etc. Who, no matter how small his project may be, is happy because he gets to call it his own, to bring an idea, strategy and vision into fruition is probably the joy-filled and thrilling act in this world. To see it there, standing, a door, a railing, a wall, a painting, a trinket, a portrait, whatever it is, is testament and reflection to the creator and his Creator.
So in the end, whats the cause of joy, i mean true honest pleasure? The singular act of creation, when we, as humans, put by God on earth, enact and become cocreators with Him. That is probably the only thing that brings joy and true pleasure to us as humans. Creating environments, creating lasting memories/experiences, creating the next generation.
Monday, 14 August 2006
Generator by the Foo Fighters
Lately Im getting better
Wish I could stay sick with you
But theres too many egos left to bruise
Call it sin
You can call it whatever
Eating deep inside of you
Well if it were me its all Id ever do
Steal me now and forever
Ill steal something good for you
The criminal in me is no-one new
Till you find something better
When theres nothing left to use
And everything starts going down on you
Im the generator
Firing whenever you quit
Yeah, whatever it is
You go out and its on
Yeah cant you hear my motored heart
Youre the one that started it
Send me out on a tether
Swing it round
Ill spin your noose
You let it down
Ill hang around with you
Till you find someone better
When theres no-one left to lose
Everyone keeps going down
Im the generator
Firing whenever you quit
Yeah, whatever it is
You go out and its on
Yeah cant you hear my motored heart
Youre the one that started it
Wish I could stay sick with you
But theres too many egos left to bruise
Call it sin
You can call it whatever
Eating deep inside of you
Well if it were me its all Id ever do
Steal me now and forever
Ill steal something good for you
The criminal in me is no-one new
Till you find something better
When theres nothing left to use
And everything starts going down on you
Im the generator
Firing whenever you quit
Yeah, whatever it is
You go out and its on
Yeah cant you hear my motored heart
Youre the one that started it
Send me out on a tether
Swing it round
Ill spin your noose
You let it down
Ill hang around with you
Till you find someone better
When theres no-one left to lose
Everyone keeps going down
Im the generator
Firing whenever you quit
Yeah, whatever it is
You go out and its on
Yeah cant you hear my motored heart
Youre the one that started it
Thursday, 10 August 2006
Having it easy? Not really... just not making it look difficult.
One of my colleagues slipped his tongue and made a very subversive
remark at me yesterday. Saying that I had it easy, because my dad's an
architect, and that we have a firm, and that I've been trained by him
ever since I was a freshman in HS.
Yes, given those comparative advantages to majority of my colleagues
and peers, from the third-person's shallow point-of-view, its so much
easier for me to eke out my career path. But really now? You have no
idea.
As for being an architect's kid? Or any kid who's following in his/her
parent's footsteps for that matter, Ask anyone in the same position and
you'll see that the blessing/perk of having an in-house mentor is
coupled with tremendous pressure and strain. Countless days and nights
have been driven by fiery, humbling personal critique. But the one
thing that will keep you pushing hard is love. Soon, your love for your
profession will only equal your love for your parents. And that's when
the 2 become intertwined, never to be ripped apart.
Soon, the desire to please your parents disappears, and becomes your
genuine, honest desire to push the envelope and bring things to the
next level. To correct what's wrong, to change things, and to drive
others as well.
Soon, the desire to get plugged into the corporate world's comfortable
matrix disappears, and gets replaced with your desire to slug it out in
the real market, strike out on your own and fight your battles beyond
your home borders. Knowing that the corporate world's comforts will
never bring you artistic and professional independence, freedom and a
name.
And when all this happens, along with your own realization that, you
can actually do this and hang with the boys, and when resources meet
capabilities, properly matched with opportunities, you can only feel
your own desire to meet these circumstances, with your best, truest
effort.
Many have tried, failed for lack of desire and ability, faltered, got
their priorities sidetracked, abandoned and quit, and very few have
truly succeeded. But ask anyone if they regret it, and they will
say that the ride was worth it.
Truly, much is expected from those whom much is given. I don't see my
advantages as safety nets and mere fall back positions, I see them as
tickets to take bigger risks, to take bigger challenges, and to go
further away from my comfort zone.
Tsk, tsk, if you think I have it easy, then sorry to say, your
standards and my standards are different. I'm just starting out, the
road is still long. If you think my corporate dayjob is the end all and
be all of my existence, then you are mistaken, thats just plan B.
remark at me yesterday. Saying that I had it easy, because my dad's an
architect, and that we have a firm, and that I've been trained by him
ever since I was a freshman in HS.
Yes, given those comparative advantages to majority of my colleagues
and peers, from the third-person's shallow point-of-view, its so much
easier for me to eke out my career path. But really now? You have no
idea.
As for being an architect's kid? Or any kid who's following in his/her
parent's footsteps for that matter, Ask anyone in the same position and
you'll see that the blessing/perk of having an in-house mentor is
coupled with tremendous pressure and strain. Countless days and nights
have been driven by fiery, humbling personal critique. But the one
thing that will keep you pushing hard is love. Soon, your love for your
profession will only equal your love for your parents. And that's when
the 2 become intertwined, never to be ripped apart.
Soon, the desire to please your parents disappears, and becomes your
genuine, honest desire to push the envelope and bring things to the
next level. To correct what's wrong, to change things, and to drive
others as well.
Soon, the desire to get plugged into the corporate world's comfortable
matrix disappears, and gets replaced with your desire to slug it out in
the real market, strike out on your own and fight your battles beyond
your home borders. Knowing that the corporate world's comforts will
never bring you artistic and professional independence, freedom and a
name.
And when all this happens, along with your own realization that, you
can actually do this and hang with the boys, and when resources meet
capabilities, properly matched with opportunities, you can only feel
your own desire to meet these circumstances, with your best, truest
effort.
Many have tried, failed for lack of desire and ability, faltered, got
their priorities sidetracked, abandoned and quit, and very few have
truly succeeded. But ask anyone if they regret it, and they will
say that the ride was worth it.
Truly, much is expected from those whom much is given. I don't see my
advantages as safety nets and mere fall back positions, I see them as
tickets to take bigger risks, to take bigger challenges, and to go
further away from my comfort zone.
Tsk, tsk, if you think I have it easy, then sorry to say, your
standards and my standards are different. I'm just starting out, the
road is still long. If you think my corporate dayjob is the end all and
be all of my existence, then you are mistaken, thats just plan B.
Monday, 31 July 2006
IT'S THE HACIENDA WORLD AS WE KNOW IT: THE DECLINE OF THE FILIPINO SPANISH MESTIZO AT THE DAWN OF THE MILLENIUM - by Carlos Celdran
This is good reading... and offers a lot of insights. But I also have a lot of things to say... maybe later nga lang.
IT'S THE HACIENDA WORLD AS WE KNOW IT: THE DECLINE OF THE FILIPINO SPANISH MESTIZO AT THE DAWN OF THE MILLENIUM
Overheard in Alabang Town Center: "Shet, dude. I'm a cono kid daw. But that's ok."
Inaki
Ibaturralde seemed like he had it all. Young, tall, fair, and
good-looking, he was a Makati born, Alabang bred, English speaking,
Spanish swearing, mestizo of Basque descent. After his secondary
education in Manila's premier Opus Dei school, he spent his college
years in California, before taking the position of Senior Vice
President at his father's Ayala Avenue trading firm at the tender age
of twenty eight. In 2003, he married Chavelli Lazarriaga, another fair
skinned mestiza with an equally fair family name who worked in Manila's
fashion industry. They were wed in a highly publicized ceremony at the
San Antonio in Forbes Park and were expecting their second child by the
end of last year. Life couldn't seem any more charmed. They were the
"IT" couple of the Polo Club and Punta Fuego set; golden examples of
Manila's young "alta" society and the touchstone for couples in
Manila's millenium generation of de buena familia Spanish mestizos in
Dasmarinas Village and Ayala Alabang.
But
underneath this espadrille-wearing, tanned-while-jet-skiing-at-Tali
facade, something was amiss over at the hacienda, so to speak.
Apparently, Inaki had developed a taste for inhaling copious amounts of
cocaine. Not an easy habit to cultivate, mind you, as such imported
indulgences are mainly available through clandestine deals done in five
star hotel rooms at U$350.00 a pop as opposed to the Php1500.00
per-bag-on-the-street-corner deals for it's local "masa" counterpart,
"shabu" (Crystal Metamphetamine). And for the past few years, Inaki
miraculously managed to keep this sordid detail under wraps - from both
wife and family - until things started unravelling - and quite messily
at that - at home.
It was
only a year after his third wedding anniversary that Inaki started
acting out of sorts. Due to limited access to family bank accounts,
Inaki had resorted to "shabu" and the addiction had taken it's toll.
Inaki looked bloated and sweaty at business meetings and his habit of
locking himself into the downstairs den (sometimes for up to two days)
was something which began to concern his young wife. Nevertheless, his
habit remained overlooked - perhaps subconsciously - by those around
him until last Christmas eve when his mother's maid found drug
paraphernalia (crystal pipe and a roll of tinfoil) in the front seat of
his car while transferring Christmas presents to the tree. So after a
rather audible confrontation, Inaki was banished from his wife, family
and their digs above his mother's garage to fend for himself. Nothing
was heard of him until a month ago, when a segment on the evening news
revealed that Inaki had knifed a tricycle driver in United Paranaque
while in a frantic state of paranoia. Today, he sits in a
rehabilitation center in Bicutan, his wife now settled in the United
States with both children, far away from the scandal and shame. The
golden boy now tarnished in the eyes of the upper crust - an outcast
from the walls of his city.
Now
although the aforementioned is merely an extreme composite of
characters, sadly, Inaki's story is not a rare one one among the
families of Manila's todo insular, Royal Ambre scented crowd. His story
is that of a promise unfulfilled; a morality tale about the importance
of restraint and self-confidence and an image symbolic of the state of
Hispanic Filipinos the 21st century. It's a metaphor about his
ancestry, that of Spanish mestizos, also known as "tisoys" or "cono
kids" - a monicker derived from their habit of peppering conversations
with the aforementioned "c" word. They are a people that have lost
their footing in this world, and have no idea how to go about standing
up and finding it once again.
But
how did the "tisoy", once a proud, plentiful, and productive breed
found freely grazing and settling in the open districts of Ermita,
Malate, Pasay, and San Miguel, fall so far from the status that they
enjoyed in the Philippines for hundreds of years? From the 19th century
until the mid-seventies, the "tisoy" and his culture were ubiquitous to
the Philippine landscape. From the hallways of the country's
corporations to the billboards which trimmed our highways, the images
of Spanish mestizeria could be found managing multinational
corporations or modelling the latest fashions. Manning shop counters at
the Escolta, counting cash behind bank windows, or serving coffee in
the sky, mestizos and mestizas were everywhere. But in an amazingly
ironic turn of events, from being the dominant culture which the
populace yearned to emulate, they now find themselves marginalized and
struggling to find their position in a Filipinas that has decided to
fully embrace it's Asian roots in the twenty-first century. Just turn
on the television or watch a movie and the glaring irrelevance of the
mestizo will immediately stare back at you. Gone are the days of the
artista male romantic lead in the mold of Rogelio dela Rosa, Edu
Manzano, or Gabby Concepcion. Even mestizos de entresuelos (mestizong
bangus or quasi-mestizo mestizos) like Kuya Germs Moreno or Redford
White are also fast disappearing from the showbiz firmament. It's
obvious that the white skinned, aqualine nosed template has ceased to
be the pinnacle of male physical aspiration and in it's place we now
find the chinky charm of the late Rico Yan or the moreno mein of Piolo
Pascual. And instead of living near to their forefather's ancestral
lands near the walled city of Intramuros, Spanish mestizos now find
themselves commuting back and forth from the newer gated districts of
Makati, Paranaque, and Alabang. The displacement of their home and
their culture was a cruel fate that had crept up without warning. But
how did this come to be? Nobody can say for sure. One can only
hypothesize.
Perhaps it's because they lost their home?
Overheard at a tour from a guest: "These mestizos really liked their walled cities.."
It
was only when I heard this statement that I realized the concept of the
"gated community" is something that has always been integral to the
personality of Manila. The notion of a society that is "within" and one
that is "without" is still as prelevant today as it was in the times of
Jose Rizal. Just replace the subdivision security guards with the
guardia civil and the Household helpers ID/Community Tax Certificate
with the cedula and it's Noli Me Tangere with a cheaper wardrobe
budget. But although the system still remains, Intramuros - the city
where this system originated has been gone for over 61 years now,
destroyed in February of 1945. In a battle between the Japanese
Imperial army and the US Armed Forces at the close of World War II,
this 400-year old Spanish designed walled city, and the most overt
physical manifestation of Spain's influence in the Orient became the
central war theatre within the capital. After a month of heavy
fighting, this city made of coral, volcanic ash, and wood, inspired by
designs from France, Madrid, and England, was pummeled to dust; the
largest and only specimen of Spain's presence in Asia wiped off the
face of the earth. Most everything we see today, with the excepton of
San Agustin Church; is a post-war reconstruction. And not only was the
walled city obliterated; but the Spanish mestizo residential enclaves
of Ermita, Malate, Sampaloc, and Pasay were left in ashes, their fair
skinned residents massacred and buried in mass graves. Even the "tisoy"
commercial playground that was Escolta in Santa Cruz - a place so
patrician that salesgirls even had to speak Spanish - was reduced to
rubble. It was really after this period that slow migration of the
surviving mestizos began. Perhaps driven away by the bitter memories of
the war or by the encroaching displaced rural poor, they first wandered
off into the promised - and gated - land of Makati suburbia in the
1950's, then into newer, flashier digs in Ayala Alabang in the 1980's.
But for those mestizos who ended up in the more middle class spectrum
of the social ladder by the 1970's, there were the gates of Merville
and BF Homes to keep the sweaty toiling extramuros communities at bay.
Eventually,
with the coming of President Marcos, things would come to a head for
the mestizo. Although the martial law era can be perceived as
oppressive on one hand, it was also a period when a cohesive Malay
identity was established for the Filipino through the cultural efforts
of Marcos' New Society Movement. It the first times in Philippine
history that the Malay Identity was truly celebrated in all aspects of
Filipino life. Government programs, cultural events, and even public
architecture all had to celebrate this newfound yet ancient identity
promoted by the Kilusang Bagong Lipunan or The New Society Movement.
Ako ay Pilipino. We're here, we're brown, get used to it. And it didn't
only show in the architecture, it showed in media as well. The mestiza
look of Rosa Rosal and Gloria Romero was out, and it was the morena
template of Alma Moreno and Gloria Diaz that became the "wet look" of
the moment. It was at this period that many "tisoys" ended up leaving
altogether, moving away and settling into happy
white-collared/white-colored existences in Australia or the United
States, the promise of a new start and identity beckoning them away
from their Philippine past.
Perhaps they lost their entitlement?
Overheard at a couturier: "Mestizos were never taught how to work.."
A
rather shocking statement but one that cannot be dismissed because it
really is a peek into the preconceived notions many Filipinos have
about their Hispanic counterparts. Myth number one. Spanish mestizos
are lazy. Myth number two. Spanish mestizos are all heirs with
endowments and assets. Both not necessarily true. Mestizos dicks have
never been bigger, they've only been whiter. Just as Spanish mestizos
have never been richer, they only seemed like they were. Perhaps this
sense of entitlement came about because historically, Spanish mestizos
have never really been part of the manual labor force. Occupations for
tisoys were pretty much white-collared and handed down to them as a
birthright; some careers even assured way before they were out of
diapers. For the rural mestizo, all he had to do was wait for harvest
season to come round and the income would almost generate itself. And
at the end of it all, when daddy died, the land - and workers on it -
were all his to possess. And for the urban mestizo, all he had to do
was depend upon Manila's old boy's club run by The Ateneo/La Salle/et
al alumnus association to assure them of the exact same jobs that their
fathers also toiled. But now, Spanish mestizo founded corporations like
Philippine Airlines, and San Miguel Corporation are out of their
original owners hands (The Todas for PAL, the Sorianos for SMC); and
now have to restructure themselves away to be competitive in the modern
world. Some tisoys found it harder to compete for that same job in a
system now based on merit than on who was their dad's fraternity
brother. And due to this, quite a few them decided to forego the hassle
of asserting himself and finding a new identity within this revamped
society, and instead take the alternate route of migrating into the
promise of a tabula rasa in cities like San Francisco or Sydney (See
the last part of previous paragraph).
Or maybe they just never wanted to be here in the first place:
Once told to my face: "Ay, Carlos. Mestizos. They're all liars."
The
most freaky of all the statements I've heard, but once again, perhaps
it rings true. Could it be that the Spanish mestizo, who never felt
neither at home in the Philippine archipelago nor in the Iberian
peninsula, could be cursed to roam the world never to find his stead?
Cursed to forever live in gated communities with all the insularities
it brings? After all, Inaki's family was so detached from the fact that
their family lived in a Southeast Asian country in the Pacific that
they even maintained their Spanish passports and spoke Spanish at the
dining table. His own mother would go out of her way to let everyone
now that their family was NOT to be considered part of the brown-ness
which surrounded them. She once commented about her other, darker
daughter-in-law: "Oye, Es guapa. Por una Filipina." ("She is pretty.
For a Filipina.") Aesthetically, The Ibaturraldes were known for their
fondness of bullfighting posters, ashtrays which said: "Fuma menos,
cono" (Smoke less, expletive meaning vagina), and for the blue and
white porcelain tile emblazoned with the words: "Dios Bendiga Cada
Rincon en Esta Casa" (Lord Bless Every Corner of This House) hanging
above their front door; mandatory household items for the
aspirationally Iberian. And with this lack of desire to integrate -
both culturally and aesthetically - perhaps we can say that the Spanish
mestizo doesn't want to be at home in the Philippines at all. He would
rather embrace the romantic notion of an Occidental Philippines that
cannot be, than to become part of the Oriental Philippines which exists
before him right now. And with this decision to deny the context which
surrounds oneself, comes the corresponding consequences: The insecurity
of never being accepted and the paranoia that someone out there is
always trying to get you. Time to build those walls again.
IT'S THE HACIENDA WORLD AS WE KNOW IT: THE DECLINE OF THE FILIPINO SPANISH MESTIZO AT THE DAWN OF THE MILLENIUM
Overheard in Alabang Town Center: "Shet, dude. I'm a cono kid daw. But that's ok."
Inaki
Ibaturralde seemed like he had it all. Young, tall, fair, and
good-looking, he was a Makati born, Alabang bred, English speaking,
Spanish swearing, mestizo of Basque descent. After his secondary
education in Manila's premier Opus Dei school, he spent his college
years in California, before taking the position of Senior Vice
President at his father's Ayala Avenue trading firm at the tender age
of twenty eight. In 2003, he married Chavelli Lazarriaga, another fair
skinned mestiza with an equally fair family name who worked in Manila's
fashion industry. They were wed in a highly publicized ceremony at the
San Antonio in Forbes Park and were expecting their second child by the
end of last year. Life couldn't seem any more charmed. They were the
"IT" couple of the Polo Club and Punta Fuego set; golden examples of
Manila's young "alta" society and the touchstone for couples in
Manila's millenium generation of de buena familia Spanish mestizos in
Dasmarinas Village and Ayala Alabang.
But
underneath this espadrille-wearing, tanned-while-jet-skiing-at-Tali
facade, something was amiss over at the hacienda, so to speak.
Apparently, Inaki had developed a taste for inhaling copious amounts of
cocaine. Not an easy habit to cultivate, mind you, as such imported
indulgences are mainly available through clandestine deals done in five
star hotel rooms at U$350.00 a pop as opposed to the Php1500.00
per-bag-on-the-street-corner deals for it's local "masa" counterpart,
"shabu" (Crystal Metamphetamine). And for the past few years, Inaki
miraculously managed to keep this sordid detail under wraps - from both
wife and family - until things started unravelling - and quite messily
at that - at home.
It was
only a year after his third wedding anniversary that Inaki started
acting out of sorts. Due to limited access to family bank accounts,
Inaki had resorted to "shabu" and the addiction had taken it's toll.
Inaki looked bloated and sweaty at business meetings and his habit of
locking himself into the downstairs den (sometimes for up to two days)
was something which began to concern his young wife. Nevertheless, his
habit remained overlooked - perhaps subconsciously - by those around
him until last Christmas eve when his mother's maid found drug
paraphernalia (crystal pipe and a roll of tinfoil) in the front seat of
his car while transferring Christmas presents to the tree. So after a
rather audible confrontation, Inaki was banished from his wife, family
and their digs above his mother's garage to fend for himself. Nothing
was heard of him until a month ago, when a segment on the evening news
revealed that Inaki had knifed a tricycle driver in United Paranaque
while in a frantic state of paranoia. Today, he sits in a
rehabilitation center in Bicutan, his wife now settled in the United
States with both children, far away from the scandal and shame. The
golden boy now tarnished in the eyes of the upper crust - an outcast
from the walls of his city.
Now
although the aforementioned is merely an extreme composite of
characters, sadly, Inaki's story is not a rare one one among the
families of Manila's todo insular, Royal Ambre scented crowd. His story
is that of a promise unfulfilled; a morality tale about the importance
of restraint and self-confidence and an image symbolic of the state of
Hispanic Filipinos the 21st century. It's a metaphor about his
ancestry, that of Spanish mestizos, also known as "tisoys" or "cono
kids" - a monicker derived from their habit of peppering conversations
with the aforementioned "c" word. They are a people that have lost
their footing in this world, and have no idea how to go about standing
up and finding it once again.
But
how did the "tisoy", once a proud, plentiful, and productive breed
found freely grazing and settling in the open districts of Ermita,
Malate, Pasay, and San Miguel, fall so far from the status that they
enjoyed in the Philippines for hundreds of years? From the 19th century
until the mid-seventies, the "tisoy" and his culture were ubiquitous to
the Philippine landscape. From the hallways of the country's
corporations to the billboards which trimmed our highways, the images
of Spanish mestizeria could be found managing multinational
corporations or modelling the latest fashions. Manning shop counters at
the Escolta, counting cash behind bank windows, or serving coffee in
the sky, mestizos and mestizas were everywhere. But in an amazingly
ironic turn of events, from being the dominant culture which the
populace yearned to emulate, they now find themselves marginalized and
struggling to find their position in a Filipinas that has decided to
fully embrace it's Asian roots in the twenty-first century. Just turn
on the television or watch a movie and the glaring irrelevance of the
mestizo will immediately stare back at you. Gone are the days of the
artista male romantic lead in the mold of Rogelio dela Rosa, Edu
Manzano, or Gabby Concepcion. Even mestizos de entresuelos (mestizong
bangus or quasi-mestizo mestizos) like Kuya Germs Moreno or Redford
White are also fast disappearing from the showbiz firmament. It's
obvious that the white skinned, aqualine nosed template has ceased to
be the pinnacle of male physical aspiration and in it's place we now
find the chinky charm of the late Rico Yan or the moreno mein of Piolo
Pascual. And instead of living near to their forefather's ancestral
lands near the walled city of Intramuros, Spanish mestizos now find
themselves commuting back and forth from the newer gated districts of
Makati, Paranaque, and Alabang. The displacement of their home and
their culture was a cruel fate that had crept up without warning. But
how did this come to be? Nobody can say for sure. One can only
hypothesize.
Perhaps it's because they lost their home?
Overheard at a tour from a guest: "These mestizos really liked their walled cities.."
It
was only when I heard this statement that I realized the concept of the
"gated community" is something that has always been integral to the
personality of Manila. The notion of a society that is "within" and one
that is "without" is still as prelevant today as it was in the times of
Jose Rizal. Just replace the subdivision security guards with the
guardia civil and the Household helpers ID/Community Tax Certificate
with the cedula and it's Noli Me Tangere with a cheaper wardrobe
budget. But although the system still remains, Intramuros - the city
where this system originated has been gone for over 61 years now,
destroyed in February of 1945. In a battle between the Japanese
Imperial army and the US Armed Forces at the close of World War II,
this 400-year old Spanish designed walled city, and the most overt
physical manifestation of Spain's influence in the Orient became the
central war theatre within the capital. After a month of heavy
fighting, this city made of coral, volcanic ash, and wood, inspired by
designs from France, Madrid, and England, was pummeled to dust; the
largest and only specimen of Spain's presence in Asia wiped off the
face of the earth. Most everything we see today, with the excepton of
San Agustin Church; is a post-war reconstruction. And not only was the
walled city obliterated; but the Spanish mestizo residential enclaves
of Ermita, Malate, Sampaloc, and Pasay were left in ashes, their fair
skinned residents massacred and buried in mass graves. Even the "tisoy"
commercial playground that was Escolta in Santa Cruz - a place so
patrician that salesgirls even had to speak Spanish - was reduced to
rubble. It was really after this period that slow migration of the
surviving mestizos began. Perhaps driven away by the bitter memories of
the war or by the encroaching displaced rural poor, they first wandered
off into the promised - and gated - land of Makati suburbia in the
1950's, then into newer, flashier digs in Ayala Alabang in the 1980's.
But for those mestizos who ended up in the more middle class spectrum
of the social ladder by the 1970's, there were the gates of Merville
and BF Homes to keep the sweaty toiling extramuros communities at bay.
Eventually,
with the coming of President Marcos, things would come to a head for
the mestizo. Although the martial law era can be perceived as
oppressive on one hand, it was also a period when a cohesive Malay
identity was established for the Filipino through the cultural efforts
of Marcos' New Society Movement. It the first times in Philippine
history that the Malay Identity was truly celebrated in all aspects of
Filipino life. Government programs, cultural events, and even public
architecture all had to celebrate this newfound yet ancient identity
promoted by the Kilusang Bagong Lipunan or The New Society Movement.
Ako ay Pilipino. We're here, we're brown, get used to it. And it didn't
only show in the architecture, it showed in media as well. The mestiza
look of Rosa Rosal and Gloria Romero was out, and it was the morena
template of Alma Moreno and Gloria Diaz that became the "wet look" of
the moment. It was at this period that many "tisoys" ended up leaving
altogether, moving away and settling into happy
white-collared/white-colored existences in Australia or the United
States, the promise of a new start and identity beckoning them away
from their Philippine past.
Perhaps they lost their entitlement?
Overheard at a couturier: "Mestizos were never taught how to work.."
A
rather shocking statement but one that cannot be dismissed because it
really is a peek into the preconceived notions many Filipinos have
about their Hispanic counterparts. Myth number one. Spanish mestizos
are lazy. Myth number two. Spanish mestizos are all heirs with
endowments and assets. Both not necessarily true. Mestizos dicks have
never been bigger, they've only been whiter. Just as Spanish mestizos
have never been richer, they only seemed like they were. Perhaps this
sense of entitlement came about because historically, Spanish mestizos
have never really been part of the manual labor force. Occupations for
tisoys were pretty much white-collared and handed down to them as a
birthright; some careers even assured way before they were out of
diapers. For the rural mestizo, all he had to do was wait for harvest
season to come round and the income would almost generate itself. And
at the end of it all, when daddy died, the land - and workers on it -
were all his to possess. And for the urban mestizo, all he had to do
was depend upon Manila's old boy's club run by The Ateneo/La Salle/et
al alumnus association to assure them of the exact same jobs that their
fathers also toiled. But now, Spanish mestizo founded corporations like
Philippine Airlines, and San Miguel Corporation are out of their
original owners hands (The Todas for PAL, the Sorianos for SMC); and
now have to restructure themselves away to be competitive in the modern
world. Some tisoys found it harder to compete for that same job in a
system now based on merit than on who was their dad's fraternity
brother. And due to this, quite a few them decided to forego the hassle
of asserting himself and finding a new identity within this revamped
society, and instead take the alternate route of migrating into the
promise of a tabula rasa in cities like San Francisco or Sydney (See
the last part of previous paragraph).
Or maybe they just never wanted to be here in the first place:
Once told to my face: "Ay, Carlos. Mestizos. They're all liars."
The
most freaky of all the statements I've heard, but once again, perhaps
it rings true. Could it be that the Spanish mestizo, who never felt
neither at home in the Philippine archipelago nor in the Iberian
peninsula, could be cursed to roam the world never to find his stead?
Cursed to forever live in gated communities with all the insularities
it brings? After all, Inaki's family was so detached from the fact that
their family lived in a Southeast Asian country in the Pacific that
they even maintained their Spanish passports and spoke Spanish at the
dining table. His own mother would go out of her way to let everyone
now that their family was NOT to be considered part of the brown-ness
which surrounded them. She once commented about her other, darker
daughter-in-law: "Oye, Es guapa. Por una Filipina." ("She is pretty.
For a Filipina.") Aesthetically, The Ibaturraldes were known for their
fondness of bullfighting posters, ashtrays which said: "Fuma menos,
cono" (Smoke less, expletive meaning vagina), and for the blue and
white porcelain tile emblazoned with the words: "Dios Bendiga Cada
Rincon en Esta Casa" (Lord Bless Every Corner of This House) hanging
above their front door; mandatory household items for the
aspirationally Iberian. And with this lack of desire to integrate -
both culturally and aesthetically - perhaps we can say that the Spanish
mestizo doesn't want to be at home in the Philippines at all. He would
rather embrace the romantic notion of an Occidental Philippines that
cannot be, than to become part of the Oriental Philippines which exists
before him right now. And with this decision to deny the context which
surrounds oneself, comes the corresponding consequences: The insecurity
of never being accepted and the paranoia that someone out there is
always trying to get you. Time to build those walls again.
Wednesday, 26 July 2006
Business and the beauty of the free market
I've been thinking a lot about what to seriously write/post about the
past few days. I've been wanting to post anything, but I just keep
running into this huge brick wall... mainly because I've had nothing to
draw from for the past couple of weeks... getting sick and stuck at
home does that to you, and you're mind starts to focus on just getting
positive and healthy, leaving out the mundane and irrelevant details,
even passively working, and concentrating more on the depth and
regularity of my breaths. Yep, asthma does that to you... makes you
think about breathing. hehehe.
So anyway. What's the root word of business? ... hmmm... breaking it
down, I think we'd end up with... Busy. As in... busy-ness. Which just
focuses on the whole point of business. Keeping busy, in order to find,
seek and take advantage of opportunities to produce and make a profit.
Simply put, you have to keep scanning the market, moving, sensing
opportunities, and preparing yourself for them. Not only that, you have
to be building contacts and partners, with whom to transact/exchange
information, products, services, goods or money.
Around 3 weeks ago, I was having my sister's car fixed in Alabang,
trying to get everything running in tip-top shape. Of course normally,
you'd have to properly canvas and look around first. Get busy. Do your
business due diligence by looking for the best product/service at the
best price point.
But, because I was swamped with things-to-do. I short-circuited the
process and went straight to just one dealer. Who, on retrospect, got
the best of me, because I did not look at other alternatives. The irony
is, my dad trusts this guy, and yet he abused this and made a killing
on me. I feel really bad because I know I should have looked around
more and studied all my options, but when you're pressed for time, or
enamored with the product, logic and due process are hi-jacked.
I ended up overspending for the repair/maintenance/upgrade. Something I
now look at as my tuition fee, in learning about the beauty of the free
market:
1. Information is the best currency... whoever has it, has the leverage.
2. Best deals go to the ones who keep looking. You
will always find a better value. Its just a matter of whether or not
you're willing to pay for whatever is in front of you right
now.
3. When in doubt, or when the seller refuses to meet
halfway,you always have the choice to take your business elsewhere.
That's the beauty of the system. Kung ayaw, di huwag!
4. Don't take it personally. Everyone acts and
behaves in his or her own best interests. So if you get screwed, it
just means you didn't do your job and look further.
Now, go back to the top and read through the post. Don't you think that
all of it can also relate to our relationships? (romantic and otherwise)
Monday, 24 July 2006
Daughters by John Mayer
I know a girl
She puts the color inside of my world
But she's just like a maze
Where all of the walls all continually change
And I've done all I can
To stand on her steps with my heart in my hands
Now I'm starting to see
Maybe it's got nothing to do with me
Fathers, be good to your daughters
Daughters will love like you do
Girls become lovers who turn into mothers
So mothers, be good to your daughters too
Oh, you see that skin?
It's the same she's been standing in
Since the day she saw him walking away
Now she's left
Cleaning up the mess he made
So fathers, be good to your daughters
Daughters will love like you do
Girls become lovers who turn into mothers
So mothers, be good to your daughters too
Boys, you can break
You'll find out how much they can take
Boys will be strong
And boys soldier on
But boys would be gone without the warmth from
A womans good, good heart
On behalf of every man
Looking out for every girl
You are the god and the weight of her world
So fathers, be good to your daughters
Daughters will love like you do
Girls become lovers who turn into mothers
So mothers, be good to your daughters too
She puts the color inside of my world
But she's just like a maze
Where all of the walls all continually change
And I've done all I can
To stand on her steps with my heart in my hands
Now I'm starting to see
Maybe it's got nothing to do with me
Fathers, be good to your daughters
Daughters will love like you do
Girls become lovers who turn into mothers
So mothers, be good to your daughters too
Oh, you see that skin?
It's the same she's been standing in
Since the day she saw him walking away
Now she's left
Cleaning up the mess he made
So fathers, be good to your daughters
Daughters will love like you do
Girls become lovers who turn into mothers
So mothers, be good to your daughters too
Boys, you can break
You'll find out how much they can take
Boys will be strong
And boys soldier on
But boys would be gone without the warmth from
A womans good, good heart
On behalf of every man
Looking out for every girl
You are the god and the weight of her world
So fathers, be good to your daughters
Daughters will love like you do
Girls become lovers who turn into mothers
So mothers, be good to your daughters too
Wednesday, 5 July 2006
Random Shots and NUS, Board Exam update
To break my string of pensive posts...
I just saw Superman the other day... It was pretty good:
1. Why is it that men always leave yet hold on; while women get left behind and move on?
2. The father-son theme got me really mushed up...
especially the kid's bedroom scene... hehehe... I'm an
emotional wreck when it comes to these things.
3. I saw a lot of father-son pairings watch the
movie. I was intent on looking at their reactions... haha I saw a lot
of teary/watery eyes.
4. Despite the fanfare, Spiderman still outgrossed
Superman in opening weekend receipts. Maybe because of the Independence
day celebrations in the US, or maybe because people want their heroes
to be flawed, not too perfect like superman.
5. I think Kent/Superman/Brandon Routh is too clean
hehehe... maybe DC comics should come up with a superman that looks
like Wolverine?
6. I think the kid might have had something to do with the seaplane climbing back.
7. Kate Bosworth = elegante... but thoroughly blind to not see Kent as Superman
Yesterday we briefed one of the consultants we might be hiring for a
project, and I must say that this architect is Dominique Frankon
personified. She is one dainty, elegant and extremely classy woman...
but then again, thats just on the first encounter. I'm sure there's a
flipside.
On another note...
My application for the NUS scholarship was unsuccesful. Although the school did admit me to the MA Urban Design program,
which is something that I could be happy with. I decided to have my
admission deferred by a year so that I could finish off some of my
remaining career/life gaps. First of which would have to be my boards
(which unfortunately, I can only take June next year, instead of the
earlier January exam... pahirap na board ruling yan!) next, but prior
to the boards would have to be my (3 month) training under RMJM - Hong Kong,
which I hope would finally push through this september, after several
months of waiting and rescheduling because of Dubai's arcane work
regulations.
I figure, it will be better for me to fill in these gaps (and a lot of
other small ones) before I leave for Singapore. Also, I figure, there
may be other things that pop up for me in that period, and I'm praying,
keeping my hopes up, while I keep my head down and focused on the job.
I just saw Superman the other day... It was pretty good:
1. Why is it that men always leave yet hold on; while women get left behind and move on?
2. The father-son theme got me really mushed up...
especially the kid's bedroom scene... hehehe... I'm an
emotional wreck when it comes to these things.
3. I saw a lot of father-son pairings watch the
movie. I was intent on looking at their reactions... haha I saw a lot
of teary/watery eyes.
4. Despite the fanfare, Spiderman still outgrossed
Superman in opening weekend receipts. Maybe because of the Independence
day celebrations in the US, or maybe because people want their heroes
to be flawed, not too perfect like superman.
5. I think Kent/Superman/Brandon Routh is too clean
hehehe... maybe DC comics should come up with a superman that looks
like Wolverine?
6. I think the kid might have had something to do with the seaplane climbing back.
7. Kate Bosworth = elegante... but thoroughly blind to not see Kent as Superman
Yesterday we briefed one of the consultants we might be hiring for a
project, and I must say that this architect is Dominique Frankon
personified. She is one dainty, elegant and extremely classy woman...
but then again, thats just on the first encounter. I'm sure there's a
flipside.
On another note...
My application for the NUS scholarship was unsuccesful. Although the school did admit me to the MA Urban Design program,
which is something that I could be happy with. I decided to have my
admission deferred by a year so that I could finish off some of my
remaining career/life gaps. First of which would have to be my boards
(which unfortunately, I can only take June next year, instead of the
earlier January exam... pahirap na board ruling yan!) next, but prior
to the boards would have to be my (3 month) training under RMJM - Hong Kong,
which I hope would finally push through this september, after several
months of waiting and rescheduling because of Dubai's arcane work
regulations.
I figure, it will be better for me to fill in these gaps (and a lot of
other small ones) before I leave for Singapore. Also, I figure, there
may be other things that pop up for me in that period, and I'm praying,
keeping my hopes up, while I keep my head down and focused on the job.
Waiting on the world to change - John Mayer
me and all my friends
we're all misunderstood
they say we stand for nothing and
there's no way we ever could
now we see everything that's going wrong
with the world and those who lead it
we just feel like we don't have the means
to rise above and beat it
so we keep waiting
waiting on the world to change
we keep on waiting
waiting on the world to change
it's hard to beat the system
when we're standing at a distance
so we keep waiting
waiting on the world to change
now if we had the power
to bring our neighbors home from war
they would have never missed a Christmas
no more ribbons on their door
and when you trust your television
what you get is what you got
cause when they own the information, oh
they can bend it all they want
that's why we're waiting
waiting on the world to change
we keep on waiting
waiting on the world to change
it's not that we don't care,
we just know that the fight ain't fair
so we keep on waiting
waiting on the world to change
and we're still waiting
waiting on the world to change
we keep on waiting waiting on the world to change
one day our generation
is gonna rule the population
so we keep on waiting
waiting on the world to change
we keep on waiting
waiting on the world to change
Sometimes the best place to change things is from the inside.
I'm waiting, but I'm pushing too.
we're all misunderstood
they say we stand for nothing and
there's no way we ever could
now we see everything that's going wrong
with the world and those who lead it
we just feel like we don't have the means
to rise above and beat it
so we keep waiting
waiting on the world to change
we keep on waiting
waiting on the world to change
it's hard to beat the system
when we're standing at a distance
so we keep waiting
waiting on the world to change
now if we had the power
to bring our neighbors home from war
they would have never missed a Christmas
no more ribbons on their door
and when you trust your television
what you get is what you got
cause when they own the information, oh
they can bend it all they want
that's why we're waiting
waiting on the world to change
we keep on waiting
waiting on the world to change
it's not that we don't care,
we just know that the fight ain't fair
so we keep on waiting
waiting on the world to change
and we're still waiting
waiting on the world to change
we keep on waiting waiting on the world to change
one day our generation
is gonna rule the population
so we keep on waiting
waiting on the world to change
we keep on waiting
waiting on the world to change
Sometimes the best place to change things is from the inside.
I'm waiting, but I'm pushing too.
Wednesday, 28 June 2006
Stuck on the taxiway...
Well as Mick Jagger says...
You can't always get what you want;
But maybe you just might find;
You get what you need.
True indeed.
But everything happens for a reason;
and in the grand scheme of things
I'm sure it all fits together.
It can be very humbling when you
end up making decisions based on
incomplete and flawed assumptions
and great expectations.
Kung ano lang yung tama,
kung ano yung dapat;
at kung ano lang yung nasa plano.
Yun lang din ang mangyayari.
You can't always get what you want;
But maybe you just might find;
You get what you need.
True indeed.
But everything happens for a reason;
and in the grand scheme of things
I'm sure it all fits together.
It can be very humbling when you
end up making decisions based on
incomplete and flawed assumptions
and great expectations.
Kung ano lang yung tama,
kung ano yung dapat;
at kung ano lang yung nasa plano.
Yun lang din ang mangyayari.
Monday, 19 June 2006
Why I do what I do, and why I love it too...
Thanks to my mom, I was lucky to travel and fly to different countries
at a very early age. Nothing beats the build-up of anticipation
and excitement while waiting at the NAIA departure lounge for boarding.
I would baon a steno notebook, pencils and crayons and draw the planes
I see on the tarmac. Later on I would look them up on the in-flight
magazines and list down the plane's specifics... length, wingspan, max
speed, etc.
During that time, most of my classmates were drawing the Ninja Turtles
or the X-men, or the Dragonball-Z characters, while there I was
drawing tubes with rows of holes along their sides, wings, fins
and clouds. As I got older, my drawings got better, they were pretty
decent, except for the clouds... because I figure I couldn't really
draw a cloud because clouds don't really hold a shape.
I still remember my first plane ride, it was a trip to San Francisco,
and because my mom was an airline employee and we were flying on
standby and were forced to ride on the flight attendant jumpseats. I
still remember the wonder and awe I felt as a kid as the lumbering
747-200 took off. I remember asking my mom about how the plane flew,
and her answer was... "Its designed to fly, anak."
As I got to late grade school, I figured that it would be great to be a
pilot, but I wasn't so sure about being a driver for huge amounts of
people, bringing them to places they've probably never been before, but
driver nonetheless. (No disrespect to pilots) Besides, I dont have
a very good set of eyes, and back then I couldn't swim well (hanggang
ngayon naman). So I decided I wanted to be an Aircraft
Designer/Aeronautical Engineer instead.
With that decision, I was pretty confident, but then I started asking
my elders on how to go about it. What course will I have to apply for
in college? What college? What companies I could work for? That sort of
thing. But as the answers came, it became more apparent that its a dead
end for me, at least locally... the prospects for that field weren't as
promising as I would have wanted.
On the side, the burgeoning nerd in me, started to dabble into
computers, starting with batch files, dos, windows and BASIC. When I
ran into my good friend JM, my learning curve suddenly got accelerated,
with the two of us coding in Pascal, some C, eventually Visual Basic,
and some really shallow Assembly. It was fun, because, I could actually
make the computer do something, it empowered me and showed me that I
could do something that a lot of my peers couldn't. But its the same
empowerment that kinda made me a geek/nerd, albeit a really
unprototypical version of one.
As I hit seventh grade (a waste of time by the way...) my dad (who's a
practicing architect) suggested... "Anak, you're into computers, why
don't you study AutoCAD?" and I did take the idea up. It was all fun for
me, because it was just like programming, I was able to do something
on-screen that not very many people back then could. (Case-in-point,
AutoCAD was still on release 11 back then, now its already dropped the
release numbers, but if you count the versions, its already at release
19).
So that summer, I learned CAD, and immediately after, joined the
office, where I was a saling-pusang draftsman/encoder. I was doing a
set of marketing plans, when my dad came over and asked me if I wanted
to join him on-site to check the building. I said, sure, why not? As we
got down the car and enterred the construction site, which was a
prototypical ballet of debris, noise, cranes and workers; he lead me to
the floor I was drawing on CAD and showed me the walls that I was
encoding.
I came closer and touched the walls. And right then I felt the
creator's high. The rush of adrenalin brought about by knowing that you
had a hand in building and making that thing real. I thought to myself,
if this is how I feel touching a wall that my dad thought of, I wonder
how it would feel if I was already touching something I designed?
Thats the moment. when and where I decided to be an architect.
Not a far cry from a programmer, except that I'm no longer creating
things on the screen, but designing real, tangible, usable structures.
Nor very different from a pilot, making heavy things float and soar up
to the sky, while at the same time bringing people to places they've
never been to.
That's why I do what I do.
I'm at a crossroads, and I hope and pray everything falls into place.
Lord, Your Will Be Done!
Tuesday, 13 June 2006
Monday, 12 June 2006
Thursday, 8 June 2006
Always on your side - Sheryl Crow and Sting
My yesterdays are all boxed up and neatly put away
But every now and then you come to mind
Cause you were always waiting to be picked to play the game
But when your name was called, you found a place to hide
When you knew that I was always on your side
Well everything was easy then, so sweet and innocent
my demons and my angels reappeared
Leavin' only traces of the man you thought I'd be
Too afraid to hear the words i always fear
leaving you with only questions all these years
Is there someplace far away, someplace where all is clear
Easy to start over with the ones you hold so dear
Or are you left to wander, all alone, eternally
This isn't how it's really meant to be
No it isn't how it's really meant to be
Well they say that love is in the air, but never is it clear,
How to pull it close and make it stay
Butterflies are free to fly, and so they fly away
And I'm left to carry on and wonder why
Even through it all, I'm always on your side
But is there someplace far away, someplace where all is clear
Easy to start over with the ones you hold so dear
Or are you left to wander, all alone, eternally
But this isn't how it's really meant to be
Oh it isn't how it's really meant to be
Well if they say that love is in the air, never is it clear
How to pull it close and make it stay
If butterflies are free to fly, why do they fly away
Leavin' me to carry on and wonder why
Was it you that kept me wondering through this life
When you know that I was always on your side
But every now and then you come to mind
Cause you were always waiting to be picked to play the game
But when your name was called, you found a place to hide
When you knew that I was always on your side
Well everything was easy then, so sweet and innocent
my demons and my angels reappeared
Leavin' only traces of the man you thought I'd be
Too afraid to hear the words i always fear
leaving you with only questions all these years
Is there someplace far away, someplace where all is clear
Easy to start over with the ones you hold so dear
Or are you left to wander, all alone, eternally
This isn't how it's really meant to be
No it isn't how it's really meant to be
Well they say that love is in the air, but never is it clear,
How to pull it close and make it stay
Butterflies are free to fly, and so they fly away
And I'm left to carry on and wonder why
Even through it all, I'm always on your side
But is there someplace far away, someplace where all is clear
Easy to start over with the ones you hold so dear
Or are you left to wander, all alone, eternally
But this isn't how it's really meant to be
Oh it isn't how it's really meant to be
Well if they say that love is in the air, never is it clear
How to pull it close and make it stay
If butterflies are free to fly, why do they fly away
Leavin' me to carry on and wonder why
Was it you that kept me wondering through this life
When you know that I was always on your side
Friday, 2 June 2006
Ready
For every nameless
and faceless
fond memory
I smile and ask
why did I have to
practice and learn
from you?
Why did I have to
stumble through
each moment?
and fumble my way
around so many
awkward silences,
stutter or articulately
say the wrong things?
Be shackled by
circumstance,
beaten by others
and by myself?
When all I ever
wanted was for
it to be good,
great, and perfect?
Each nameless void
brings her lessons
to bear onto my
consciousness,
each one God's
teacher, weaving
steel into my fabric.
For the faceless
and nameless,
known or unknown,
you stalk me
from the rooms
and the sidewalks.
as I wind through
the crowd and
soldier on.
I know its the same
for each of these
voids, and so it will
be for her.
At some point,
all the scarring
lessons will not
be for
naught.
For without these,
both would never
be ready for the
other.
Until that point,
may you continue
to grow and
be what God
meant you to be.
And when we finally
cross, I guarantee
I'll be ready.
and faceless
fond memory
I smile and ask
why did I have to
practice and learn
from you?
Why did I have to
stumble through
each moment?
and fumble my way
around so many
awkward silences,
stutter or articulately
say the wrong things?
Be shackled by
circumstance,
beaten by others
and by myself?
When all I ever
wanted was for
it to be good,
great, and perfect?
Each nameless void
brings her lessons
to bear onto my
consciousness,
each one God's
teacher, weaving
steel into my fabric.
For the faceless
and nameless,
known or unknown,
you stalk me
from the rooms
and the sidewalks.
as I wind through
the crowd and
soldier on.
I know its the same
for each of these
voids, and so it will
be for her.
At some point,
all the scarring
lessons will not
be for
naught.
For without these,
both would never
be ready for the
other.
Until that point,
may you continue
to grow and
be what God
meant you to be.
And when we finally
cross, I guarantee
I'll be ready.
Wednesday, 31 May 2006
Workplace romance, Extinction of the Boy/Girl-next-door, Acting my age and counter-culture
I've been searching for topics to post about, but I can't seem to come
up with something coherent/unified. I'll just try to stitch some random
thoughts together:
1. I was walking in Glorietta one day (just as every day) on my
way to my only employee perk... free parking... I decided to stray from
my usual route and browse around one of the bookstores. I saw a very
familiar-looking girl, with a very familiar-looking guy tagging along
with her. And being a visual person, I'm pretty sure I've seen her
(hehe I tend to remember aesthetic landmarks). So anyway, I was trying
to recall where I saw them before, and they saw me glancing, and
immediately they quickly bowed their heads and walked out of the store.
Hmmm... that's odd! This afternoon, while I was lined up at the bank to
do some routine transfers and payments, lo and behold... The girl
happens to be one of the tellers that served me before, and the guy...
the bank manager. Hahahaha No Wonder!
Tapos, tugma pa na I ended up going to her station for my transaction.
She was smiling and whispered good afternoon sir... tapos... she
said... quiet lang po kayo ah!
Sure! no problem!
2. One of the daily problems that plague Manilenos, and virtually every
suburbanite in the world is the daily commute. It fractures your sense
of community with your immediate neighborhood, to the extent that you
may end up knowing more people at school or work than in your own
block. So what does this mean... the boy/girl next door is actually no
longer next door... but in the next suburb. Or heck, the opposite side
of the metro.
3. What is it with people? I've been meeting a couple of new faces and
they usually end up saying that they think I'm around 28-32 years old?!
Maybe its the glasses, my disposition, the barong? Whatever it is, I
think its a good thing that I end up surprising quite a few people when
they find out na may pagka-sira-ulo/kengkoy din pala ako.
4. Now... to another slightly related topic... age and lifestyle. Yes,
at times I don't act my age. Maybe because I'm used to being surrounded
with people older and more serious than me. Or maybe because I've found something to be genuinely happy and passionate about.
Yeah sure I enjoy the beach and going out and hanging out with friends,
but my life doesn't revolve solely around these. Someone asked me, how
come you don't post more fun things on your blog? Well... pardon me, I
can, I have a few crazy things to write about and a few pix showing
several indiscretions to post, pero how would that set me apart
from everyone else? If you go blog-hopping... everyone tries to paint a
picture of their lives as one huge beach party. But seriously? Ganun
nga ba talaga?
I think that a lot of people have been enamored by media, movies and
pop-culture, that if you're not doing something bohemian or artsy, or
being care-free/adventurous, or making crazy love... you're not having
a life. Oo nga naman, you can't sell stories talking about the true
nitty-gritty of life... you know... making ends meet, doing your
laundry, solving problems, raising a family, etc. Its not cool! People
don't want to see their problems on screen.
Call me baduy or corny, I think I'm blessed, because I don't have to go
to great lengths just to say that I'm having a great time. Siguro nga
mababaw ang kaligayahan ko. I'm a meat-and-potatoes, or in a local
context... ulam-and-kanin kind of a guy. And I believe at thats what
matters. And thats what gets things done. An even keel gets you where
you need to go.
Everyone goes gaga over the rebel/bad-boy/artsy/bohemian girl, but if
everyone is trying to be a hip/bohemian/rebel, doesn't that redefine it
as the new status-quo? Then what sets you from everyone else? I'm all
for pluralism and individualism... but you set yourself apart by
emphasizing your core. Not by adopting what everyone else is doing.
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