Scenes from the Sumilao March: San Beda Church

Scenes from the Sumilao March: Paco Catholic School Church

somehow, the blue skies framing the tall spires reminded me of some italian scenery...

for cheenee! imong pics with r friends from sumilao

i-grab na lang cheen,,

Bonding with the Family @ the beach

**sistah, na-miss ka namin!! kayo na lang ni cris ang kulang...

in need of a good story

My father isn't a good storyteller.

Which is why i could never figure how, even after all these years, i can still vividly remember the stories he told me when i was much younger.

Dad had this annoying habit of leaving stories unfinished. Most of the time, he would fall asleep even before he could finish. He would be right in the middle of a tale and then--the familiar silence and the subsequent snore. Whenever he fell asleep, Dad was impervious to my persistent efforts at waking him up and making him continue with his story.

Because of this, Dad often told stories in random fragments which you had to re-arrange in order to build a plot. He would talk about his own Tatay, my grandfather, who fought during the Korean War.

Then he would fall asleep.

The next chance I get to listen to him, he would be talking about his own grandmother and how she had this "anting-anting" that made her invisible to the Japanese.

Then he would fall asleep.

By the next episode, he would be telling me about his own Nanay, my grandmother, and how she saw a "tiyanak" eating a ripe mango.

Then he would fall asleep.

Again.

In spite of protracted plots that spanned several incongruous segments, I was captivated by Dad's stories. While I knew, even at that young age, that some of his tales were rather incredible, I listened attentively and pretended that I believed in every detail he mentioned. Tiyanak and anting-anting notwithstanding.

Dad's narrative style was not spectacular. In fact, he narrated stories if he were merely suggesting and providing simple captions for the images in my mind. He couldn't really paint scenes with words. He wasn't poetic nor dramatic. He spoke plainly, and yet, somehow, he stirred my imagination. I don't know how he did that.

Even now, Dad still isn't a good storyteller.

Though he doesn't fall asleep anymore with his own stories, he already fumbles with his sentences and has developed an even more terrible sense of plot flow and timing.

But when he tries to tell me a story, I listen.

And I don't know how he does that.

talon ng daranak

Riverbanks

dito napadpad habang hinahanap ang pinanggagalingan ng usok-barbecue!

Kikay Bears

experimenting with stop animation.
avon ad kuno. hehehe.
frame by frame,,

meteor shower: Geminid 2007

"Uy, shooting star!!!"
"Saan?"
"Ayun, meron ulit! Yehey!"
"Mag-wish ka na!"
"Ha?! Wala nang shooting star.."

So there we were, all seven of us, on the viewdeck, having a conversation about swimming pools and sembreak plans, when suddenly, we were interrupted by shooting stars.

I didn't even know that there was going to be a Geminid meteor shower that night.

I craned my neck upwards just to catch a glimpse of that elusive heavenly display.

Nothing.

After a short while, i saw three shooting stars successively streaking through the starry night sky. We were all applauding and hooting like giddy children as the meteors vaporized into thin air.

"Mag-wish ka na," Bernie said to RC. Somehow, everyone on the viewdeck made a wish.

I didn't.

Not because I didn't want to but because I didn't know how. When do you actually start making a wish? Do you make it before, during, or after the meteor makes its dash across the sky? I have long asked that question but I haven't really seriously asked anyone about it.

If you make a wish before you actually see one, would that count? Shooting stars could be so elusive, you could have kept wishing and wishing and end up not seeing a single one at all.

Suppose you make a wish as soon as it appears. I tried that many times, with precision and timing, but I often fail to complete the "wish" since the shooting star would have already burnt itself up completely.

Now, wouldn't making a wish after you've seen one, make the whole point of wishing on a shooting star pointless, since you would be wishing on something which has already disappeared?

Anyway, I still wonder about how to do the "wishing on a shooting star" properly. hehe.

by the way, I ended up with six sightings that night.

Oh, and after that, I looked up one of my old notebooks and found an old poem (in Filipino) which I wrote after the Leonid shower in 2002:

LEONIDS 2002

mamaya
aabangan ko
ang pag-ambon
ng mga kwitis-langit.

maglalatag ako
ng banig
at ako'y titingala,
nganganga,
at maghihintay
ng grasya
mula sa itaas.

gusto ko kasing makatikim
ng nagbabagang bato,
tulad ni Isaias,
nang maranasan ko
kung papaano
mag-dilang anghel.

Ascension Youth Choir Outing

Daranak Falls

sa mga AYC,
ayan, na-post ko na rin sa wakas! download nyo na. =)

ascension chapel, payatas, qc

Join the Sumilao March on December 14 [postponed and moved to dec 17]

took this shot of the Cardinal welcoming one of the farmers.

Join March to Malacanang this Friday, December 14. 730AM. DAR.

others shots were taken during the mass at the gesu..

*Text message from Javy Alpasa, SJ:
POSTPONED big church procesn 2 escort sumilao farmers2 Malacanan to Dec 17 mon 530am asembly at DAR bec PGMA agrid 2 personaly mit farmers monday pls pass

Gesu nightshots

for posterity's sake. circa 2007.

bakit lagi akong na-e-LSS

"so far away...doesn't anybody stay in one place anymore..."

it must be echoing some deep-set sentiment, this song. bamboo's rendition gets to me when i listen to it. some old songs have that effect. you play them and they transport you back in time when that same song had some meaning to you. i'm not sure though what meaning it had for me for that hypothetical "then".

i grew up listening to "high school life" and "don't cry for me, argentina". i listened to these songs, brimming with emotions, profound feelings that surely a four or seven year old would not have understood. yet, i recall moments when i actually shed tears listening to Sharon Cuneta wax about high school when i haven't even reached grade one!

songs follow a logic of their own. so does the heart, as Pascal reminds us. it's quite a miracle when you have lyrics that perfectly match the melody. both these elements intertwine inextricably. you forcibly take one out and the song dies.

miracles also happen when you have songs that fill the gaps in your consciousness. these gaps are often the things you haven't really figured out that much. it cries out silently. it screams mutely. only the song soothes. only the melody assures.

and you just quietly sing along...

So far away
Doesn't anybody stay in one place anymore
It would be so fine to see your face at my door
Doesn't help to know that you're just time away

Long ago I reached for you and there you stood
Holding you again could only do me good
How I wish I could, but you're so far away

One more song about movin' along the highway
Can't say much of anything that's new
If I could only work this life out my way
I'd rather spend it bein' close to you

But you're so far away
Doesn't anybody stay in one place anymore
It would be so fine to see your face at my door
Doesn't help to know you're so far away

Travelin' around sure gets me down and lonely
Nothin' else to do but close my mind
I sure hope the road don't come to own me
But there's so many dreams I've yet to find

But you're so far away
Doesn't anybody stay in one place anymore
It would be so fine to see your face at my door
And it doesn't help to know you're so far away

i thought i was already going to sleep...

i'm going to sleep.

that's what i thought, at least, an hour and a half ago. there were times when i could actually fall asleep before midnight, and that didn't take much of an effort. all i had to do was lie down and i would just drift off into unconsciousness. exhaustion needs no motivation.

when i was younger, several thoughts would preoccupy me before i went to sleep. on certain nights, i would be thinking about a person. on other nights, i would be reviewing an event in my mind and fantasizing about possible scenarios. and then, there would be those nights when i'd feel troubled or dissatisfied. is it possible that someone tends to think a lot when one is actually lonely or sad? i remember what mr.calasanz said in my advanced phenomenology class. when you're happy, you don't really think much about "life". back then, that remark struck me. it seems that people who use their heads too much end up lonelier than most people. or is it because they are lonelier, in the first place, that they end up thinking too much?

i'm not really sure how i'd answer that. i used to think too much. but i didn't really think much about great ideas or great problems. mostly, i thought about the trivialities of my own life and my relationships with other people. really, i barely thought about what others really thought; instead, i thought about what i think others might be thinking about me. i have picked up from somewhere that all thinking is reflexive. somehow, whether you think about others in general, or about a particular person, everything refers back to you.

maybe that's why thinking is a lonely enterprise that produces an even lonelier outcome. while you may seemingly have "objects" of your own thought, the "objects" reveal more of the subject that thinks about it. in the end, you just end up with more of your own self, which is not really a bad thing.

maybe socrates might have meant it differently. while i believe that the unexamined life is not worth living, the overly examined life may not be worthily called a life at all.

hypertension

(the photo has no relation whatsoever to this entry. i just felt that i needed to comfort myself with pleasant memories of my sembreak vacation. hehe)

150/100.
no, they're not test scores. nor eyesight measurements.
lately, i've been trading blood pressure stats with some of the scholastics. there has been an outbreak of hypertension diagnoses, ever since I got a 140/100 a month ago. when my hypertensive condition was detected last month, some of the scholastics decided to have their bps checked as well, only to discover that i wasn't the only one with these fairly high stats.

earlier this evening, as we were trading jokes outside the oratory, I suddenly felt something snap in my nape. it triggered a sharp pinching kind of pain, and i immediately thought that it might have something to do with my blood pressure. ij and jhaw then told me to go to the infirmary to have myself checked since by that time i was already breaking into cold sweat. when we went to the infirmary, one of the nurses took my bp and informed me that my current stat was 150/100. of course, i became even more nervous. i didn't want to get sick again because it's so depressing to be confined to a room and find yourself suddenly incapable of doing the things you often take for granted.

Thanks to but unlike Wordsworth, i call these moments of utter vulnerability and helplessness, my intimations of mortality. i'm still young and being sick like this makes death less of a possibility; instead it becomes as real as my own Damocles' sword. I know death would eventually come but its own random timing scares me. My situation reminds me of Heidegger's insight on being-towards-death. my most individual and extreme possibility is death. no one can experience death for me. i alone will experience it. it is what individuates me and at the same time, unites me with everyone else.

Heidegger cautions against inauthentic living--a kind of living that denies this mortal destiny. and yet, here i am, afraid of dying as if i am not going to die at all. on second thought, maybe it's not death i'm afraid of, maybe it's the pain that comes with sickness. in my case, the physical pain is only secondary. the pain of being incapacitated is even more painful, i think. to be fully conscious and yet unable to to act out one's conscious thoughts, i surmise, must be a really painful experience.

yet maybe, these kinds of pain are birth pangs of an emergent spirituality. recognizing my own limitedness can be a real blow to my ego. but perhaps, after the self that i had been holding on to has been shattered, when the dust of confusion settles, i would begin to see myself and my life more clearly. i am not in control. i am merely clay in the potter's hand.

talon set

dahil gusto ko lang i-test yung slow shutter, nakalimutan ko tuloy na mas masarap magtampisaw sa tubig,, ganda kasi parang pang-wow philippines... tulad nung isang album, tinatamad na naman akong pumili ng pics. kaya upload na lang lahat..

Loyola School of Theology at Dusk

post-sunday apostolate. bit exhausted. needed some "fresh" air. took a walk along the "Titanic" and took some shots of LST's landmark,, since picking the pics i like would be more tedious, i just posted them all--wholesale.

btw, if you guys could help pick out the shots that are worth keeping, help me trim down the set. my HD is already getting bloated,,

cognitive bias

i chanced upon an article in Time (or was it Newsweek?) that explored the psychology of the human mind and the experience of the paranormal. according to that article, the mind had a propensity to fill in the gaps, to make sense of patterns, to find "figures in the shadows", so to speak. to some extent, it was like saying that imagination--even the quest for meaning--was hardwired into our physiology.

i just had a similar experience of pattern-recognition. as i was reading through etty hillesum's "an interrupted life", i began to recognize the particular genre of literature that has molded my mindset. i think i have a predilection for mystico-existentialist literature. i have googled my memory for the authors who have been my personal mentors--rilke, heidegger, frankl, clarke, dostoevsky, thoreau--and i begin to see coincidences that are meaningful.

well, this is not really a big deal for most people. but this fills me with strange delight and i just feel like i have to record this.

Scenes from Mt Gulugod Baboy, Batangas

mountaineering again. in spite of hypertension.





mountaineering again. in spite of hypertension.

Villa @ the former leper colony island of Culion

spent three days in culion for the sembreak villa.

'Fisherfolk' exposure

naisipan ko lang kunan ng litrato yung mga mandaragat. naalala ko kasi si hemingway.

Villa Time @ Coron, Palawan

2nd day of our villa. went swimming in the twin lakes and in cayangan lake.

My Bro: Darwin

darwin is my adopted brother. he has cerebral palsy. half of his body is paralyzed. he can't walk, talk but he can communicate using hand signals which we had taught him before. oh and yes, he can smile. he's one of my inspirations.

this album will mostly be pics of darwin.






darwin is my adopted brother. he was abandoned by his foster family even before he turned a year old. we found him in one of the DSWD centers when he was still a baby. and we borrowed him so that we he could celebrate his 1st bday. we never thought of returning him since. now, darwin is already 14 years old.

darwin has cerebral palsy. half of his body is paralyzed. he can't walk and talk but he can communicate using hand signals which we had taught him before. oh and yes, he can smile. he's one of my inspirations.

since he gets excited over being photographed, i'll post his pics on this album.

Our Tanay Restkubo @ Night

i took these pics during my dad's bday...

ATSCA retreat

tribute to fr bill kreutz, sj

a video i made as part of the ateneo de zamboanga high school's tribute for fr bill kreutz, sj

Road tripping

pa-pikchur-pikchur ng mga eksenang napapansin habang naglalamyerda...

Mga Bulaklak sa Bahay Namin

took some random shots of some of the flowers in our Tanay restkubo...
no post-prod this time. testing the kit lens...

iPod + iTunes ad - Mandolin

design and motion by LOGAN, again...

Toyota Chair Commercial: Meet

from one of the coolest post-prod agencies, LOGAN. like wolverine-logan.

i wanna make videos like LOGAN!

Ogie-Wan Kenobi

my childhood fantasy. becoming a jedi..
lightsaber effects done in ae cs3.

SMB

*snicker*

Tiddy Bear - Funny Infomercial

tiddy bear? i'm getting one of these.. hahaha

Newest PSP ad

i wouldn't want to be caught in the same CR as this dude.

Sony Bravia

colours. how brit.

Sharapova - Nike Commercial 'I feel pretty'

ouch!

Test submissions for VocProm posters

series of panels on Mission, Spirituality, and Community.
so far, 4 out of 6 pa lang natatapos ko.
sana pumasa 'tong concept na 'to, hehe.

VocProm

tey, e2 na yung sample ng ginagawa ko.
a series of panels illustrating Mission, Spirituality. Community.
comments?
4 out of 6 pa lang...

Lomodification

na-curious kasi ako sa lomo lomo na 'yan. eh kaso wala akong holga e. PS CS3 meron. parang may lomo na rin

Lost in Traslacion

Lost in Traslacion.
    It was the first day of my first visit to Naga and I found myself amidst the swarm of fanatical devotees to Ina, as the locals endearingly call the image of Our Lady of Peñafrancia. The Traslacion, as the procession was  called, was a yearly event that signaled the start of the novena to Ina.
    Originally, I had no plans of  joining the procession of voyadores; I was already forewarned by some brothers about the creatively concocted stench of liquor and sweat and body odor. I was told about the danger of being crushed in the stampede of devotees clawing their way through the thick cordon of voyadores just to touch or wipe their hankies on the image of Ina. And of course, I was skeptical of public and fanatical shows of devotion.
   Yet, there I was, about three layers of voyadores away from the image of Ina, almost sucked into the vortex that held the crowd's attention. At first, I could not understand how some men were crying as they joined that religious commotion. That is, until I actually got lost in the Traslacion.
   The feeling was that of something that spoke to your gut--raw, powerful, palpable, instinctive, engaging, overwhelming.
    The rawness of the experience felt like it punctured something in me. but instead of blood, it oozed hot, stinging tears.

1st time sa Naga

snaps from xave and nono's diaconate ords

Viewing your Photos on the iPod Touch

maliit kasi screen ng 5th gen. buti na lang mas ok na dito =) pwede portrait or landscape orientation.

Watch A Movie on your iPod Touch

at least di na sasakit mata ko pag nanonood ng movie sa ipod.

Music on the iPod Touch

so this is what the ipod does originally. hehe.

youtube on the iPod Touch

pwede din magyoutube...

Safari browser on the iPod Touch

No need to bring your mac to the wifi hotspots. e2 na lang kung magnenet ka lang din..

Apple iPod Touch Guided Tour

demo of the lates iPod Touch

The New iPod Touch

*dreamy eyed*

The New iPod Classic

while it seemingly looks the same (kaya nga classic, hehe), it has a bigger capacity. think 160GB! oh, and it's also all metal.