edd aragon blogs.on

2012 Doodlings

2012-01-02T09:44:00.004+11:00

Blame Facebook et.al which took over our lives and much time away from blogging, an activity of which some believe is reserved for hermits, loners, the depressed, the old, the deranged and those in contact with extra-terrestrials. Not me tho. Uh-uh.. for I still enjoy process of constructing a blog entry specially in tandem with images such as photos and drawings.

Facebook maybe a trial launchpad for postings we're confident enough to own up to like perhaps this series of playful doodles I've created in iPad. Now how shall I define this doodle game? Maybe reverse apophenia whereby I challenge myself to create a doodle around a random or given data, e.g. 2012 and make sense out of it.

Ever wonder what we would be up to this next 365 days..if ever?

Shall we start the year with worry?.. constantly thinking about that dreaded Mayan calendar?.. that there's going to be a polar shift? Shall people my age freak out? With gums atrophied and teeth falling out I'd be more concerned of molar shift. There's also much commercial hype about that cataclysmic B movie that I've convinced myself it's only end of the world for old ideas and bitter emotions. However if what doomsayers are harking about were true I'd still reckon that Earth, like us humans, would have already exploded or imploded so prematurely due to anxiety:) It's our character, a duality within but at least we still have our free will on which announcements to believe.

Might as well enjoy life instead of hiding under the bed to avoid that killer asteroid. For some it will be more doodles, more devices, more apps..

..or ride like the wind all year..

..or catch butterflies of their childhood..

..or perhaps spend a year mulling over that old lemon..

..or go on a really serious diet..

..or find more significance inside an Australian lifestyle..

.. or to have the determination to communicate more with loved ones ..

..to diffuse the angst by playing more golf...

... or perhaps indulge the whole year composing or playing more soulful songs..

..or to be more intuitive, i.e- alert about opportunities & aware of impending disaster however large or small given the understanding that life's a ball and what matters is to be constantly in control of it.

..or maybe more holiday visits to, in my case, Motherland..

..or get closer with nature. Whatever it is good luck guys...have a Happy New Year! Isang Masaganang Bagong Taon!

Abbey Road

2011-08-29T09:37:00.004+10:00

Abbey Road image update

Abbey Piano by Edd Aragon 2011

Won't let the bad August moon pass by without a blog entry:) Lately I've been playing tracks found in Abbey Road (voted greatest Beatles album by readers of Rolling Stone in '09). Well the wind is high and the sky is blue so I've created a new Abbey for you. Call it "derivative" digital job after using images proliferating in the net plus the need to feed an inspired tribute to this legendary album. FYI The Beatles guys were part of my high school days in Manila since the early 60's, the magical days of my youth.

Take the piano keyboard off their feet and Abbey Road won't be the same. The piano rendition in You Never Give Me Your Money and the Moog synthesizer in Because are hauntingly sweet. Was it Paul on the piano?

Did you know?

..Abbey Road is the eleventh studio album released by the English rock band The Beatles and their last recorded.

..widely regarded as one of The Beatles' most tightly constructed albums, although the band was barely operating as a functioning unit at the time.

..album front cover design is a photograph of the group traversing a zebra crossing, based on sketched ideas by McCartney and taken on 8 August 1969 outside EMI on Abbey Road. At around 11:30 that morning, photographer Iain MacMillan was given only ten minutes to take the photo whilst he stood on a step-ladder and a policeman held up the traffic

..Abbey Road was also the first and only Beatles album to be entirely recorded through a solid state transistor mixing desk as opposed to thermionic valve. (wth is that?:)

Talk about legacy!

.. image of the Beatles on the crossing has become one of the most famous and imitated in recording history. The crossing is a popular destination for Beatles fans and there is a webcam featuring it. In December 2010, the crossing was given grade II listed status for its "cultural and historical importance"; the Abbey Road studios themselves had been given similar status earlier in the year. - (from Wiki)

Visit Abbey Road live via webcam. Here's the link:

http://www.abbeyroad.com/visit/

Also here's an Abbey medley, Abbey nice day mate!

Dead Birds Flying

2011-07-03T12:56:00.010+10:00

Studies of Dead Sparrows by Vincent Van Gogh, 1885 -image source

The Vanishing Birds

Alfredo Roces often emails me articles by popular writer Juan Mercado of the Philippine Daily Inquirer. A recent one needed a strong cup of coffee. It read ominous, a subtle cry for help. A puzzle. What the heck is going on? Philippine birds are going extinct?! I was a pelican choked.

Avian Inferno digital image by edd aragon

There's guilt I've nursed inside a nest woven more than 50 years ago; vivid as I held still-warm, bloodied sparrow that dropped off a tree, downed by a slingshot fashioned out of branches of backyard señorita guava tree. ¿Qué carajo? My grandma Lola Pina was so upset upon discovering her tree's missing Y-branch. She knew it was me. Less branches means less guava fruit for you!

Gaia-Gaia..Photo-Maya digital image by edd aragon

Mother calmly explained that birds are precious, ate worms, must be respected, protected, etc..and finally added "for God's sake hijo find something else for target practice!" I vowed it was last sparrow-hunt. Sometime later a street lamp exploded. I realized I was in a bigger trouble. Gotta go!

Red-breasted cockatoos - edd aragon 2006

Australia is home since 1979, more than half of my life spent in a vast country where laws for protection of wildlife are most rigid, allowing me to witness and learn more about endemic birds that have somehow adapted to cities, nesting in roof gutters, nonchalantly hopping along highways and feeding on plump insects smashed by car windscreens, or gorging on stolen potato chips and left-over meat pies.

Rosellas up a palm tree - edd aragon 2006

Rosellas, cockatoos, magpies, currawongs, peewees and hawks often visited my backyard where I kept chickens a few years ago.

a juvenile currawong/ image: edd aragon 2006

I also grew vegetables which attracted insects. Perhaps it was the lush and food around. Turtle doves became pests as they gobbled up wheat grains ahead of the chicken.

Backyard chooks/ image: edd aragon

While in a Manila street last year I was distracted by a commotion. There were men and boys running after a small but colorful parakeet. I asked one boy what the big deal was. He said they wanted to catch it because it was rare and can sell for a lot of money. Oh well, ask a silly question..

Fired up by Mr. Juan Mercado's article I felt the need to share and have it read by more people; and for better visual reminders I've gathered images from the web to illustrate them. With Mr. Mercado's kind permission I've featured his article in this blog entry including some feedback. For more outstanding avian photos visit websites of Philippine bird watchers clubs and/or societies (click on image source links).The time has come, I reckon that we all become bird watchers.

image source

Ironically photographs and stamps may sadly be the last vestiges of these near-extinct birds. It's always never too late.. they say, but I still fear the day our grandchildren ask "Lolo, what's a sparrow?"

Here now is Mr. Mercado's article published in the Philippine Daily Inquirer with images inserted.
---

FEATHERED DESAPARECIDOS by Juan L Mercado

‘

The grey-haired visitor from Brussels was perplexed, ‘Where,” he asked,.” did your birds disappear to?”

image source

In his native Belgium, storks tiptoe unhindered between tractors. Robins and pigeons fill the parks. “Feed the birds / Two pence a bag” is the haunting “Mary Poppins” refrain.

Philippine Eagle/image source National Geographic

In contrast, birds here run a gauntlet of slingshots, traps and pollution --

Phil. Whiskered Tern/image source

--and disdain.”If it flies, it dies”, a Negros gun club bragged.. We’ve razed forests, paved over mangroves (“Asphalt is the last crop’) and poisoned rivers that are habitats for birds..

image source

The Mindoro imperial pigeon ...

Rufous Hornbill Buceros hydrocorax ©Romy Ocon http://www.pbase.com/liquidstone

..Sulu hornbill and ..

image source

..Mindanao parrot finch have vanished, we wrote in 2004. Since then, the number of native species, threatened with extinction, have risen to 89.. Among these are..

© Desmond Allen

..the Blue-Winged Racquet-Tail,..

Image source

..the Isabela oriole, ..

image source

..the Dark-Eared Brown Dove, ..

image source

..Mindanao Bleeding-Heart,..

image source

..and the Chinese Crested Tern.

“Your children will no longer thrill, as we once did, to the heart-stopping dive of a hawk,” National Scientist Dioscoro Umali, told UP graduating students, just before his death.

image source

“We’ve stripped the land of its beauty ,” he said “And the bitter tragedy is the victims are our grandchildren --- flesh of our flesh, bone of our bone. “

image source

Yet, the Philippines is a “mega-diversity ‘ nation,” notes the UN’s “State of Environment in Asia and the Pacific”. It’s wedged among the top seven countries that “collectively claim more than two-thirds of the earth’s biological resources.” The Philippines and Australia top Indonesia in number of “endemic” or native birds.

The UN sponsored World Migratory Bird Day on May 8 last year. . It’s theme was: “Save migratory birds in crisis – Every species counts!”. No less than 77 species of egrets , plovers and sandpipers rest at Olango Island, off Cebu,, as they traverse the East Asian Migratory Flyway, to flee winter.

Worldwide, a staggering 1,227 or 12.4% of the total 9,865 extant bird species in the world are currently classified as globally threatened. Of these, 192 are tagged “Critically Endangered..”

An estimated 19% of all known birds are considered migratory. BirdLife International classifies 11% as “Globally Threatened.”

image source

Today, the Philippines has deteriorated into a “bio-diversity hot spot” ---one of the region’s 12. This strip expends from Indian Ocean islands, Eastern Himalayas to Sri Lanka. Many endemic species face extinction within this belt.

image source

Deforestation saw “a number of bird species disappear from Cebu, Negros,Panay and Mindoro,” the UN study notes. “Of highest priority for conservation are Indonesia’s Lower Sundas, Eastern Himalayas, Luzon (especially Mindoro)” it adds.

image source

On an Ulaan Bator hilltop, I watched hawks , swoop from clear Mongolian skies. Childhood memories of hawks swooping to snatch chicks in outlaying barrios resurfaced. “My grandchildren never saw this,” I mumbled. “And they’re poorer for the loss.”

The Master from Galilee used the image of a hen, sheltering chicks from marauding hawks, to underscore “the time of visitation.”

North Negros Forest Reserve image source

Birds perform multiple tasks from curbing insect infestations to scattering seeds.
In the shrinking North Negros Forest Reserve, 20 percent of trees will fail to regenerate, if the present rate of hunting continues, a University of British Columbia study notes.

image source

Like rivers, birds make up a unique and sensitive early warning system. When rives dry up, or birds disappear, they signal that “the environment is under such stress that species which lived in them for thousand of years, can no longer survive,” the Philippines Red Data Book notes.

image source

The graybird and flower pecker (dicaeum quadricolor) were unique to Cebu. They’ve been wiped out and are now numbered among “feathered desaparecidos”.

image source

Add to these “disappeared” the Black-Hooded Coucal,..

image source

..Negros Striped-Babbler, ..

image source

..Philippine Cockatoo,..

image source

..White-Throated Jungle-Flycatcher..

image source

..and Flame-Templed Babbler..

Siloy bird / image source

Cebu Daily News’ mascot is the endangered black shama or siloy. But ‘I haven’t seen a siloy,” columnists Roy Lu wrote. ‘Worse, I have seen other birds that will never sing again: the tukmo, the kukuk.”

“Concentration of endangered birds is larger in islands like Hawaii, the Philippines, Indonesia or Mauritius’, periodic World Conservation Union surveys found: .”

Abra River polluted by mining image source

              Island birds are smaller in number and range. They become vulnerable when forests, as in Mindanao are razed , or rives like Abra are laced with toxic chemicals and human nature waste. In Cebu’s Guadalupe river, coliform pollution exploded by 6,000 percent within a four year period — a candidate for the Guinness Book of Records.

             Complacency stems from greed, indifference and ignorance. Used to past abundance, many assume ‘there’s more where they came from. .Well, there’s none.

             But no bird, herb or fish disappears alone, Oxford University’s Dr. Norman Meyer warns. When they go, so do their unique genes—life building blocks.

Genes are spliced into ‘miracle rice,” high-yielding corn, or, even Dolly the sheep, if you remember.. Other go into drugs against cancer, AIDS, etc. No one knows what may-be needed the day after.

image source

This “killing curve of species, is genetic forfeiture”, Inquirer observed..” It seals off little understood options for our grandchildren.”. Loss of species is irreversible obliteration of unique life forms. No one has yet invented recall from annihilation. Extinction is forever.

Whippoorwill image source

           ‘And what is there to life if a man cannot hear the lonely cry of the whippoorwill?” asks the mythical Chief Seattle. “if all the (birds) were gone, men would die from a great loneliness of spirit.” ####

            ( Email: juanlmercado@gmail.com )

---

Feedback

via Juan Mercado:
Jurgenne Primavera is one of the world's top 100 scientists featured in a Time magazine cover last year (she is a specialist on mangroves) she forwarded Edd's illustration of the column feathered desaparecidos to her friends. below is her note. you'll love the prickly way she handles scientific names. johnny mercado p.s. see carol montilla's startling note below.

Dear Friends

Please share this column (thanks, Johnny!) with other bird-lovers. A minor note is that the flower pecker's scientific name is spelled Dicaeum quadricolor, and not any other way.

J.H. Primavera

.. here is another reaction from carol montilla in leyte: Hello Johnny...thanks for the vanishing birds info you sent. Let me share with you a brief story...I have always been a bird lover and even in America, I picked up a dying pigeon downtown, its wings badly damaged and I slowly nursed it back to good health, "walking" it at the park with my dog and finally setting it free after nearly a year.
Three months ago a father desperate for funds to enroll his little ones asked to do some odd gardening jobs for me and in gratitude, awarded me with the biggest bird I have ever seen. A bird who flew so low at their home near the wilds at Palo, Leyte.

Was I amazed to discover from the internet that it is one of a rare breed now...an exact replica of the photo you sent of the hornbill from Sulu. I have christened him Rufus..and Rufus is an endearing one, he makes a loud noise when he sees me and instantly bows his head towards me, offering it to be caressed!

know that one day I shall have to surrender him to DENR as he is one of a few 150 hornbills now in existence worldwide. Any advice? Friends say I can take care of him better..que sera. Regards

from Victor "Bimboy" Peñaranda, Philippines:

I came up with a modest proposal to friends in conversation and to persons who happen to attend my lectures, on how to care and conserve our natural heritage, especially birds: Know their names and know them by sight.

When you start to identify and name them, you gain a certain kind of interest and start to understand them (trees, flowers, fishes, birds). When you meet them during walks or picnics, you start to create a relationship with the bee-eaters, coucal, mynah, kingfisher, doves and those that can be found in your neighborhood or surrounding areas, you also start to understand their habitat: trees, other forms of vegetation, the stream, the ricefields. This relationship breeds sympathy, kindness and even genuine concern. You start to tell people about them, including your wife and children. You start to listen to their different voices, know them by the pattern of flight, their feeding habits, their plumage, their natural beauty. They can be experienced. You begin to realize that forests, birds, streams, turtles, fields, lake are everyday blessings. They should maintain their grace; they should not be harmed -- something we in our family have agreed upon and promised to practice as opportunities arise. Try to bring as many children into this circle of communal experience. No need to preach or agitate. They have to know the birds they meet and learn how to name them as if they have been gifted a role in Genesis.

This morning i met a pair of wild doves (bato-bato), a mynah (martines) feeding on the ground, a grassbird (turyok), bee-eaters who snatch insects in flight , a coucal (sabakot) --- and try my best to be a good neighbor to them, even if we all know that the encroachment of settlements and modern industries are endangering them. How do i explain that the wilderness is very much a part of me and everyone of us? i have to know the precious names of those i stand to lose and want to save in my wild life.

After a big flood that devastated the island of Samar in 1989, i joined a gang of friends in organizing a campaign to end commercial logging in Samar. Most of those who went on board were Waray based in Samar and in Metro Manila. Some of those in Metro Manila decided to relocate in Samar, hinting that they have found an excuse to return to their hometowns. They jokingly called their shift of attention and vocation from the national capital to the forests of Samar as "Total Recall." This was accompanied by the formation of an NGO that could accommodate our dreams.

In 1991, the government declared a total ban in commercial logging in the entire island. But that was not the end of our problems. There was constant threat from the corridors of power, especially from Congress, to bring back logging and to introduce big-scale mining operations to break the ban. In 1997 we finally got a an Executive Order declaring all forests of Samar as forest reserve. But after a few years, a new law allowed big foreign mining interests to invest, explore and exploit our mountain resources. The threat was countered in 2000 when the contiguous old-growth and regenerating forests of Samar were declared by government as the Samar Island Natural Park, the largest remaining low-land rainforest in the archipelago. This was supported by UNDP.

The people of Samar took pride in their achievement. That's why when the big mining companies made their move to trash the Natural Park in 2002, there was massive resistance. The three bishops of Samar and the bishop of the diocese of Palo in neighboring Leyte formed an alliance with civic groups and local governments to thwart the intentions of multinational mining companies who forged ties with logging corporations (one of which is owned by a senator). The mining companies backed off.

All is quiet in the Samar front right now, but people of that island have made a virtue of being restless. They, including the veterans of the 1980s-90s campaign, keep their antennae raised to sense any form of danger. Of course, we're all hoping that the successor generations will swell the ranks of advocates for the wilderness, when (and where) it really matters. Oo nga pala, the Samar Island Natural Park has to be declared formally by an act of Congress. That's why the mining companies have not lost hope. -- bimboy

from Bless Salonga, Sydney:

Very interesting fact about the Sulu Hornbill, more reason why they should be protected. You are so right, we torture animals in the Philippines. Being able to feed sea gulls in Bondi Beach (when we lived there) with our left-over bread crusts for over 10 years makes me feel sad. Most of our countrymen have not had the privilege to get this close and have gain our feathered friend's trust (well except for the homing pigeons); they don't know what they are missing out!

I remember the first time we visited Greenpatch in Nowra; placed bird seeds on our hands, heads and on our laps and those lovely local birds invited themselves to the feast and fed from our hands.

from CP Tagamolila, Chicago, USA

It is a shame that these beautiful creatures are being annihilated indirectly or unintentionally. Among others, slingshots should be outlawed as a toy for children without proper education, in the Philippines. With this instrument so prevalent, even 4-year olds or older kids who still do not understand the consequencies of their actions, can kill birds! I am ashamed and remorseful to say, I was one of them when I was growing up.

Tante

from Ed Labadia, New Jersey, USA:

might sound quite selfish of us...

but in our lifetime we won't

suffer the griever consequences..

silang mga di ipinanganganak ngayon

who will inherit the barren Earth.

lungkot,

To2ed:-(

from Mario Aldeguer, Sydney:

A very sad state of vanishing wildlife in The Philippines indeed Edd. I use to hunt these birds and bragged then if I shot one from a longer distant because I was just bloody IGNORANT! Nobody really taught us these birds should not be hunted or should only be hunted based on reproduction cycles and numbers. Education on preservation should actually be an important subject in our schools in Pinas......I think the re-introduction of the native species into our wildlife can be an option if there are firm laws to protect.The punishment for killing a panda in China without authority is DEATH....they mean business.The general consensus is we have more important things to worry about than wildlife.

Mate what is really frightening is the destruction of our coral base surrounding villages and populated area.....our staple food is basically fish and we are destroying its food source without really doing anything about it.....I feel sorry for the next generation. Thank you for sharing .

from Cita Hoersch, Sydney:

Thank you so much for this. Will forward it to Maria James who is the founder of Miss Earth Australia. I will ask her to include this in her Agenda when she have the Miss Earth Pageant this year.

Surprisingly, Miss Earth pageant was started in the Philippines but we have not progressed very much with regards to protecting our environment. People like you and Juan Mercado can spread the word. Keep up the good work.

from Tony Ablen, Hawaii:

Nakakalungkot isipin ang mga nababantang paglaho sa mundo ng mga nagagandahang ibon na matatagpuan lamang sa Kapuluan ng Pilipinas. Dahil sa kagahaman at kagaguhan
ng mga hunters; ng mga developers (deforestation) na sinisira ang pugad at tahanan ng
mga nilikhang ito; mga nambibitag; sa atin na ring pagpapakawala ng carbondioxide na lumalason sa mga hayop na ito; sa mga walang pakialam kung maglaho man ang mga
species na ito, (we could all well be involved in their extinction).................tony

from Violi Calvert, Sydney:

..You are right ..that the answer is through education. Our hope is through the enlightened young generation.

While we are talking of what needs to be preserved for the present and future generations, there is also the Haribon Foundation doing a great job in trying to protect "sites, species and habitat". Here's the link to their site: http://www.haribon.org.ph/
They invite people to be members [either as individual or as an organisation] and also encourage people to buy/pay for seedlings. Our fraternity-sorority group have bought a number of seedlings per member and also joining as a member organisation.

Cheers.
Violi

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from Tom Baena, Sydney:

There are a lot of things in the Philippines that we took for granted. I can remember my grandfather used to tell people off every time they use to shot birds with a sling shot, near our restaurant, which had a lot of trees, flowers and birds. I can also remember the beautiful public plaza and municipal buildings that were built during the Spanish era. Those things are now gone. I only realised how beautiful they were now that I lived here in Sydney.

There was a Japanese gun position made of concrete at the backyard of my great grand parents house, that I used to play at when I was a kid. I saw it two years ago in rubbles as the people thought that there was a treasure buried there. So they distroyed it. It was part of history. It is so sad to see all these wanton destruction of historical sites by corrupt public officials looking for a quick buck.

Perhaps it is time that Filpress should start/support an educational campaign in conjunction with Haribon and other conservation organisations in the Phils. to save our birds, trees, old buildings, Churches, Government offices, public squares that were built in the Spanish era etc...

Please count me in if there is going to be one.

Tom

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Thanks for the feedback. Comments to this blog are moderated and shall take awhile to display - edd

Within and Without

2011-06-20T00:06:00.081+10:00

"Welcome, welcome to Manila!" grimaced the man wearing an elegant terno. Later we were offered sashes to wear as blindfolds. We all stood up quiet. Brace yourselves I thought, we're in for some surreal surprise. For a moment the black cloth made me feel I was to be executed at Bagumbayan. See, to be enveloped by a deliberate silence with vision occluded left me nowhere to go but within me, biological apps snapped to survival then to meditative mode where I grasped some Beta waves fading out into Alpha; and when it was about to hit a crescendo of Gamma the placid mind was rattled by "Quiapo! Quiapo! Sakay na kayo.." Then the roar of motor vehicles, pedicabs, trains and an ambient hum of a familiar street crowd.

The on-your-face darkness set out a mild nyctophobia, provided a mysterious but sweet sensation of being boxed in and boxed out, imaginatively peering out of a Fedex box only to find out I was inside a bigger box, while my body materialized in and out of an endless stack of Babushka dolls.

What madness to be instantly tele-transported to a distant geo-political state while escorted by an aural assault of MP3-formatted soundtracks of traffic noise and olfactory stimuli. I relished with gusto the atomizer aromas of beloved Manila, the sticky scent of sampaguita and ylang-ylang, the fragrance of roasted peanuts, a whiff here, a whiff there, a whisper in my right ear and then left alone to drown in a staccato of Miss Saigon's rotor blades that hovered pervasively like aromatic molecules.

It was a blitzkrieg of third eye visual assault..then woot! ..woot!..woot!..a panicking siren cued us to remove the blindfolds after which we were politely ushered into a bigger gallery and lo and behold..a miniature Manila landscape!

"What's this?" I asked myself with pupils still dilated. Have some gifted children finally grown up, those same creative kid savants who preferred playing with the boxes instead of toys contained within?

The garlicky smell of adobo meanwhile launched a tug-o-war between my gut and brain. Cool, after odor-ama we found ourselves in the middle of a huge diorama. I did realize the tremendous collective effort of people who gouged hundreds of windows out of buildings seemingly sculpted with disciplined abandon. There was even traffic monitored by a spycam behind the miniature jeepneys and relayed to a screen. Thank God there was no aroma of carbon monoxide from pretend car exhausts. The scene was an analog GoogleEarth, a bird's eye view of a human giant over a city from a distance of about a kilometer at a 35-degree angle in about 100:1 ratio.

This was the point of no return I thought, I was back in my old city of birth only this time the landmarks were made of cardboard cut-outs, Pandora's corrugated boxes hollowed out with passion and determination of a Jules Verne. Manila for a moment was the center of the earth viewed from down under.

The vista reminded me of the last frames of the Raiders of the Lost Ark that gloomily showed a warehouse full of cobwebby boxes that were to be joined by the Ark of the Covenant.

Then a scaled-down Black Nazarene slowly wheeled in front of me as the crowd (us) screamed Viva, Viva, Viva!

Manila by night with white-tape lined roads led to staircases and rooms that offered earthly pleasures. Also in a mock karaoke room I saw a thorn-crowned, half-naked body spread-eagled on the floor which I excruciatingly ignored.

The audience was treated to a cornucopia of film projections that looped endlessly while in a corner I spotted a makeshift lathe that spun and wove meandering shadows of a city skyline.

The Cultural Center of the Philippines floated against the wall like a weird UFO in the sky ostensibly prophetic of the second coming of the political kind for the person behind this iconic building situated along Roxas Boulevard.

It was also intriguing to see the UP Oblation man with his elbows bent as if gesturing "Whadda?!"

Manila City Hall with its signature red Big Ben clocks was to my right, a step away to the left sat a nocturnal Ermita clad in black stockings.

Outside the gallery I could faintly hear the squabbling of magpies agitated by a cold front that set out earlier.

However I must confess I've "destabilized" Malacanang Palace when I accidentally heeled it. My apologies, somehow it was my impish subconscious that demonically possessed wayward foot craving justice due from previous tenants.

Of course, you would have known by now that I was fleetingly within a performance play, inside a mock tour group that almost caricatured Manila's Walk This Way tour operated by Carlos Celdran, that articulate guy who bravely conducted a one-man protest recently inside Manila Cathedral, and held up a handwritten sign in bold letters that screamed: DAMASO, name of bullying priestly character out of Dr. Jose P. Rizal's Noli Me Tangere.

image source
Touch me not!..or else you'll be charged extra over the striptease, says an unseen sign. There was a long menu for vicarious hedonism that fueled black humour, as Celdran's opus was also evident in the performance play, a simple sign that mocked as painful reminder to a stubborn Church which resolutely abhors the proposed Reproductive Health Bill.

Intramuros was a city within walls and modern age has expanded it beyond its boundaries, symbolically at least. To draw upon a parallel, I thought the Church was somehow privy to knotting a somewhat national blindfold that tightly gripped future of next generation of Filipinos already immune to poverty. I like to think that for majority, cloth cruelly garroted and threatened to squeeze the brains out of a feudally conditioned people. Likewise Munch's Scream could not be muted enough for insanity ruled inside two-dimensional walls.

Above: Datu Arellano of Anino Shadowplay Collective

The play was wholistically compelling and there were moments the carved boxes betrayed their hollow, corrugated flesh, flimsy facades aloof of commercial logos while actors metamorphosed into living paper-maches.

Above: Kenneth Moraleda, writer Menchie Maneze, this blogger and Paschal Daantos Berry

Being part of a test audience that interacted with the performers proved worthwhile. Immersive it was and left me soaked dry in dusts of internal dialogues which debated social issues; and corroborated a pleasant quote: the opportunity to create a small world between two pieces of cardboard, where time exists yet stands still, where people talk and I tell them what to say, is exciting and rewarding.

Above: a few members of the cast

Entitled Within and Without the play was written by a friend, the brilliant Filipino-Australian playwright Paschal Daantos Berry and Deborah Pollard in cooperation with Valerie Berry and Anino Shadowplay Collective wtih Datu Arellano, Andrew Cruz and Don Maralit Sulabayba;

Image: Kenneth Moraleda plays major role in Australian film "Lucky Miles" which was also featured on ABC tv.

..while good friend Kenneth Moraleda of Australian movie "Lucky Miles" fame is guest actor. Don't miss this unique performance at Blacktown Arts Center. See poster for details.

Sex Scandals (Big Boys in Trouble)

2011-06-03T11:09:00.003+10:00

Governor, minister,
Banker's DNA
President & King
Oats gone astray?

I'm just a plebeian,
Thank heavens, thank Mary
Big boys in trouble
not in my dic..tionary:)

Anytime there's a scandal, we all try and get involved..says Larry Flint; and what was George Stevens complaining about when he thought he might say something to newsmen that could be turned into a scandal?

Sadly or fortunately, the media could be a focusing lens for its audience, problem is like asphalt heat waves, the lens offer distorted or magnified or manipulated tales . However not all manipulations intend evil if humour may be considered as one; and so let me share a photo-manipulatoon or digital opinion cartoons using manipulated photographs. This cartoon was featured in http://www.gmanews.tv/

Blacktown, Cool Town

2011-05-30T11:35:00.003+10:00

Downtown Blacktown
how i love this city
Fun and art-loving
so multiculturatti:)

Not your leafy suburbs
no street upheaval
only Nurragingy
in a time-warp Medieval

No surf nor a big bridge
no boats moored in the bay
only proud visitors
the Darug allowed to stay

Emergency heroes
ambos, fire engine
Filipinos in Defense Force
the agin' still marchin'

Koreans beat their hyeokbu
Falun Gong partying
Cheerleaders and stilt walkers
Shiek swords parrying

Australia spells freedom
unless one jumps the queue
we all live together
like the emu and kangaroo:)
-edd aragon 2011

All We Are Saying Is Give Peace a Chance

2011-05-25T08:45:00.000+10:00

Mike Tyson's controversial Maori tattoo seems apropos on Mr. Netanyahu's right cheek. Hopefully he turns his other cheek to give peace a chance. (this cartoon was first & published in http://www.gmanews.tv/world)

Planet Cluster Wonder

2011-05-15T00:44:00.003+10:00

Venus in the middle
Mercury to the right
Jupiter to the left
they're all shining bright

'twas truly cosmic
mirrors in the dark
like stars they mimic
fleeting hope to hark.

Friday 13th May photo. Planet cluster in my backyard.

Thurs 12th May photo. Planet cluster in my backyard. Kings Park, NSW, Australia
Click on photos to see the planets hovering like fireflies over the tv aerial. If you're
reading this then it wasn't the end of the world yet:)

Cityscape-ANC TV Features UV Exhibit

2011-03-26T13:53:00.004+11:00

Under a Different Light ..
..currently on show at Yuchengco Museum features on tv program Cityscape (ANC/ABS-CBN). Carla Martinez of YM is interviewed by Lexi Schulze, host of this popular program that can be viewed around the world via The Filipino Channel. I caught the show's repeat the other day here in Sydney. Gee, I miss Manila already.

For those who haven't heard, the exhibit is a collection of 25 paintings rendered in UV-reactive pigments and themed about women. Don't miss it, runs until the 20th April.

Also another of my ultra-violet show, Cool Men, extends indefinitely at the Oarhouse Pub of Manila, the coolest watering hole in Ermita. Look for Ben Razon and he shall guide you up the mezzanine gallery where 12 cool music personalities are on dsplay.

Here's Lexi and Carla.

Visit the Yuchengco Museum in Facebook .

A Radio Interview in Manila

2011-03-14T13:40:00.001+11:00

Recently my partner and I took a Manila cab to find ourselves at 9:30 am at DZRJ at Makati Ave. So amused was I, can't believe I'd be inside my favorite radio station of my youth where often late at night I stuck my ears for hours on a single-speakered Panasonic transistor radio operated by 4 D-size batteries listening to the Celtics and Juan dela Cruz band.

Here's Manny Cash..

Prisoners of Memory by Ala Paredes

2011-03-09T12:10:00.003+11:00

Let me share with you an honest & immersive essay by Ala Paredes.
Ala is one of my models for Under A Different Light currently on exhibition at
the Yuchengco Museum.

Can't help but feel for most overseas Filipinos who are in a similar cultural dilemma; where inner, traditional Past halts you halfway toward an external and personal development seduced by a clean-slated Future. I agree with Ala, no matter the root, the dream is to branch out and bloom as an individual.

Real courage I believe is to venture into the unknown and not to give up (despite the number of Ala's ship that sunk) the dream.

One main reason not to be adventurous is the fear of Death...thus one misses Life. Isn't it that Death or the End of the World is one and the same?..and it's about one's own world and not anyone else's? Perhaps the Mayan wheel carved out of human sacrifices ominously turns because of wounding emotions of the Past such as pain, hatred and bitterness. Maybe letting go of the wheel and letting it roll down the hill towards the bottom of the ocean is part and requisite of the dream. - edd

Prisoners of Memory

By ALA PAREDES

I begin writing this just a few weeks after ending a long-term relationship, and with that, I sever my very last ties with tradition. This relationship was the vessel that carried the cargo of many of my hopes and plans for the future, plans that involved a house in the suburbs that we would renovate ourselves, children, and a life-partner to grow old and cynical with. And with the end of our relationship, that vessel has sunk to the bottom of the sea, along with all my other failed attempts to adhere to tradition.

I’ve tried to acquire for myself all the things my parents had, and make all the choices that they did. But it seems all those voyages have been unsuccessful or diverted, and that ship was the last on my fleet.

Tradition… being Filipino, tradition is a huge deal, and I find that most Pinoys are more traditional than not. Tradition pervades most big decisions in life: marriage, sex, courtship, what kind of God to believe in and, in some families, what politics to subscribe to.

Tradition is like your lola, golden, warm, beautiful, and wise, a soft, comforting presence. But she is also the grand matriarch who just won’t die, who has had an unnaturally prolonged life, greedily clinging to her power. Her voice spans centuries, commanding us from the past, an iron hand sheathed in a velvet glove. So strong is her influence, that disobeying her can fill one with a massive sense of guilt, dread, or anxiety.

Illustration by Ala Paredes

And despite my supposed unconventional, “bohemian” upbringing, I’ve spent my youth unconsciously trying to paint my life as a tribute to my history, a diptych of my mother’s and father’s life. In short, I’ve been as traditional as they come.

I know I’m not the only one who feels the desire to replicate the main themes in the lives of their ancestors. Maybe we feel that it honours and respects them, or maybe it is because we fear the unknown. However, there is a romance to following in our parent’s footsteps, a certain sense of nobility. How often are we told approvingly by others that we are just like our fathers and mothers, as if being given a pat on the back for being such a chip off the old block?

Every family has their own code of tradition. On my mom’s side of the family, I feel it has exercised its power most strongly on the choices I’ve made as a woman.

Despite it being perfectly normal for women to prioritize careers nowadays, I harboured a secret fear of marrying too late, of being the last apple in the fruit stand. My fear stemmed from economic reasons, I suppose. There is a very old-fashioned side to me that always just assumed a man would always be there to provide because my two strongest female role models never felt the urgent need to be the breadwinner or to forge a career.

My mother and grandmother both had a devoutly Catholic upbringing, and were married around their early twenties to husbands who fortunately were able to provide very comfortable lives for them.

Both women had a strong artistic streak and at one point in both their lives had a paintbrush permanently stuck to their fingers as they went through prolific creative phases.

And thus, I grew up surrounded by these two ladies of leisure who, after caring for the children and turning the house into a home, had time free time to pursue an artistic hobby. They certainly made an income selling or teaching art, but they did so because it was worth their while, and not because they had to work to survive.

Being securely married, in both a romantic and economical sense, my female ancestors painted for recreation. And here I am being past my use-date for being a young mother and wife, painting for survival.

I didn’t prepare myself for being unmarried in my late 20s. A few years ago, I believed so much that my life would turn like my mother’s that in my early 20s, I got engaged to be married. While that venture also ended up at the bottom of the sea, I look back and realize that I did it because that’s what my mother did, and I needed to resolve the predicament of being unmarried.

And with the dissolution of my latest romantic relationship in my late 20s, I find that I have missed my last chance to marry at a relatively traditional age. I wish I could say that I didn’t feel slightly mournful about it. I am attached to tradition even though she is a relentless dictator and I suppose there is a certain security in having your destiny decided for you.

But I now know that my life will not be like my mothers, and I no longer expect it to be so. I am free from the hold of tradition. I now have to re-write my destiny, and that means starting over. But now I find that I feel braver, more daring, more courageous about the prospect of really straying from the original script.

If tradition commandeered the arena of love and career on my mom’s side of the family, it took hold in the form of deeply instilled nationalism on my dad’s side of the family. Activism runs in the blood, not the sort of armchair activists that consists of “liking” a social cause on Facebook. These were men and women who risked life and limb, left their safe and sheltered lives behind to fight for a cause, and spent time in jail.

My lola’s name is inscribed on a monument, the Bantayog ng mga Bayani, along with a throng of martial law heroes and martyrs. My grandfather was the speechmaker for Former President Ramon Magsaysay and perished in the same fatal plane crash as the good leader. Then of course, there’s my father and his two friends who together are responsible for a bevy of nationalistic and patriotic musical contributions to Philippine popular culture. It was my dad who took me to my first protest rallies, who roused me in the middle of the night and made me go out on the street in my pyjamas to participate in the noise barrage that marked the beginning of EDSA Dos.

Ah, the generation who invented The Bloodless Revolution, and we, their children, who were told we had the blood of heroes in our veins.

To be a Paredes is to be patriotic, to participate in heated political discussions, to wear your nationalism on your sleeve. So much so that my father has given up the chance to live in the First World at least twice in his life because he could not extinguish the patriotic fire that burned within him.

When I moved to Australia, for years I refused to set down roots here, because I did not want to be “disloyal” to the Philippines, my mother country, and declared that I would one day return.

But over the years, I have allowed my foreign environment to change me, because one must either change or begin to slowly die. Being far away, I feel tradition’s iron grip weakening, and I have had a moment to ask myself what exactly I was being loyal to when I made such impassioned declarations. A country… a landmass? A bunch of people? A bunch of ideas I was told to believe in?

Somebody once said that passion is actually a cocktail of anger and love. And anger is something we have in abundance in the Philippines. Everyone there is pissed off.

We’re taught to be angry at the Spaniards, the Americans, the Japanese, the dictator, our corrupt officials, the greedy rich, and the occasional foreigner who dares make some insulting remark about our country and its people. We are a highly sensitive race after all, and if there’s one thing we can’t take, it’s criticism from white people.

Righteous anger is the ever-present thread in our history, the weft in the fabric of our collective consciousness, so meticulously woven into the tapestry that we do not notice how we continue to inherit it.

Over the years, I feel I have relinquished the anger that I used to subscribe to. I simply do not have the energy for it. I don’t like bickering. My anger has subsided and my patriotism has morphed into a gentle mocktail of love and nostalgia.

It’s not that I don’t care. I just want to see things with different eyes. I feel our history has been written in such a way that makes us believe we are an oppressed people. I feel that as a race, we’re terribly insecure and feel the need to prove ourselves all the time, as if there is something inherently wrong with being Filipino. I am not minimising the plight of people in the Philippines who really do continue to be oppressed. But I don’t want my history telling me I am damaged goods because of what happened in the past. I am not a prisoner of memory.

What if it’s not my life’s mission to prove to the world that the Filipino is great? What if just being Filipino is good enough for me? And if I’m going to be great, I want to be a great human being, nationality being incidental.

I guess it no longer matters to me if I am the perfect poster girl for Pinoy Pride. In fact, I want travel to change me as much as it can and take me far away from my origins. I want my convictions to be challenged. My roots will always be a part of me, but I want to be more than my roots. I want to flower into my own mutated, freakish, unique species of plant

Stephen Covey, author of The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People once said that we should live out of our imaginations and not out of our histories. This is precisely where I am going, away from traditions that have enslaved my ways of thinking. I don’t want to be afraid for life to change me this way and that as it pleases, even if I may come out unrecognisable on the other end. I pay my respects to the past, but the future is ultimately more important.

---

Ala Paredes was born in a town in California, USA, and since her first days of life, has never returned to her birthplace. Showing that she is destined to always leave her origins behind, she migrated from her hometown of Manila to Sydney, Australia and celebrates her 5th Migration Anniversary this year. She is still deciding where she wants to live next.

Opening NIght Photos - Ultra-Violet Paintings at the Yuchengco Museum

2011-02-20T16:00:00.006+11:00

Head still spinning after the opening last night at the Yuchengco Museum. Truly enjoyed the glorious space that contained my ultra-violet light-reactive paintings. Don't miss it! It shall run until the 20th of April this year.

Below are a series of photographs taken by brother Ricky during the opening night. I've also included photos taken in Sydney by Mario Aldeguer.

Ambassador Rod Smith of the Australian Embassy and Ambassador Alfonso Yuchengco "switching on" the ribbon

Let there be UV Light!

This Big! with family and Boy Yuchengco (affectionately nicknamed Boyu)

Partner Menchie, Lydia and Jim Paredes

Opening speech, a bit nervous here:)

Eric David, Heber Bartolome and Ricky Aragon

Freddie, Heber, Rod and Mila

With Alwin Reamillo and The Australian Ambassador

My old college professor Domingo Landicho

With Elso Cabangon and Jim Paredes

CEGP-LEADS

Museum curator Jeannie Javelosa with introduction.

Jim Paredes, Edd Aragon with Ambassadors Alfonso Yuchengco and Rod Smith of Australia

Lydia & Jim Paredes and Marge Aragon

Krip Yuson with Boyu and Menchie

Opening Speech

UVLights off

Dannie Alvarez and Krip Yuson

Artist Jonet Carpio and Menchie Maneze

With my Auntie Thelma

Guests at the Outdoor lobby

Writer Krip Yuson and Dannie Alvarez, museum administrator

Boyu with some guests

Ed Castrillo, Jim Paredes and Australian Amb. Rod Smith

posing with family

Sometimes it's all a blur..Boyu, missing for more than a year! He's okay! TG!

with my beloved childhood friends, Elveez, Freddie, Rod & Eric (almost:)

Taj (not sure of spelling) with Menchie and Howie Severino, GMA News Online editor and documentary maker at GMA Network.

Krip & Jim under the paper stones created by artists Tes Pasola and Tony Gonzalez

A weirder view:)

THANK YOU ALL WHO HAVE ATTENDED. I HOPE YOU ENJOYED A WONDERFUL EVENING UNDER A DIFFERENT LIGHT.

Read All About It! UV Light-Reactive Paintings in Manila

2011-02-09T09:45:00.012+11:00

UV light-reactive paintings

For those interested, there are two vital elements in this painting indulgence that need to work in tandem--the ultra-violet light source, often a fluorescent UV-A blacklight with low range of 400 nanometers (deemed totally safe for homo sapiens) and the ultra-violet light-reactive paint pigment. In between I have to wedge myself to partake in UV painting process. My mission: take control of areas of canvas where UV pigments should and should not be; to deceive and reprogram my brain's traditional painting habit that from now on white canvas shall appear black under UV light; and forever pursue the need to manufacture new neurons along the way.

The technique is not new, I thought, a bizzare deja vu of scratchboard art in my pubescent years, where poor artisan had to work in reverse and necessitate falling in love with negative spaces. Now it is deja UV, to go on a safari hunt and tame the blinding brightness of unusual pigment; to use white paint as “black” and to paint with liquid “optic fibres”; to confess that to lose control is to become a pig of pigments and to be lulled stupid by the gimmicky luminescence of a drippy Pollock of a canvas (which may not be a bad idea at all:).

When I was a younger man who patronized Vasquez Bros. art supplies stores in Manila, I asked an older artist how to paint. His retort was simple. “Paint!” Of course! ..but it mocked yet ironically inspired my illusions until I arrived at a dark, dead-end alley, where an obscene graffiti on wall read out: No shortcuts in doing serious painting. It then became clear that no one could actually teach another to paint. The art teacher is only a sherpa while self-taught student is left alone to climb the peak and etch an indelible mark on his canvas.

There were times contrasting internal dialogues assaulted my brain.

Oh dear; glow-in-the dark serious art? Oh Edd, you gotta be kidding!
No I'm not! Does it make any difference to you if paint I use is visible only under UV light whilst admiring your mother's portrait?.and by the way, the paintings don't light themselves up independently in darkness, I use a UV lamp!
Gimmicky mate, gimmicky; get back to your newspaper drawings!
But..but..I'm dead-serious about doing anything be it a cartoon, illustration, painting or whatever, and what about my day job? It sustains my pursuits doesn't it?
Sure buddy; never, ever give it up.
I won't take that as an insult, thanks for the challenge. I still want to share a part of myself with you..even if so vicariously.

The mental chat stopped when Goethe reared his philosophical head..”Work artist, don't talk!”

Nevertheless the older painter at Vasquez Bros forgot to tell me how to choose the painting medium that shall suit a vague artistic skill.

It was I think about 3 a.m. when I heard the Sydney Council garbage truck doing its round. I felt thirst and hunger and thought of toasted bread instead of burnt corneas. Dizzy I was after enjoying about 5 hours of continuous and mesmerizing paint work. My legs shook a bit for I can never paint sitting down. The chair restricted my movements. I put down my brushes and replaced the paint lid.

Well, how about I make milk shake out of UV powder that ironically rejects the invisible light of Sun God Ra? Ah, to taste art literally is afterall as ancient as the noble Australian aborigines who chewed chalky, saliva-enriched white clay to blow over their hands pressed against their ancient cave walls and then leave a long-lasting legacy as paleolithic as those in Lascaux. But then I don't think I'll enjoy my pasta after using roof of mouth as paint palette.

Tedium and chaos defined my early explorations (2004). The dark mental cave I strayed in was full of confused bats and scorpions! “Go away!” I screamed; ..or I shall be ultra-violeNt!

Google image: a scorpion under UV light

Guano suddenly became fragrant as I carefully mixed UV pigments to achieve varying degrees of value and intensity. I was so desperate to bottle delicately each mix with intent to cover the whole ultra-violet spectrum. What a wonderful idea! What a clever sausage you are, Edd! I came out of the cave with a giant smirk in my UV powder-tarnished face, scratching the top of my hand while looking so evil and conceited. The darkness is my sweetheart, the cave my new playground and my newest ally, the UV torch shall help me guide my way through the dark caves. The UV light-sensitive arachnids scampered away as they acknowledged my eureka moment.

A-ha-ha! For the background I'll use ready-mixed #1 and for the foreground, ready-mix #2 and so on. Perfect-o-o!

Then a ton of bat dump hit me; completely horrified after almost halfway through painting. What am I doing? Painting by numbers? I almost cried. Stupid me! Had to gather myself upon realization that they were not confused, blind bats just like me. It wasn't their fault. I spooked them and disappeared in disarray, that's why. Perhaps I should be living among these shifty creatures of the dark I thought. The chiroptera shall be role model for my pursuit.. to fly smoothly and dodge fine piano wires albeit flying blind. It dawned upon me that they were just being their natural selves. Active and reactive yet unformulated! The silent revelation was quick. From then on I've directly mixed pigment and acrylic-based vehicles on canvas I was working on. I dumped the palette.

A few years later the process became second nature and gave a comforting self-confidence to authorize finality to its exploration. It was time to settle down and bring back to life my old punk-haired sables and seriously romance the medium. The old dry-brush technique was rehashed to become a new religion in the arid desert of my adopted land. It was rapture for this a la prima atheist, the writing on the wall has changed. It announced a genesis of a line.. “Let there be UV light!”

I sang in full oido; hoo-ray no more ready-mixed palettes! The academic and monochromatic color wheel rolled away to oblivion as I duplicated spontaneously various paint mixes over and over again just by eye alone..likewise, the UV light which seemed to mock me initially like that old painter had offered its secrets, its provocations falling silent as the challenge shifted to a more interesting phase, i.e. to home in on concepts that begged physical manifestations. I was back in my turf.

Man (to include woman) is always center and theme of my paintings ever since, even editorial illustrations I do for Australian newspapers. I quite feel at a loss doing landscapes without the representation of Man who offered scale to a vast nature. Nature and human nature, aren't they one and the same?

This particular Manila exhibit is humble tribute to women whose images bask under a different light. Most of painting subjects are those of Filipino and Australian models and also include two vicarious works based on old photographs of two indigenous women, one by Eduardo Masferre and the other a detail from a 1900 photograph by a US government photographer posted in the Mountain Province at the time. I've also included the image of my own mother carrying the 2-year old me in 1951. I thank her. I have somehow closed the arcs of a mysterious loop.

I invite you to witness (silayan in Tagalog) the incredible, invisible rays of the light spectrum which could only reveal my latest paintings to be displayed at theYuchengco Museum this February. The show shall run until April of this year.

All through out the time I was preparing this UV show a certain Filipino song kept playing in my mind, vivid and perhaps better sounding than the one in my MP3 player. May I remind you of its beautiful tune by Nicalor Abelardo and lyrics by Teogenes Veles. It is a 30-year old Tagalog Harana. Maraming salamat po.

Silayan

Silayan at bigyan ng pag-asa
pagmamahal pusong nagdurusa
iwasan ang pag-aalinlangan
lahat ng araw kita'y mamahalin
Sa labi ng imbing kamatayan
itangi yaring pagmamahal
tulutan magtapat sayo hirang
lahat ng araw kitay' mamahalin

http://lyricstranslate.com

Here's an amusing version by Charmaine Clamor. The song is often retitled affectionately by most people as "Lahat ng Araw". Charmaine lives in America where the Philippine sunlight reaches and burns bright in her heart.
Philippines sans frontieres!

UFOs, Aliens, Mars, Moon, Morphs, Mona Lisa,Tikbalang, etc.

2010-09-04T18:01:00.159+10:00

I'm an Alien! (GIF file, frame-by-frame manual manipulation, no morphing software used. Liquify tool in Photoshop and ImageReady was really handy tho'; 26 frames in total, each at speed of .07 sec.; but don't tell anyone!:)

Yes people, I'm still at it, doing experimental GIF animations whenever time permits and obsessively taking on varied issues that may prove interesting. Thanks guys for your positive feedback; also to a theatrical artist in Manila who quipped old-school GIF animation still rules. Here are some of my latest, hope you like them.

UFOs in my backyard

The other day I was walking the dog with my partner at Falkland Crescent, a strip of nature reserve right smack in the middle of suburban Kings Park. It's just few meters away from where we live. At sundown she took some photos of me, one of them a la contra luz.

However there were some anomalies in the resulting digital photos,; the first one quite explainable because of the proliferation of PhotoShop/ImageReady;-) but the two others clearly showed 2 red UFOs.

"Edd, those are lens flares!" she insisted; but I really didn't think so;-)

Have you heard?

Back in 2002, the British government promised to publish secret files (that allegedly proved the existence of UFOs) as part of a shake-up of its laws on freedom of information.

(Britain to Publish Files on UFO Sightings/Reuters, November 28, 2002)

Eight years have passed before the British UFO archive was finally opened for everyone to access! Here's the link: http://ufos.nationalarchives.gov.uk/
While before governments denied us free information about UFOs, now they warn us that the UFO files are too big and shall take time to download:) (PDF format, the largest is 53.7 Mb).

Meanwhile in America where UFOs have become a successful theme for entrepreneurs (e.g. t-shirts, movies and places like Roswell highlighted in tourist maps), a disclosure briefing is being prepared for President Obama who also promised to release America's own UFO X-files. (background music Twilight Zone..ti-ni-nu-ni-nu-ni-nu:)

Have you even heard of Dr. Steven Greer’s Disclosure Project 2010?

As of January 15th Dr. Steven Greer (and Chantal Boccaccio) were reported to be putting together a package for a TV show involving UFO sightings captured on video but were never given any substantial explanation by the government despite obvious clues of extra-terrestrial origin. In these clips, Greer mentions briefing CIA directors (DCI) and work put together for President Obama. The question is the timing, why the synchronized disclosure now by this powerful nations? (YouTube link below)

China likewise allowed reports of UFO sightings in it own television channels. Is it because it cannot be denied anymore due to numerous sightings, not to mention high levels of activity of the so-called Crop Circles. What about the astronomical alignment of heavenly bodies on December 21, 2012? Of legitimate NASA photographs of UFOs seemingly harassing the Space Lab, or the Mars Rover's photographs of ancient structures, of Moon Base towers and structures smudged out by NASA artists before public release?

The Disclosure: Some of my best friends are aliens!

(Above) Vics Magsaysay is a U.S.-based fine photographer, artist, writer and alien.

(Above) Pandy Aviado, artist friend based in the Philippines. I've known
him for years as a UFO buff. We've exchanged UFO sighting news and photos of aliens.

(Above) Most recent alien addition is Claro Cortes IV,
Filipino photographer based in Singapore. Claro is photo-editor
of Reuters Asia.

(Above) Krip Yuson, writer friend. The brilliant penman is an alien afterall. Krip is also a member of Banggaan Artists Group.

(Above) Tante Tagamolila, Filipino engineer based in Chicago, USA. Took this
photo of him with his sketch in Boracay in 2008. Tante is also a Banggaan member.

Pump Up the GIF!

Tikbalang (mythological horse-like creature of the Philippines). This was a remanipulation and remake of a classic GIF file (Nano-Mustang, creator unknown) which was visual punchline of a series of downsized cars. (GIF image below)

Mona Lisa's smile was made out of 40 paint layers!..
(and 7 layers to make an animated smile:)

It was my extreme eagerness to see Mona Lisa actually smile that made me do it:) but that was after reading the news :)

Back to aliens, according to the Disclosure Project held by the National Press Club in Washington in 2001, it was alleged (or revealed) that there are 57 species of aliens catalogued as of 1989, some species were described to be looking much like normal people. (Youtube link below)

Struth! Here are some of them:)

(Above) MarioMorphosis

Banggaan art group member Mario Mercado sent us a photo of flowers he'd taken in the planet of Canopus Hollow which i then manually morphed into his caricature. Think he liked it:) Mario, a truly intelligent extraterrestial being is a US-based photographer, writer, artist, boxer and sharpshooter. He was a childhood friend of the late Filipino cartoonist Nonoy Marcelo. They grew up and honed their artistic flair together under one distant red star.

(Above) Ding's self-portraits.
Alfredo (aka Ding) Roces is one famous alien. An artist/writer friend who originally formed Banggaan art group back in 1995. He was so delighted with my experimental GIFs he asked if I could do him a GIF version of his self-portraits from 1952 to the present. Ikaw pa? (of course) I said. It's better to GIF than to receif:). It took me a few days to complete but had fun anyway morphing manually each transitory frame by using the Liquify tool in PhotoShop.

Eric David, long-time alien friend in Sydney (80's) and is now Manila-based artist.
Eric is a remarkable graphic artist. I took this photo last year during his exhibit at a gallery at The Fort.

(Above) Mel Vera Cruz, another Banggero who recently celebrated his birthday. Did this for him, wishing may he Ever Last. Mel is a fine alien, an artist who also does tattoo. He is based in America.

(Above) Whiska is alien pet cat of Banggero Ed Labadia. Had fun doing this using a cast of web-sourced mice. (No animals were hurt in the making of this GIF animation:)

GIFs can be hypnotic, too.

Some UFO-induced visions:)

(Above image) Nahihilo Ako (I'm Getting Dizzy)

A Soldier's Cry (I Got Hit/May Tama Ako)

What's the Buzz?

Well, mankind is said to be getting ready for a Cosmic Awakening, the Disclosure, the Revelation and/or Truth. Some claim that big changes shall happen in the next two years or so. Cool! Beware the bearer of false gifts, according to one alleged alien message derived and decoded from a recent Crop Circle (YouTube link below). And most important, don't believe everything in the web:-)

However may we all please choose to be plainly entertained or amused by unfolding events, nothing more, for it is truly hard to judge things that are unseen, unknown and incomprehensible. Life's just too mysterious and full of magic. Magic just like us, for how can just mere flesh and bones be able to breathe and think? Life is universal as has been written in ancient scriptures, beyond earthly existence. Life therefore is one, encompassing aliens and homo sapiens.

Okay alien dudes, the show ain't over yet, I shall leave you some intriguing YouTube videos (below). Careful out there. Trust no one. Never tell anyone:)

Mars Tubes and YouTube

Following are selected videos relevant to this blog entry:

This one is my favourite, really trippy;) Pump up the volume!

Sorry Hong Kong

2010-09-02T14:28:00.012+10:00

Filipinos in Sydney may seem not directly affected by recent hostage crisis in Manila compared to Filipinos who work in Hong Kong, but the unease is global and it is as if Filipinos are wearing daily a virtual black t-shirt with a sorrowful message.

Woe, it's me! If only I could give Jacky Chan a tight brotherly hug and not say anything at all, that would probably have sufficed. But no, that's only in my dreams. It would be futile despite sincere efforts of HK luminaries and government leaders to call for calm and sobriety. The Philippine media had clearly shown to the world via radio and tv the many opportunities that could have avoided those unnecessary deaths. And so here we are fenced in by strong undercurrent of rage and tendency for the people of HK to vent their frustration and ire on a..you've guessed it.

above (web photo)

But what can we do to express our great shame and sorrow? Not sure, really. Time shall heal everything so they say, but while we're on the hot seat it might be better to think of things to rectify things up instead of sulking and kicking ourselves dead, assaulted by images of what rightly should have been done.

Surely being caught with our pants down and exposed to international media is embarassing. Wha' happened? Did the pants' communication buttons snap? Zipper snagged? Or is that loose economic belt again that we've always known inutile to hold up our fig leaf? Call it wardrobe malfunction, the belt is useless for a nation's narrow waistline, its gut left hollow by previous administrations; where politicians failed to address the need of a well-equipped police force. Corruption as usual is the big C that started the rot. It's never too late.

Sorry HK!

Some people out of eagerness might choose to wear black t-shirts with Sorry HK printed and with a Philippine flag in halfmast underneath the letters.

It might be a good idea but maybe not as it might imply "t-shirt trivialization" of a truly sensitive issue and make things worse in HK.

Be Invisible?

Maybe invisibility is an option. Take the case of a Filipino woman in HK who was stalked and harassed by some guys asking "Are you Filipino?" to which she answered "No, I'm Indonesian!" They let her off.

But then if we're courageous enough to wear the t-shirt, make sure it is spit-proof-waterproof synthetic material. The law has tolerance for minor misgivings by a people untreated well and offended but let us not get in too close. Let the sax scream for we blew it.

The Power of Silence

Silence is another option as it is an age-old way of expressing sorrow (where sorry was derived from) despite possibility of being misinterpreted as uncaring. However the real issue here is the unnecessary loss of lives thus a long and solemn meditative silence would be appropriate show of respect to those who were killed. I believe in the power of prayer. Prayer works.

No words shall bring back those murdered. Silent printed words like articles and blogs might help heal the big, gaping wound in the hearts of the HK people and the Filipino nation. Let us not worry if we are made to feel guilty of homicide. We may not get off so lightly but let us keep a friendly hand extended. Oh man, it shall take a long period of "panunuyo" or "paglalambing" to those whose feelings we have gravely hurt, both as a nation and as individuals.

Pagpapakumbaba, paglalambing, panunuyo at paghihimas-himas (humility and childish and sincere cuddling up; for lack of better word) may seem to be feudal but they are tactile qualities Filipinos are known for. Hope we could weather the castigo (scolding) storm. We played the role of security guard that came ill-equipped. Be prepared, we are going to cop one big snob from the good citizens of Hong Kong. Let us just be wary of any external rage that may cross the line and transgress the law. Life is precious, and that's the reason for all this diplomatic mess.

Above image from this site.

Sorry is the order the day.When Kevin Rudd was our Prime MInister he said sorry to the Aboriginal people of Australia for the wrongdoings of the early white settlers. I swear I felt the deep solemnity of the ocassion.

above photo from this site

Almost couldn't bear looking at the tears flowing from the eyes of old Aboriginal people who attended the Sorry Day. The Australian people showed civility and decency to admit the errors of the past and they serve as inspiration for humility.

Australia's Sorry Day hits New York Times (above image from this site)

America and Canada likewise have made efforts to mend relationship wtih their tribal minorities. Japan also apologized recently to the Korean people for colonizing it. Humility is truly a mark of character.

We could do the same as race of people albeit in our own, little individual way. Am actually trying to contact my photographer friend in Sydney who I haven't seen for years. Anson Chen is from Hong Kong and was owner of a photo shop studio in Sydney's Chinatown where I had 3 caricature shops running at that time. I'm so eager to say hello to him and express my grief.

For the time being, let's all keep our heads low. Thank you my friend. Peace.

(The National Sorry Day is an Australian event, held each year on 26 May since 1998, to express regret over the historical mistreatment of Aboriginal peoples. The day was chosen in commemoration of the Bringing Them Home report being handed to the federal government on 26 May 1997. It is not an official holiday, although there have been calls by some Aboriginal leaders to make it one. source: Wikipedia).

My GIF leaks!

2010-07-29T11:10:00.013+10:00

Editorial GIFs

Lately I've been doing animated GIF files which reveal my day job (i.e. doing opinion-editorial cartoons for a Sydney newspaper) and found it energizing and empowering albeit the time-consuming process; but practise helped flatten a steep learning curve. Image above based on op-ed illo in today's Sydney Morning Herald (print & online) with written article by Miranda Devine. Theme was about our new Australian Prime Minister Julia Gillard; in hot water due to "damaging" leaks purportedly coming from her own party!

Like most of you guys out there, I read the news first thing in the morning with my barako coffee sweetened with pure Bathurst honey. Don't know why but my steaming cup buzzes down stress of reading unsettling headlines, both local and international. Then somehow my mind tricks me to comment via a mental op-ed doodle (and for a while trapped in the editorial world of visual commentary).

Ah say, ah say! Expressing ideas in this new digital world is always something of a challenge. See how young (and even master) artists are getting high doodling on their iPads! I like to think that our own body electricity has found its allies with all these electronic gadgets that surround us today. Fear the day that during a power failure we'll all be looking like stranded aliens on earth, dazed and staring at flying saucer to be written off by our Martian insurance firm.

GIF is different (as also to Flash animation). Its limitation is the very challenge to animators, stuff like how to seamlessly loop the animation (call it a poor man's animated short film that plays forever:); or to manipulate time without warping space while considering the message within. I guess I'll be doing more GIF animations as major news headlines come and go and when the winter rain traps me home, where once and poignantly I did a GIF self-portrait (above image, 53 frames at .02 second speed), taking on mental states in peak and in chaos, elements of bright, dark, mean, cool, Christian and Indo-Malay tribal values, a virtual self-imposed limbo where an empirical and digital soul can go through wormholes and play ball with quarks because afterall everything has sense, in its rightful place as mathematically and digitally organized as the Fibonacci sequence and equally luminous as the Golden Ratio.

2010..Year of the Leaks?

First there was that appalling BP oil leak at the Gulf of Mexico which I couldn't resist doing a knee-jerk GIF op-ed. (image below). Glad the CEO was sacked, I just hope the scapegoat-hunting company use him to cap the leak (he'll wedge perfectly owing to his huge ego and lifestyle:) I actually did 2 GIF op-eds about this issue (the first one in an earlier blog entry, 2nd image).

However there was another major leak that sprung and this time it involved the leak master itself..Wiki Leaks! It seems the site is now full of virtual bullet holes.

Accordingly, some Pentagon secret data were leaked out and published in the said site. President Obama bugged by another leak vehemently protested as he believed it endangered troops in US and Allies military operations overseas. Fair enough, so here's my take, playing on the logos of Pentagon and WikiLeaks. (below)

Do you remember a leak that involved design of new iPhone 4? Gizmodo (site that published design prematurely) got into serious trouble despite the site owner volunteering to return the stray phone. Poor guy was treated like a terrorist, roughed up, home raided and computers seized. Did WikiLeaks pick up on that? However karma struck a just chord, (recently) it was found out that iPhone 4's antennae "leaks"!

Oh boy, all these leaks are making me so uncomfortable; so please excuse me while I take one. (Mind you the stem is fine, but with my age I might need to change the washer:)

*Wikileaks is an international organization, based in Sweden,^[1] which publishes anonymous submissions and leaks of otherwise unavailable documents while preserving the anonymity of sources. Its website, launched in 2006, is run by The Sunshine Press. (from Wikipedia)

http://www.smh.com.au/opinion/politics/impressive-but-not-a-good-look-20100728-10vy1.html

LeBron is Le Kabron

2010-07-09T15:19:00.015+10:00

Much has been said about the hero-turned-villain, and..

Poor Cleveland Cavs that nurtured him ever since. Well that's what happens when the athlete becomes bigger than the game itself. In my e-group alone profanities were the order of the day. A day of shame for pro basketball, indeed.
--
Got a CNN article in my inbox today (below) from Filipino columnist Krip Yuson, ardent LeBron fan; to which I responded:

deLeBron'ned Krip:)

agree with author (referring to CNN article below). only comics creators have God-given right to
use our sacred type font and it surprised me how case-sensitive this united font against
it, huh?:) are they serious?

well, Franklin speaking, it's all Gothic to me..and perhaps
D.Gilbert was just being ironic, otherwise his name's Dilbert.
Nike must sorely miss their ol' boy.. the Arial, err. aerial M.Jordan
after the franco-sounding LeBron has done a Trebuchet and jumped over the enemy's
fence and leave the world aghast. tsk tsk, not humanist* at all from his part. he gave clowns a bad name, definitely a comic sans integrity! - cheers, edd

*Trebuchet MS is a humanist sans-serif typeface designed by Vincent Connare; named after the trebuchet, a medieval catapult. The name was inspired by a puzzle question that Connare heard at Microsoft headquarters: "Can you make a trebuchet that could launch a person from main campus to the new consumer campus about a mile away? Mathematically, is it possible and how? Connare "thought that would be a great name for a font that launches words across the Internet" (excerpts from Wikipedia)

Caricature (above) of LeBron James by this blogger published in today's Sydney Morning Herald.

Here's what to do with those unwanted shirts by disappointed fans (at least in Manila:)

---
Cavs owner's letter mocked for Comic Sans font

By John D. Sutter, CNN

July 9, 2010 11:33 a.m. EDT

The Cavaliers owner is being mocked online for using Comic Sans font in a letter to fans about LeBron James' departure.

(CNN) -- Dear computer users: If you're ever going to write a fuming letter, think twice before setting the font to the oh-so-mockable Comic Sans.
Take it from Dan Gilbert, the owner of the Cleveland Cavaliers, the NBA team that lost its star basketball player, LeBron James, on Thursday night.
After Gilbert posted a rant -- in the cutesy Comic Sans typeface -- about James' departure on NBA.com, bloggers, newspaper writers and Twitter pundits lashed back with a collective message that essentially said this:
Unless you're a fourth-grader, or being ironic, or the author of a comic book, or on vacation from the 1990s, never use that typeface.
On Twitter, discussion of Gilbert's font choice briefly trumped the debate about James' move to the Miami Heat, according to the blog TechCrunch, which posted a screen grab of the trending topics from that messaging site.
One of the blog's writers, MG Siegler, says the font faux pas is especially egregious given how much press Gilbert's letter is receiving.
"Normally a staple among six-year olds and grandmothers, Gilbert for some reason decided to use the font to write what will undoubtedly be the most public message he will ever write," he writes. "And it's too bad, because the content of the message itself is quite good -- very juicy. Gilbert's use of quotes, capitalization, and bolded letters makes it very clear just how pissed off he is."
Siegler calls Comic Sans "probably the worst font ever to grace the computer screen."
Comic Sans is the brainchild of Vincent Connare, who created the font while working as a "typographic engineer" at Microsoft in the 1990s. There were primarily two ideas behind the font's origin: Microsoft wanted a font that was more "FUN" than the rest, and comic-book lettering hadn't transferred well from books to the computer screen.
"There was a consistent style used in comics, which was quite unlike the style of lettering you see in newspaper cartoon strips," Connare writes on Microsoft's website dedicated to the font. "I also noticed that many people were inappropriately using drafting lettering in comic speech balloons."
Since the '90s though, Comic Sans has become a mockery on the internet. A movement called "Ban Comic Sans" has been trying to kill the font.
"The typeface has been used in countless contexts from restaurant signage to college exams to medical information," an introductory post on the site bancomicsans.com says.
"These widespread abuses of printed type threaten to erode the very foundations upon which centuries of typographic history are built."
In a CollegeHumor.com video about a fictional "font conference," a guy representing Comic Sans swoops into the final scene, dressed as a boyish superhero in a cape and tights, only to find that all of his friends have already been killed.
"Y'all good? I'm gonna peace out. If anyone needs me, Comic Sans will be over here!" the character says before stepping out of the frame.
Connare is apparently able to maintain a sense of humor about his creation.
"If you love it, you don't know much about typography," he told The Wall Street Journal in 2009, before adding: "If you hate it, you really don't know much about typography, either, and you should get another hobby."
As for Gilbert, the Cavs' owner, the font choice may have served the purpose -- whether intended or not -- of getting his message out to the public.
Stories about the fuming letter on the websites for The Washington Post, ESPN, CBS Sports and Time all mentioned Gilbert's choice of Comic Sans.
"You see, he wrote in Comic Sans so that you would know he's serious," Matt Moore writes on a blog at CBSSports.com.
On a Washington Post blog, Michael Lee writes that Comic Sans only adds to the "ridiculous nature of the evening" on Thursday.

TechCrunch's Siegler, referring to the fonts made up mostly of symbols, said he will "await a LeBron response in Wingdings."

Bee Pee, the Spilling Bee

2010-06-16T17:59:00.071+10:00

What a protracted catastrophe! The Gulf of Mexico oil spill has been gushing out 500,000 gallons of oil a day since April and there's no solution in sight! How long will it take BP to fix it?

Here's an experimental editorial cartoon (above) I made in GIF format. Hopefully the deepsea-robot-savvy James Cameron of "Titanic" fame and the other Cameron, the British PM would be able to find a quick solution to stop earth from hemorrhaging further and start an oily Armageddon.

I recently received an email that scared me bad than any internet virus:

If the engineer’s assessment of the ongoing disaster created by the continuous spewing of oil in the Gulf of Mexico from BP’s collapsed oil rig is accurate, a doomsday scenario is quite evident.

------------ --------- --------- --------- --------- --------- --------- --------- -----

"Heard your mention of the oil disaster in the Gulf of Mexico this morning, and you (and most everyone else except maybe George Noory) are totally missing the boat on how big and bad of a disaster this is.

First fact, the original estimate was about 5,000 gallons of oil a day spilling into the ocean. Now they're saying 200,000 gallons a day. That's over a million gallons of crude oil a week!

I'm an engineer with 25 years of experience. I've worked on some big projects with big machines. Maybe that's why this mess is so clear to me.

First, the BP platform was drilling for what they call deep oil. They go out where the ocean is about 5,000 feet deep and drill another 30,000 feet into the crust of the earth. This it right on the edge of what human technology can do. Well, this time they hit a pocket of oil at such high pressure that it burst all of their safety valves all the way up to the drilling rig and then caused the rig to explode and sink. Take a moment to grasp the import of that. The pressure behind this oil is so high that it destroyed the maximum effort of human science to contain it.

When the rig sank it flipped over and landed on top of the drill hole some 5,000 feet under the ocean.

Now they've got a hole in the ocean floor, 5,000 feet down with a wrecked oil drilling rig

First they have to get the oil rig off the hole to get at it in order to try to cap it. Do you know the level of effort it will take to move that wrecked oil rig, sitting under 5,000 feet of water? That operation alone would take years and hundreds of millions to accomplish. Then, how do you cap that hole in the muddy ocean floor? There just is no way. No way.

The only piece of human technology that might address this is a nuclear bomb. I'm not kidding. If they put a nuke down there in the right spot it might seal up the hole. Nothing short of that will work.

If we can't cap that hole that oil is going to destroy the oceans of the world. It only takes one quart of motor oil to make 250,000 gallons of ocean water toxic to wildlife. Are you starting to get the magnitude of this?

We're so used to our politicians creating false crises to forward their criminal agendas that we aren't recognizing that we're staring straight into possibly the greatest disaster mankind will ever see. Imagine what happens if that oil keeps flowing until it destroys all life in the oceans of this planet. Who knows how big of a reservoir of oil is down there.

Not to mention that the oceans are critical to maintaining the proper oxygen level in the atmosphere for human life.

We're humped. Unless God steps in and fixes this. No human can. You can be sure of that! sitting on top of is spewing 200,000 barrels of oil a day into the ocean. Take a moment and consider that, will you!
---
This one's a Youtube mock video on how not handle a mess. (link sent in by Banggaan friend.)

News links:
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/36800673/ns/us_news-environment/#storyContinued

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/06/15/us/15latest.html

a GIF to President Noynoy (and Others)

2010-06-12T09:29:00.021+10:00

Mabuhay si Pangulong Noynoy! (Long live President Noynoy!) Let us all support him!

Today, June 12, is Philippine Independence Day and so let me dedicate my humble GIF image to the new president of the Philippines, Benigno (Noynoy) Aquino III. In those tropical islands I was born and I could see glimmering lights of new hope behind those coconut trees.

Old school animation was fun (did it in the '70s in Manila) but doing GIF animations is better for the time-consuming process is drastically cut down, thus there's instant satisfaction; i.e. if one has spent enough time in Adobe ImageReady instead of getting animated in a pub. The learning curve is quite steep! Best to attack ImageReady fearlessly, go through a lot of trial and errors (can't break your computer, don't worry!) and emerge bloodied but wiser. Also don't forget to watch GIF tutorials in YouTube (plenty of them!)

Working under Nonoy Marcelo, the first animation clip I did was in 1978, a crazy disco dance sequence included in intro credits of the movie Annie Batungbacal which starred that talented singer, Nora Aunor.

Lately in our Banggaan (collision) Art Group, there were discussions of GIF animations which we've tried years ago inside the group; that was when the software was still quite underdeveloped. I remember a few exchange of images and then the line went dead. There was only but one conclusion: At that time, doing GIF animations is not freaking worth it! Imagine, resulting in a few seconds of animation after spending hours on it? (worse if it gets accidentaly deleted!) It was never palatable when a nanosecond counts while away from your loved one. Doing it was writing Codex Gigas in an underground cell:)

Wel-lah! Nowadays with powerful computers, we like to think we're back with a vengeance:)

GIF means Graphic Interchange Format. Banggaan members are like GIFs, too:) for we exchange graphics consistenly and persistently for years; e.g. like drawings, photos and other media files.

Another one I did for 2 friends who met up for a party, Ed Labadia and Mario Mercado, both of Banggaan. (A bit rough this one, ayayay; was just excited and published too soon to meet a birthday greeting date)

I also did one for Zen Lopez (another Banggera) of Glendale, CA and was former Arts and Culture Commissioner of City of Glendale. She was also an original Bayanihan dancer. She modelled, too and so this is for her, the catwalker. The caricature head was rendered by Mel Vera Cruz, also of Banggaan. We sort of "collide" images in this old Yahoogroup (Est. 1999) which was initiated by artist-writer Alfredo (Ding) Roces.

Here I used a walking animation guide freely available in the internet in stick or simple linear forms. However if patient enough (animation is no joke, one grows whiskers doing it!) one can use a digital camera to take stills of a moving subject using the "consecutive shots" mode. Then those stills could be traced and translated into linear or cartoony lines. Amateur GIF animators (like me) can use them to practise on movement, improvise, manipulate moves, etc. Just add details and fill in colours and Bob's your Uncle. Sooner or later your
friend will ask you to design a GIF animation banner for her website. Could be the start of something "moving"!:)

This one is of Rod Samonte, Banggaan member from Hollywood, California. Caricature by Mel Vera Cruz.

One below is JPEG image to illustrate a poem I wrote for this special day in the Philippines.

Grandkid saw my blog and begged me to make the dragonfly "move" so I had to make a quick one for him; bah, kids! (and look who's talking;-)

Here's the Freedom dragonfly struggling to take off.

June 17 GIF update, another one for fellow Banggero Mario M., inspired by Robert Crumb, comics genius and my underground Zen guru:) back in the '70s in Manila (where his comics were extremely rare). A cartoonist of extreme ideas and modest master teacher of Natural Laws of the Universe through his alter ego Mr. Natural, Mr. Crumb could have written the Desiderata in comics form, be seriously funny and yet delivered the message home. Somehow Mario fitted this character and so I had him metamorphose from Mr. Natural to the supernatural:) Here's for the ol' man burnin' Crumb's mull and poster (below). Based on a single-frame drawing by Robert Crumb found in the internet.

Additional info on GIFs: GIF, short for Graphics Interchange Format is a file format for storing graphical images up to 256 colors. It uses LZW compression which is a lossless compression method. Until the year 2004, this was covered by a patent owned by Unisys and the reason why the PNG file graphic format was invented.
There are two versions of GIF both created by Compuserve. The earlier GIF 87a and the enhanced 89a which stored multiple images (thus allowing animation), and interlacing.
GIF files are probably the most popular on the web being used in logos and any color images with 256 or fewer colors. For images containing text GIF tends to be better than JPG because the files tend to be smaller and JPG files usually have some degree of compression and this can make text blurry.(source:http://cplus.about.com/od/glossar1/g/gif.htm)

Nonoy Marcelo and His Fan

2010-04-01T06:49:00.254+11:00

Was it only the other day? I received a letter that almost vanished among a glossy pile of literature from grocers Coles, Woolies and that electronic Dick Smith. I squinted to read sender's name; it was from Debbie.

In these days of online transactions, snail mails are as rare as elephants in Uluru; well except for the usual junk and those marked: To the resident.

Ned Kelly by Australian painter Sidney Nolan. Image from this site

That day a gem of a letter fell from the heavens and slid through the narrow window of my mailbox that stood guard like an emaciated Ned Kelly under a canopy of eucalyptus trees. I ptyk-ed some ants that crawled around the sweet edges of the stamp.

Inside the envelop were a photocopy of an old letter from late cartoonist Nonoy Marcelo, a photo of him (above) ...

..and a very old Tisoy cartoon strip. I was seized by a benevolent paralysis. A curious-whadda! What's Debbie got to do with Ninong Nonoy? Oh m-a-a-n, I thought, thiz-eez-za gonna be a very interesting day!

Carbon-dating

Curious, I unfolded what seemed to be a satin-coated paper fan with pica-sized fonts of uneven tones, evident of typing ribbon hammered thin; and no Wite-out; it was the opposite of a correction fluid -- perfection solid! However despite all his sincere effort I imagined the typist frustrated and struggling in front of the cumbersome machine. What dilemma! To type or to pen? Keyboard or Indian (ink)? QWERTY o Cajun? (oi, didn't that sound like the title of that Filipino game show hosted by Pepe Pimentel?)

Oh, the nostalgic era of non-electric typewriters where carbon paper ruled, homeworks shared in triplicate during the primordial Facebook; we (and not Wii) were all still truly carbon-based, clerical human beings; but I wonder why, sans carbon paper, we still use the initials CC (Carbon Copy) and BCC (Blind Carbon Copy) in our email? Hmm, maybe that explains why I pencil a drawing in PhotoShop using a rodent.

Besides who wants to add more confusion to the Compose toolbar by using CF (Copy Furnished) or BCF (Bloody Copy Forwarded)?

Sects, Lies and Mimeo

How could I forget the noise barrage spilling out of Typing 101 classrooms? Don't laugh now but although I'm not the type, I did pre-requisite courses on typing and stenography in early college (still can do Gregg shorthand) and I thought I was good. Why? Because PCC was! (now PUP. Hate that acronym:).

A mimeograph machine (above) similar to one at Kalayaan Centre, QC; background: Gigi and this blogger, April 5, 1972

When it was still PCC, we ate Metrocom truncheons for merienda while we disseminated a diarrhea of mimeographed nationalist manifestos. Then the dictator's iron typewriter printed more rights-curtailing EO's that forced the mimeograph machine to go subterranean.

People were caught and tortured. Everyone was under suspicion. Some type of faces were stereotypically branded by the regime's military henchmen. Arrest him! He looks like a Courier ; Let's beat up those Vagabond hippie guys; f--g drug addicts! They're cohorts of those communist Webdings. Hey Sarge! give the water treatment to that sonafabi..h Franklin Gothic, just found out he's chairman of Helveticang Makabayan..at pamangkin pa raw ni Aling Othic, pinsan ni Clip.

No laughing matter that Proclamation 1081 Martial Law crap; the elite ruled out the pica majority that conceded to The New Society euphism; and so The quick brown fox jumped over the lazy docs, while the opposition typed a series of Now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of the party.

Then a good senator, back from exile, was assassinated in an airport tarmac. The bully had crossed the line despite his denials! For whoever did it, it was a big mistake! Hence a united font was formed, workers, students, agricultural workers, sakla operators, the Catholic church and other religious orders howled a series of chants in bold caps (try decoding this) M-H-D-T! M-H-D-T! M-H-D-T!

Today is anniversary of the April 6 noise barrage that hammered the keyboard of the Pambansang Makinilya ("National Typewriter") wearing down the key letters E, D, S and A . The dictator was eventually deposed; escaped while confused and asked himself how and why in Hawaii; and we still wonder what ever happened to that general font called Ver-dana.

One thing I learned from old school keyboards, there's no such thing as a perfect, typewritten letter. To aim for one shall only disrupt the momentum of inspired writing, not to mention a waste-basketful of crumpled A4s.

Call it a draft, like Philippine democracy for example, its Constitutional ink is still wet yet so many are already annoyed by typographical errors and spend the whole Senate/Congress days deliberating on strange issues; What? Katrina Halili who? I don't know but they held the writing implement full of ink and yet let the sharp point scrape the rough and potholed surface of the nation's canvas; thus the nibs twisted and broke and the people peniless. I suspect they had no real inkling about the significance of texture.

There's no hope they say, the country is a bad essay. However I like to think it is a raw narrative of a people that suffered during and after WWII, an inspired writing by an inspired people. It's the typist not the typewriter; the writer not the ink, for heaven's sake! For Andres Bonifacio, any ink would have been fine, even blood.

The story of a nation still rested upon our scholarly typesetters and men/women of letters, the layout and photos are still in transitional editing, relentlessly evolving from a little Twitter entry to a blog to an anecdote to a novella to a novel; from a doodle to a drawing to a painting and so on. The imperfection is the character as the quality of politics evolve, just like the young Filipino democracy; so far away from when it was invented by the ancient Romans in the middle of the fifth century BC.

The calligraphic quill pen was edged out when the typewriter (actually our own, little personal printing press) was born; but the artiste mourned and refused to give in to a mechanical tool except when he had to use one to make official a résumé for that insurance sales job (or else endure the cliche of the starving artist). Nevertheless he still saw a sable brush that painted fonts and symbols.

Free and natural typing could also be like painting in watercolor; where we need not worry about mistakes, letting the pigment-rich water take its course and us not forgetting our mantra: Let there be happy accidents! You'll never know what the next sentence's gonna be. We take care of the richness in color of the message, and the editors and proofreaders take care of the rest. Let them keep their jobs. We've got ours. It's for the good of ink-onomy.

above image from this site

Ah, Remington was Bill Gates then, putting a typewriter in every home just like computers today. In Manila, Claro M. Recto Avenue (the old Azcarraga) was the typing capital of the city, much like today's internet cafes. Did you want your high school essay typewritten but your old typewriter disappeared in a Pasay pawnshop? Well, no worries! Let the typing speed demons do it for you; and you give it to them, one peso per page, honey! Then you'll hear someone murmur from inside "This is really one bad essay, tell that customer guy there's no need to go through all this typing sh--; tell him we multi-task and could make him a nice, "authentic" diploma, complete with dried insect eggs and tattered edges. The Filipino's enterprising artistry was phenomenal. It was a boon to lazy ones; and so Mills & Boon took another meaning in the conceived Third World.

My family in Manila owned an already exhausted Corona typewriter back in the late 50s and God knows I was lulled to sleep by its staccato sound as big sis pounded on it to finish her homework while Mother played her old radio dialled to Hi Lilly, Hi Lo. I miss the bloody thing (the typewriter) and the scenarios that revolved around it. I miss my analogue youth; and my grandfather. Wonder if my grandkids shall miss their iPad youth when they grow white whiskers. If I could I shall provide them a magnifying glass to see the future via the past.

I studied the cartoon strip, there was Debbie's name inside the balloon. Wow, it's like you're on tv when your name gets mentioned by a newspaper cartoonist, you know. You become famous, you dream.. then t-i-i-ng! A tiny bell rang. I swear I heard the old Corona reached the end of the line.

Anyway I stopped reading the letter and put it down as I blew out some stale air. There was guilt. "Ang kay Pedro ay kay Pedro!" (Peter's is Peter's) I thought I heard Ninong mumbled, he bellowed like the sound of a distant didgeridoo.

There was this bit of voyeurism I felt from reading someone else's letter. But hell, it was delicious! I plucked an alibi from thin air..see I was just a proud "sharee" of a proud "sharer", and was wearing Debbie's delightful smile, albeit vicarious. I like to think I was BCC'd in his letter.

Nonoy's M

Who could forget a signature that was seen in daily newspapers by thousands if not millions of Filipinos? There it was, vintage '65; an artwork of a signature where underneath a typewritten Nonoy was a droopy, capital M that hovered like a mothership.

I actually saw it in many ways.. the shadow of an arachnid, a skeleton of the common Filipino kite defrocked by the wind; a simple robotic claw, or a limpid crucifix etched by Matisse but playfully bent by Dali, among others.

Wikipedia images

His M was unique, I haven't seen anyone bold enough to make an M out of a cross and still be recognized as so; unseen even in ancient glyphs. The genesis of his signature was detached and independent; followed by a rollercoasting a-r-c, then a brief pause that quickly climbed to e-l-o punctuated by a mysterious black triangle.The Thinker wrote with spontaneity balanced with calculated "pauses". He was in control.

Wikipedia images except last one

I did detect an opposition against the script's default path which is left to right. Maybe I understood the minor resistance; it was justified..

..after all, the Master was left-handed. He wasn't alone. Dutch engraver-painter Rembrandt was a leftie, too; and English cartoonist Ronald Searle, Umbrian painter-architect Raphael, American cartoonists Pat Oliphant and Matt Groening, Dutch printmaker M.C. Escher, that Florentine polymath Leonardo da Vinci, Swiss painter Paul Klee and English painter and sculptor Paul Hughes and Bavarian-born English painter Hans Holbein and many others.

Graphology

..or the art of handwriting analysis in relation to human psychology isn't part of my portfolio but common sense is a bonus. No need for an Enigma to decode a signature of an open and most welcoming person like Nonoy (in contrast with tightly-written signatures).

Well how do you see his signature? A piece of tangled barbed wire? It's like reading clouds in a cloudless day. There was also my urge to compare his signature to a few European Masters and I discovered some interesting qualities in them.

There was Johan Vermeer (Italian, 1632-1675) who combined V and M, the former made visible by a vertical shaft, a letter within a letter; almost like a visual of a curious event that day when I received a letter within a letter; or..

Edvard Munch (Norwegian, 1863-1944) who perhaps pioneered the haloween font, Playful and scary with a couldn't-care-less attitude. You'd think he used his fingertips to sign his works, drippy and blotchy..

above image from http://www.postershop.co.uk/Simpsons-The/Simpsons-The-Scream-4900914.html

..nightmarish like his "The Scream"; (which perhaps inspired Adobe font Ghouly Solid:). Then there's..

Claude Monet (French, 1840-1926) who had a miserly yet impressionistic signature, his M quite disjointed and fine lines left to imagination. Impressive enough. His t won't dare cross the line and looked like a Bastille hangman's gallow.

Amedeo Modigliani (Italian, 1884-1920) drew laces lazily but oozed with seductive femininity mirrored upon his beautiful paintings of women (but did he ever draw men?); as exciting and titillating as his M.

Henri Matisse (French, 1869-1954) signed with simple, stark visuals, e.g. what seemed to be a chair, a fruit, a crucifix, a pair of asps and a decapitated snake head; respectively and the lot underscored by a sabre. Sacre bleu! Was the Master a swordsman who practised voodoo?:)

Edouard Manet (French, 1832-1883) signed like a complete drunk; definitely high with his Luncheon on the Grass. His M looked like a portion of a swimming pool fence in perspective, followed by letters apart and won't talk to each other, and a t that looked like a farm implement; (better if he used a good writing implement but at that time the French hasn't invented Bic:).

You are what you ink

Consider this, the signature signified finality of a creation, whether an artwork or a document. It is a handwritten commitment to claim intellectual ownership and take full responsibility of a literary or visual expression. In essence, the signature is the person.

Merely by chance, the quality of a signature I think is akin to the quality of character of the person. A thumbmark is only evidentiary, but not the character. Hence, what gives the person character is quality itself. Well there are mysterious signatures made by mysterious people, so then..beware of the Nigerian email scam!

Take for example the signature of a wily scammer (above image). He signed his name with initials that read FEMS (no, that guy wasn't gay) with a breathtaking F, a noodly E, an M that looked like a dead mattress spring; and a sexy S. Fine, but then he crossed them all out, as if he made a grave mistake. Oh well, typical of leader guys who started good and ended bad. Marcos' M was loopy like a stack of gold coins that connected to a distant S, while all the letters in between magically disappeared; exactly what happened to the contents of the Philippine treasury! (And you wonder what that S stood for; Switzerland of course!:)

Now that he's gone and only left us dire consequences of his actions, he must now be at peace, still looking up the heavens and wondering why he's not up there, his vision still glazed behind the dynamite-induced 3D glasses he seemed to be wearing (above image).

Artists! Those vindictive guys must be deconstructionists and perhaps used C4 (not C5, that's Villar's) to blow up an artwork to create another artwork. Amazing, get me off this planet.

Let's push the envelope further; what if he borrowed Nonoy's signature M and break all its four legs so as to avoid copyright laws? It truly looked awful. Oh well, that's typical again.

Codes and crossword puzzles I find generally entertaining..or perhaps I'm just reading too many Dan Brown books, but lines, glyphs and symbols do amuse the child in me.

Pero cuidao, Nonoy Marcelo's signature in motion could look as dangerous as an arrow; a yin-yang of a projectile, feathery at one end of an undulating stem that joined to a solid arrowhead! Perfect.

People familiar with his satirical drawings saw an arrow shanked into the gut of a Kevlar-wrapped public opinion that for decades was cruelly moulded and mauled by a vicious dictatorship. However the quill didn't fly a straight line but instead danced. It scanned and wove around the target and richocheted with mocking irreverence; poked 'til it hurt, penetrated and ignited the gas inside until the airbag collapsed.

Once I playfully meditated on his signature, the letter o bigger than the Swiss atom collider, and in full was larger than the ancient Nazca lines; and embossed high like the Cordilleras (op kors, bosing eh:) in a dry patch of the Filipino psyche which forever prayed to a cloudless but gray sky for that invigorating and cleansing rainwater of truth and social justice; moving through the sounds of the Pinikpikan band; a cranial raindance sans human sacrifice. His pen was a soulful earthmover; and if all his works were laid end-to-end, it would be more breathtaking from the highest hot air balloon.

If a computer were to read his signature, it would be M arc e l o∆ , that's why I didn't use the OCR (Optical Character Recognition) software to convert the letter into Word. It could have just sanitized it, ignored amusing elements(e.g. strikeovers) that truly made his typewritten letter funny, rich and unique. One thing for sure, the eccentric cartoonist hated the typewriter keyboard. Why, he'd rather use his left foot!

And so that was the befuddling connection. Debbie was a pioneer comic strip fan of Nonoy who dared write him a letter and that she deserved a response, the symbiosis between the artist and his audience was complete.

Nonoy's letter began:

Dear Debbie,

I ain't much good in writing letters or typing one, but in the absence of a stupid ballpen,

and with the pressure of guilt for not answering you sooner, ugh!

wrong spacing already!...(and the rest you have to read by clicking image below)

I never really knew my Ninong so well, he rarely talked, he only did. My drawing skill, I believed, was my only passport into his hectic editorial and strip cartooning life but it allowed me to observe a man without judgment. Mention his name and I'm instantly plonked back to a raging whitewater of animated images and emotions; back in his animation studio in Scout Morato. The ambient sounds and images were still vivid, like the closing doors of his low, blue sports MG that had just parked off street. It took some time for him to import it from New York, and the damn thing often overheated in Manila's stop-and-go traffic; nevertheless he definitely added cool to the streets.

A Polaroid photo of (L to R) Nonoy with Sonny, Tan Lung, this blogger & Pandy. (c.78)

Next was the heavy clicking of leather boots that almost swallowed the ends of his tight leather jeans, the sound of striking matches to light up his ciggies, shirt tucked in but only in front (now that's a fashion statement that caught on in the 90s),disheveled hair, wide, insomniac eyes that often caught me off guard when his lips quibbled: "Edd, pakigawa nga ako ng dance study sa animation intro ng Annie Batumbakal. Yung mga contributors sa Bukol Mag, oks na ba? Sa'n yung kay Rox Lee? Yung kay Benjo?" (Edd, can you please do me a draft of an animation dance for a movie's intro? What about our Bukol (his version of Mad Magazine)? Anything from our contributors yet?")

What joy it was working in his projects and they're all of importance.Why so? Because cartooning lent a significant part in Filipino culture. It's a powerful genre when wielded by a very witty and skilled artist. Nonoy raised the bar of Filipino cartooning. He was feverishly fluent, not affluent.

Debbie gave me permission to have the letter featured and may I share it with you. It wasn't email, it didn't exist in the internet until now. It was organic and tactile. It was..err..Da Real Makoy! But what's the big deal? Because the letter was dated July 22, 1965, still a dozen years before I finally met the man!

High Times

It was year I painted a mural backdrop for our high school play in Araullo; and I was also actor villain of Mir-i-nisa! How can I forget? That was year my eldest sister set to emigrate to the United States, to work in Washington. Gee, sis was smart. She finished as a magna cum laude and easily got a job overseas.

Back cover of The Wall (Araullo '65-'66)

Old calendar leaves flipped in reverse quicker than the movie scenes of Benjamin Button. I considered myself fortunate among hundreds of students for I was selected as artist for our high school pulp (The Wall/Ang Moog of Araullo High). Looking back at my drawings I realized they were poorly-drawn. I wanted to return and redraw those jagged, unconfident lines and redesign the whole thing; but gee whiz, they looked good at the time.

Inside the nucleic core of my subconscious I ached to become a real cartoonist. A professional, mentalist clown that could draw and quarter misbehaving targets.

Nonoy Marcelo often impregnated his comic strip balloons with sarcastic puns and hip, canto lingo most of which made the mainstream, e.g. 'Pinas. His written articles made me fumble for the dictionary yet in context were comprehensible in its written imagery.

I dreamed to meet the man one day. It happened in 1977 when he welcomed me to be part of his animation team and became one of his comics editors. There were times we were left together working into the middle of the night at his Ermita studio, the room full of smoke and uncertainties but the sun certainly shone the next day. He left me alone tho', and I liked it. He did his stuff, I did mine; so who was saying I was his prodigy? Nothing can be further from the tru..hang on; there is a subtle ring of truth there because even before I met him I was already his prodigy, a great comics fan.

Nonoy wanted me to have my own signature. I had my own pen and he only provided the paper and ink. He never interfered and had often complimented my work with a strange snigger. I felt proud.

In November 1979, he became my marital godfather after a 10-year engagement to Virginia (Gigi) Cristobal. He was assisted by his close friends Pandy Aviado and Boy Rodriguez, Jr. It was the wife of Primitivo Mijares who wedded us. Later that year we arrived in Australia. In 1987 Virginia succumbed to breast cancer. My Ninong was in sorrow upon hearing the tragic news. I died, too.

cover of Ikabod book sent to me by Ninong Nonoy in 1985

Ninong's handwritten message on first page of my Ikabod copy.

Sorry I've drifted again. Anyway Debbie must have been delighted by the letter. Why, she had kept it for 45 years! Precious. I've always believed time is the real investment.

But what minutes! Count them by sensation, and not by calendars, and each moment is a day. tweeted Benjamin Disraeli; and it was another Benjamin (Ben) Razon of Oarhouse (Ermita) who, a few years ago, introduced me to Debbie who was in Manila at that time for a photographic exhibit.

Debbie, the Tisoy fan and myself are of the same age now, both Australians. My stride leans over the hill towards the east because I still nurture a single aorta of my heart healthy..keeping it fat and nicotine-free because it is linked to a nation of islands and its hardworking and sunburnt, noble people. How lucky we are for our lives were touched by a beautiful human being. Why did he have to leave so prematurely?

Huling Ptyk

It was so early, the cockatoos outside were noisy and rig trucks were just crawling along Sunnyholt Road. The barako coffee was just brewing as I slowly opened my Hotmail inbox. Iyak ako nang ibalita sa akin ni Pandy (I cried when Pandy broke the news).

On the sad day of October 22, 2002 Nonoy Marcelo passed away. Many people were left in shock and sorrow; newspaper editors slowly put down their eyeglasses to dry up little specks of diamonds in the corners of their eyes. Such an untimely death for a uniquely-gifted person.

Close friends and circles who knew him were restless and dejected; the vacuum left a gaping hole of crossed bones, his legacy of works hung in space like jagged, broken diamond meteorites; the links in the internet address bar broken and corrupted; Error 404! Something's wrong; what injustice!..

Huling Ptyk (Da Art of Nonoy Marcelo) book cover

..until a team of friends came up a few years later with a beautiful tribute book initiated by Sylvia Mayuga, together with Pandy Aviado and son Dario Marcelo, Krip Yuson among many others including national artist BenCab.

The book's title is Huling Ptyk, Da Art of Nonoy Marcelo. (Yey!.and har-har, I got two copies that I jealously guard, one from Pandy and the other a gift from Ding Roces. (Oh, readers, don't be jealous, the book has always been available online; I'm sure it will add pride to your little but sensible library, Google it!).

(above image) A scanned reproduction of detail in Huling Ptyk, p.40

The book is packed full of his drawings including a few specimens of Plain Folks (his spot cartoon in the Daily Mirror of early 60s ) and selected samples of..

... vintage Tisoy from 1963, Ikabod strips, editorial cartoons, caricatures and drawings he did until early Y2K.

Thanks to Debbie for sharing Nonoy Marcelo's letter (Deborah-Ruiz Wall is her full name). She arrived in Australia with husband David in 1974 and then later established a succesful teaching career.

Caricature feature of Debbie I did for Bayanihan News

I've featured her in my column published in Bayanihan, a local newpaper (above image) about 5 years ago. Debbie is one hyperactive and artistic community leader and has deeply integrated in Australian Aboriginal communities with the hope of helping and learning from them. I'm sure she'll also be able to find and inspire a rare and witty Nonoy Marcelo amongst the indigenious communities in Australia, maybe a little boy who could write and draw; and perhaps one day become prime minister of this land, able to hold an emu quill pen or a Mac keyboard to help rectify the social injustices of the nightmarish past. It's a Brand New Dae, spelling out a new found hope.

The aboriginal people believe in what they call Altjeringa or Dreamtime, and so he might have the potential to enrich it with his life's spiritual sketches; and if ever that little boy signed his name with an X like Nonoy, then it would herald a new Southern Cross.

In 2004 she made proud the Filipinos in Australia when she was awarded an OAM (Order of Australia Medal) by the Australian Commonwealth Government for her selfless work in the community, touching on social justice, reconciliation and multiculturalism. (More info here about Debbie)

After a few years, I met again Debbie when she invited us to her birthday party held in a Thai restaurant where I've tasted the best tom yum. My partner and I offered her a song, Noong Unang Panahon (Long time ago) written by Bienvenido Lumbrera, Philippine National Artist. Alfredo (Ding) Roces sent me photos he took during the event. (images below)

With my partner Menchie playing for the celebrant.

Debbie putting out the big fire!:)

Irene Roces with Debbie and Tessie Tomas and friends who did a cultural dance.

I've discoursed enough; remember, you are your signature; and I better redesign mine after you've encashed that cheque:)

Yesterday and Forever I'll be chanting NONOY! NONOY! NONOY!..for there is Hope;

Today I cry NOYNOY! NOYNOY! NOYNOY! ..for there is hope; and that added Y is not and won't be a typographical error.

Hand me that Ball!

2010-03-11T09:51:00.028+11:00

Handball? What's that? For a guy like me who grew up in Manila it was a game using a skinned tennis ball (yes, it's often black underneath the fluro-green skin, much like a defeathered silky chook).

What about the racquets? Err..what racquets?

It wasn't like badminton or tennis. During that time (early 60s) racquets are expensive and unaffordable to us jobless Pasay/Manila teens. But we used a coping saw! What? To cut open the tennis ball? No, silly..to cut out round pieces of plywood for paddles; and for that velcro effect, we used strips of tyre interior to squeeze tight our playing hand onto the paddle (yey, a handle-less table tennis racket).

We hit the ball hard against any house or street wall pretending we're pelota or jai-alai players.

Pasay City firemen killed time playing this kind of handball daily (of course between calls of duty). It's a fast game and required enormous playing skill, similar to squash (which I played regularly at Ken Hiscoe's gym at Riley St. in the 80s ).

Arriving in Australia in 1979 I didn't have a clue that handball was being played here since 1923, attributed to the works of the Christian Brothers' Colleges, and mainly played in Victoria,

S. Australia and NSW. The brothers must have been bored using paddles and decided to get rid of them. However the ball is of a different kind, stitched leather but smaller than a soccer ball; and rules played much like one.

And so we now have the Australian Handball Federation. You wanna play handball? Well you gotta register first, mate, to relish the game (back in 1970, there were only 1,000 registered handball players among state associations). It's not as popular as cricket and footy, but hey the game is fast catching on.

And who's one famous handball player today representing Australia in international cups? Bevan Calvert, a Filipino-Australian! (above caricature)

Hooray for Bevan, son of friend Violi Calvert. Last year I interviewed Bevan and was about to feature him in this humble blog but things just got too busy and had to visit Manila. Bevan, since that interview (below) has made a lot of winning scores for Australia.

He's no turkey and is part of the Australian Men's Handball team to play in the historic Gallipoli Tri-Nations Tournament. Recently Bevan played in the German team and was top scorer, earning 5 goals.

I'm proud of Bevan, feel like he's my handball spirit extension.

Lest We Forget, here's announcement from AHF:

GALLIPOLI MEN'S TEAM SELECTION FINALISED

The Australian Handball Federation [AHF] is pleased to announce that the selection of players comprising the National Men's Team to participate in the historic Gallipoli Tri Nations Tournament has been formalised. The Gallipoli Tri Nations Tournament which is being sponsored by the Turkish Handball Federation, will be held in the city of Canakkale.Turkey during 21 st - 24th April 2010. This significant event aims to honour the unique friendship forged between Australia, Turkey and New Zealand, on the battlefields of Gallipoli. The tournament is designed to take the special relationship formed during the war in 1915 to a battle of the sporting kind. The tournament gives the Turkish, New Zealand and Australian handball teams the opportunity to pay tribute to the soldiers who lost their lives in the battle in 1915 and gain a better appreciation of the sacrifices the soldiers made on their country's behalf. The Australian Team will promote the legacy of our forefathers, their values and the fighting spirit Australians are known for. The players will not only be representing Australia in a challenging sport event, but will also be taking part in honouring a significant and sacred period of our history.

This blogger's interview with Bevan:

- why play handball?

At the beginning I started playing handball just for something different. But I instantly felt in love with the sport. It combines so many skills that are needed for other sports. Its fastest land sport (after ice hockey) and very physical.

- what's future of handball in Oz?

At the moment we are a very low key sport in Australia, but it is the hope that one day we can build ourselves into a major sport. Perhaps not as big as the football codes but have a major following within the Australian community.

- how fit should one be to play handball?

One needs to be in quite good overall shape. There is no specific build type for handball. Big muscular players are just as useful as smaller toned players. But all players must have strong agility for explosive movements and tough upper body strength.

- proud of your Pinoy connection?

Of course! I am thankful for my heritage and hope my efforts can inspire many other pinoy athletes to excel in their chosen field.

- your dream?

My dream is to be a known player within the World handball stage. To be a professional player within the strong liga teams in Europe and to help Australia raise its status as a handballing nation, even maybe to another Olympic spot.

- something to tell the youth in our Fil-Aus community?

Dare to dream. Don’t let anyone tell you that your dreams aren’t worth chasing or are impossible to achieve.

Phoops! (aka Photo-Bombing)

2010-02-25T09:11:00.101+11:00

There's a new internet posting craze called photo bombing. Allow me to contrive phoops (photo-oops) or plain foops instead of photo-bombing (well, you know in these days of angst, one can't be too careful using those kind of words..

..specially in airports and other public places).

Some describe it as the fine art of ruining an otherwise happy or serious photo. Plenty of websites around (links below) showing hundreds of phoops.

Even the newspaper I work for has featured a link to a vast collection thus exposing closet clowns (could be you or me, and I wonder about the psychology of it). Some were set up, others accidental or annoyingly spontaneous.

Zeitgeist digital cameras today have often a problem called shutter lag. It's when you push the trigger and then there's one or half-a-second delay before the actual shot registers.

In this short but vast window of lag, trust that a comedian shall flash into the frame quicker than a cobra's spit.

Mind you, not only people get involved; even animals! (and obviously it'd be hard to set them up to do strange facial expressions) thus..priceless.

There are times it's the camera guy to blame for his phoops which could easily be rectified by changing the capture angle to exempt the offending party (but sometimes we just get so overwhelmed by the foreground that we forget about the background!)

Of course unlike old SLRs that blurred out the background, the depth of field of today's digital cameras are so good that even so you failed to notice that orang pick his nose high up that distant tree (may call the condition selective blindness) while you focus on a human being prodding a chained sunbear to dance. It's now easier to discern what's fuzzy and not; what's funny and not.

I've also observed that the hilarity of phoops beats the Photoshop-ped ones, a difference between staged and unstaged.

Sometimes a reader is forced to scan a photo to discover the punchline, then breaks into an exhilirating, mental or aural snigger.

Ahh, laughter, it's everyone's Mittel der Wahl.

On the visceral side of things, I often wonder what triggers and launches normal people into projectiles of idiocy and thus "ruin" an intended solemn or happy picture.

Often these guys drift into instant mind games and his/her raison detre hoping that the phoops shall only be seen by friends, oblivious to millions of web photo voyeurs. (but then it's too late for good phoops shall certainly proliferate!:)

Could it be allied to the mental state of a road rager? i.e. when suddenly Mr. Hyde takes over the wheels screaming "Struth, that driver just gave me the finger, huh? Okay ya bast..".. and then Snap!.there's your touristy photo, so sweetly innocent looking, so totally unaware of a toll-free, road-raging bicycle guy hugging the post!

During the age of expensive films, when every Ektachrome frame counts for most paupers like me, it was a rule to diligently plan and make the best out of a single shot;

..and when an intruder becomes part we howl in protest, wanting badly to divide his head with a machete after ruining a nice Mamiya-taken photograph.

The violence fitted the crime!:)

In this digital age we commonly hear "Oh com'on, the funny guy just needed attention, drop the rude digit and take another shot. Omm, I like your Omnia!"

Well aside from the interloper's pernicious intent to earn laugh points, it may also be a hint of jealousy..

..a clue of a cloak-and-dagger relationship, a harmless grandstanding or a moment of insanity ensuing the culprit shall hassle the camera guy to email him a copy of the shot which he'll later post to a social site. A pubescent premeditation completely opposite to that of Ansel Adam's photographic intent (and way before his namesake became a brand for prophylactics).

Pero no importa whatever country you're in, a new humaine - photographique phénomène was born and that probably started after the Daguerreotype and Wet-Plate era were edged out by the smaller and handheld Kodak Brownie and instant-print Polaroid.

Definitely a new age of odd fun has dawned much like aerosol cans giving birth to graffiti tags, digital miles away from the ancient, funereal portrait postures of Grant Wood's American Gothic, ..

..an era when black and white grimace were cheered up by airbrushed colours. Technology shall save (or ruin:) the day!

Ironically the faux pas is also the very reason they get published in the internet;

and thank God it's only for clean fun and never malicious.

Rest assured these animals will jump into every photo opportunity as soon as you drop your guard.

(Okay guys, I know you got plenty of 'em phoops in your hard drive and planning to delete them. Well don't! Dig into your photo archives and send a gem or two to me.

more funny photos here (and where most of these phoops were seen:)

http://photo-bombers.com/

http://www.triplem.com.au/sydney/funny-stuff/photos/photo-bombing

The State Witness

2009-11-26T09:01:00.011+11:00

Above image is from my little red notebook. Four days have passed since that shocking news of political killings in Maguindanao and up to now no arrests have yet been made. The massacre of 57 which included 13 journalists and innocent civilians was indeed a very dark day in Philippine history.

related link: Reporters Sans Frontiers

Justice for all the victims! Stop Killing Journalists!

Q: What was the ratio of killers to victims?

A: A'pat-to-one

Pacman vs Cotto, a Graphic Analysis:)

2009-11-16T20:19:00.007+11:00

In an interview after his devastating loss to Filipino boxer Manny Pacquiao, Cotto said: "I didn't know from where the punches were coming!"

Bad syntax or bad luck I'd like to offer Miguel Cotto (for him to trace back where those punches came from:) some graphics I've superimposed on photos sent in by friends and those found in the net.

Thanks Claro, guys!

Seven belts ain't that much too heavy for the Pacman, is it?;-)
Thank you, Mr. Cotto, you're a fine warrior and I salute you.

Mabuhay ka Manny! Mabuhay ang Pinoy!

Joey Albert & Norman Mitchell in Sydney

2009-11-10T10:21:00.013+11:00

Caricature feature
It was typhoon-friendly Manila a few weeks ago, now it's good to be back in rainy Sydney despite missing that rare duststorm which left a strange layer of dust all over the guitars and piano.

It seemed I was only 7 days away from weather disturbances from here and there. A week after touching down Manila, typhoon Ondoy's big flood sunk Marikina and suburbs. I was staying in Pasay where it was half-a-femur deep. The water receded after a week and so as originally planned, we (family) were ready to scale up Baguio to see BenCab and his museum. However we procrastinated because of typhoon Pepeng and decided not to. That same week Pepeng assaulted the Pine City and caused a lot of havoc and fatalities. In Kennon Rd alone there were 80 landslides that trapped a lot of tourists. Then only a week after I left Manila all flights were cancelled because of typhoon Santi.

It's all over now that I'm in Sydney's arms but it's kind of hilarious to think that typhoons are following me, (this time the entertainment kind) so here are caricatures of two talented guests, Joey Albert and Norman Mitchell who were promised to blow Sydney away. They are being brought here by Apo Jim Paredes who seems not to run out of talented friends.

Well, lucky us Sydneysiders; Joey is a fine singer who has received Dreamgirl Filipina, Tinig and Awit awards and made famous the song "Iisa Pa Lamang".

I asked Joey:

1-Why Sydney?

an answered prayer... thanks to Jim Paredes

2-inspiration?

my children... my family... my music... my God.

3-Dreams?

"Carnegie Hall Presents Joey Albert and the New York Philharmonic Orchestra"

4-Filipinos?

worth sacrificing for... have the greatest sense of humor and the greatest sense of hope...

5-Filipinos abroad?

hardworking... integrate well... should all acquire dual citizenship so they can all vote and get corrupt politicians out of government...

Apo Jim assured us "of a night of lovely singing and the 'laughingest' night of your life. Joey Albert will serenade you with her timeless hits like 'Tell me', "I remember the boy", 'Minsan pa', 'Yakapin mo ako', 'Larger than life', 'Points of view', 'Ikaw lang ang mamahalin', and many others. Joey has performed with the APO on many tours and each time, she delivers to her crowd with grace, generosity, charm and feeling. What can I say? They simply fall in love with her each time!.."

Visit Joey's site: http://www.joeyalbert.com/

Norman Mitchell (above), is a stand-up comedian and musician and is special guest of the concert. I asked him, too:

-why Sydney? to bring happiness to my fellow kababayan, give them a good laugh..

-inspiration? my family and my 2 grandson.

-dreams? good health for me and for my family..more blessings.

-Filipinos? to have a very good leader,good economy.

-Filipinos abroad? to be with their loved one's, that they will not have to leave the country just to have a good life.

Here's more good words from Jim .. "Norman Mitchell will show his uber talent in comedy that has earned him the fear and respect of many established artists he has performed with. My APO friends and I have performed with Norman in the many shows and we know that we better be in top form when he fronts for us because he can outshine us if we are not careful! I have watched him many times and have laughed so much my tummy and jaws actually hurt. To me, he is the funniest comedian in Philippine entertainment."

Okay guys, don't miss Joey and Norman. Should be a fun night. I'm also here to help friend/neighbour Apo Jim spread the word. No worries, mate!

Details here about the concert: http://haringliwanag.pansitan.net/?p=895

Pinoy Chopper in Sydney

2009-09-08T12:05:00.110+10:00

Alwin Reamillo's Thuringowa Helicopter

Alas, half a lifetime spent in NSW, Australia and I never had a chance to meet him. He migrated to Western Australia in 1995. (Is Fremantle really that far away from Sydney?)

I'm sure most of you reader guys are in FaceBook, and yes I met Alwin there when he "Walled" me and asked if I was from Sydney (He's FB friend of a friend of a friend just like most of us:) Marami akong kaFBgan (I have many FB friends:)

Since that virtual handshake I asked Alwin to come visit me in Sydney and so he caught the train for an hour ride to my home studio.

It was quite surreal for me to find him just a few days later beating my drum set at home, jamming with muso friends and..

..crashing in for the night; and then a passenger in my ancient Merc (driven by good partner who just needed a nice Annie Lennox Pershing cap and in a sleek, white uniform)..

.. to be just in time for my Cartoon Talk for the Filipino Sydney Press Group organised by Jimmy Pimentel.
I also did caricatures of those who attended (photo collage by Menchie Maneze)

His name is Alwin Reamillo, 45, son of a Filipino inventor and grand piano maker.

He's currently in Sydney for his exhibition at the Museum of Contemporary Art.

He whirred in town to rebirth a helicopter that triggered a dialogue with my intrigued son.

A helicopter?

Yes, a chopper.
Does it fly?

No.

Why not?

Well it's just made of bamboo, rattan, crabshells, Hill's Hoist, ropes, etc.

Are you pulling my leg?

No; it doesn't fly because it is installed.

Installed? Like a washing machine?

Near but not quite, unless you're Duchamp.

Let me explain, it's just symbolic, a thing that looks like a helicopter.

It is called installation art, and as defined, it could be site-specific, 3-dimensional and intended to transform one's perception about an interior space (exterior interventions are called Land art). It has a statement to say, maybe a story, a dream, a concept and often embedded with emotions the creator would like to share.

Alwin told me of the news that he has an exhibit at the MCA. He has lived in Western Australia since 1995 and did a lot of installation art projects in Australia initially as an Arts Exchange student in Perth in 1992.

He also had exhibits in the Philippines and several other countries.

He seemed to be a very energetic guy with rotor blades that spun and slashed the air around him.

I also interviewed him for Radio Sandigan and from it I learned about his beloved Thuringowa Helicopter Project.

Of course I was intrigued. He is kindred spirit and his works echo old craftsmanship patterned to contemporary objects and concepts.

Alwin likes to call his projects social sculptures and are collaborative.

He enjoins different indigenous communities to take part in the creative process while unselfishly sharing his skills to delighted participants.

The exhibit will be up until the 11th of November so don't miss Alwin's Thuringowa Helicopter Project at the Museum of Contemporary Art!

Here's a very informative interview given by Alwin to Asiart Archive (photos not part of interview):

Diaaalogue editor, Susan Acret spoke with West-Australian-based Filipino artist Alwin Reamillo about his collaborative works and social sculptures; his peripatetic life and philosophical journeys.

Susan Acret: You have lived in Perth, Western Australia, since 1995. Can you tell us something about your decision to move from the Philippines to Australia?

Alwin Reamillo : I first came to Perth in 1992 to take part in the Artist Regional Exchange (ARX3), where I met my former partner, Australian artist Juliet Lea. Juliet was also a participating artist in the event.

We collaborated on many projects and called our collaborative art/life partnership Reamillo & Juliet. As we were to become parents, the decision to move to Western Australia became a practical option. As a growing multicultural society, Australia could provide a good and safe environment for a young family. As practicing artists, Perth also seemed to provide opportunities for creative work.

S.A: Has arts infrastructure and opportunities for artists in the Philippines improved since you left?

A.R: I’m not quite sure if things have improved significantly. Before I left the country, I was based up north in Baguio City. The early 1990s was an exciting time to be living and working there. There was a vibrant artist community, the Baguio Arts Guild, which was lead mostly by established senior artists who had relocated there from elsewhere. While this small community of artists was already active in the mid 1980s, it was really in the next decade that it blossomed. Many acknowledge that it was the 7.8 earthquake that hit Baguio in 1990 which really consolidated the group. This tragic event would catalyse the creative energies of the arts community, prompting the artists to take charge in organizing themselves to set up soup kitchens, music events, art exhibitions and workshops for traumatized kids, etc. The Baguio Arts Festival (BAF) was born out this tragedy and it was to develop as an international arts festival, becoming a major venue for Filipino contemporary art. It has significantly rejuvenated the local tourism industry and attracted international curators and visitors to the city. I mention this because it is one indicator of the changing attitudes at the time, a collective response to bureaucratic lethargy and chronic government inaction.

S.A: You’ve participated in many exhibitions in Australia and the Philippines, and in a number of other Asian countries. Can you tell us about the joys and challenges involved in constantly working in different cultures and environments? Is your work a means of working through the journeys you make in life?

A.R: I’ve always been interested in travelling to different places and to experience and learn more about the diversity of cultures. My artistic practice is fundamentally grounded in understanding the dynamics of trans-cultural movement and mobility and how art can shape new ways of thinking.

A great number of my conceptual works deal with building collaborative sculptures that allow movement, dialogue and exchange in different cultural contexts and meeting and engaging with people. I guess you could say that I like the sense of anticipation and uncertainty in encountering the unknown. And the various challenges and, perhaps quite unexpected realisations that come about as I am forced to adapt to the communities and contexts I find myself within.

One always gains a new perspective in every cultural encounter. One also experiences a heightened awareness of one’s self in a context of difference, but this sense of antagonism that arises doesn’t necessarily remain fixed; through constant engagement one soon realizes that there are many more commonalities that differences.

Ideas of travel, migration or movement are reflected in my play on the relationships of meaning generated in terms such as craft, or vessel, or vehicle. Craft referring to a process of making a creative form of some sort, but also referring to sea/water vessels. I create works that are vessels, vehicles, or crafts, fusing these literal meanings or states with these alternative references. The art-cars or helicopters are vehicles, quite literally in the form they take, but also become vessels of culture, and projects that mobilize communities, becoming vehicles of change.

S.A: I’ve read you describe your work as ‘social sculpture’. Your works are collaborative and involve working with local communities. Can you talk about the processes involved in creating such work?

A.R: I started borrowing this Beuysian term ‘social sculpture’ when I was a young art teacher at the Philippine High School for the Arts (PHSA). There was a book on Joseph Beuys in the school library, which stood out in the visual arts section among books on more traditional painters and painting. Nobody seemed interested in borrowing the book but I found his multi-disciplinary approach as an artist/educator/activist quite appealing. Beuys’ radical notion of ‘sculpture as an evolutionary process — everyone is an artist’ — had a profound impact on my thinking. The notion that any individual has the potential to be a truly empowered, creative and productive being and thus can participate in the shaping of human society; this idea of creative empowerment through active participation in society appealed to me, given the kind of uneven society we have in the Philippines.

Social sculpture emerges out of a cultural context of engagement, it is dialogical, immersive, and participatory. The artist’s role is pivotally hinged on his capacity as facilitator. For the past 7 years I have been involved in initiating cross-cultural collaborative projects in various contexts, mostly in the shape of large-scale sculptures. I now call these cross-cultural bayanihan projects.

S.A: Can you explain the meaning of the Filipino word bayanihan in this context?

A.R: Well, the popular usage of the word generally refers to the traditional practice of community group work. Traditionally referring to a community’s coming together to physically relocate/lift a family’s bamboo/wooden house in rural Philippines. Bayanihan has more recently been used to promote a positivist image of Filipino culture and has circulated in the national imagination. As we become more urbanized or upwardly mobile we tend to lose the sense of community spirit in the meaning. In relation to my practice, I aim to reinvigorate the more traditional meaning of the term, whereby I actually try to generate a situation of collective action to achieve a common goal. This is directly related to the voluntary group work I hope to involve in the creation of the projects. Through the process of collaboratively creating an artwork, the sense of community spirit begins to emerge.

S.A: Your father was a piano maker whose company operated for more than 30 years and was the only manufacturer of grand pianos in Philippines, until the company closed in 1997. For the Mang Emo + Mang-himo Grand Piano Project you found the company’s original craftsmen and re-established the company in 2007. Can you tell us about this project? And also about the title?

A.R: The Mang Emo + Mag-himo Grand Piano Project (ME+MHGPP) initially began in 2005, to commemorate the 20 years that had past since my father’s death. It was conceived as a conceptual portrait of a gifted but unsung piano maker. Decimo Zabala Reamillo, or Mang Emo as he was fondly called, was the primary maker, inventor and creative backbone of the Javincello + Company, maker of Wittemberg Pianos, a company he co-founded in 1961 with his brother Cervantes and nephew Marciano Reamillo Jacela.

Looking back, I think he was an artist who dedicated himself to his art and craft more than anything else. Through the years, the company established its reputation as a leading maker of quality upright pianos in the Philippines and the only maker of grand pianos. The company has probably produced around 2000 upright pianos. The production line of grand pianos came later in the early1980s. When Mang Emo passed away in 1985, Javincello & Company continued with its operation and managed to sustain the production of upright pianos, though the quality of the instruments began to decline. When the country was hit by the Asian financial crisis the company ceased its operation.

To develop the project I had to track down three of the former piano technicians who worked with Mang Emo: Jaime Pastorfide, who was my father’s technical assistant; Rabino Sabas, a master carpenter; and Tranquilino Tosio, our varnisher. They had been forced to abandon their professions as skilled crafts people and take up jobs in street food stalls or industries such as construction or cabinet making.

The piano for my work was made from remnant structural parts of the last grand piano unit that was left unfinished when the company closed down: a cast-iron plate/frame, a wooden backpost and lyre pedal and a leg. That was it. We were lucky to find a 1989 Wittemberg parlour grand at PHSA, which the school loaned us for a month so we could use it as a template model for new measurements. As we had to start from scratch, it was really amazing to see the piano makers improvise with what was available. From the old Wittemberg grand, I retraced and re measured the dimensions/specifications of the keys and had the whole action and keyboard fabricated in Japan. The piano action was fabricated by the company’s former supplier, Watanabe Musical Instruments in Hamamatsu.

The project title included the word Mag-himo, a word from the Waray language, my parents’ first language and spoken in eastern Visayas in Central Philippines. Mag-himo means to make, to create, to craft, which I used to emphasize what my father’s memory meant for me: his passion as a creative maker and his ability to bring people to work together to craft instruments that create beautiful music. This project was a way of paying tribute, not only to his creative spirit, but also to the unsung makers from our family workshop.

S.A: I understand that the Piano project is an ongoing one that has taken place in several countries, and currently Nicanor Abelardo Grand Piano Project is on show at the UP Vargas Museum in the Philippines. Can you tell us something about this particular re-incarnation?

A.R: The Nicanor Abelardo Grand Piano Project (NAGPP) project breathes life into the musical legacy of one of the leading composers of the Philippines, Nicanor Abelardo. Nicanor Abelardo pioneered in the research of traditional Tagalog folk music, and he is considered the country’s first modernist composer and wrote the first piano sonata.

Like the ME+MHGPP, the project takes the form of an installation, which also functions as a stage/workshop space for the restoration of three found pianos and their transformation as art case instruments. The pianos being transformed also function as conceptual portraits of the composer. For the project, we found 2 Wittemberg upright pianos built in the early 1990s and a dis-used Grotrian Steinweg parlour grand from the UP College of Music. This project is part of an artist residency at the UP Jorge B Vargas Museum and Filipiniana Research Center to celebrate the Centenary of the University of the Philippines, where Abelardo also attended and lectured.

The installation thematically focuses on Abelardo’s classical work, ‘Mutya ng Pasig’ (Muse of Pasig), which is animated through text, objects, found piano parts and imagery drawn from photographs and popular culture. The grand piano will be developed in September when I return to Manila and will be launched for an all-Abelardo concert, performed by distinguished alumni and students of the university and other guest pianists.

S.A: Are you working on other projects/exhibitions, or is this one all consuming?

A.R: I am writing this interview from my current location in Townsville, North Queensland, where I have returned to mentor/collaborate with a group of artists who participated in the Thuringowa Helicopter Project in October 2007. The artists have been working with similar community groups to develop a new project, which will culminate in performances and exhibitions in August/September 2008. This is an important project as I am able to return to a region where I have previously worked to observe the developments that have taken place as a result of the initial project. The project is based around the creation of a submersible deep-sea exploration vessel and a shadow play based on the exploration of concepts and experiences that lie beneath the surface; of individuals, society and the world around us. The Thuringowa Helicopter Project is also currently being prepared for a national tour around capital cities in Australia as part of 2009 Kultour

photo credits: Alwin Reamillo, Menchie Maneze, Jimmy Pimentel, (Maria via) Violi Calvert & Edd Aragon

---
more info links:

http://www.aaa.org.hk/newsletter_detail.aspx?newsletter_id=541

http://philippineartscene.blogspot.com/2007/05/mang-emo-mag-himo-grand-piano-project.html

Global Pinoy Song

2009-09-03T06:59:00.002+10:00

In 2004 I wrote some lyrics that begged for a reggae beat and so I opted for the tune of Englishman in New York. I asked a friend to do the vocals, guitars and keyboard while I mixed in my solo blues harp. I finished the mix and saved the song in some vague folders in my pc. Five years passed when I discovered the song file! With fervent nationalism gripping the country, I decided to make a video using the song as soundtrack. This is dedicated to all Filipinos abroad aching to visit Motherland. Hope you like it.

Islao Palitao

2009-08-23T13:12:00.015+10:00

Once in a while there are bees buzzing under my bonnet, as one good friend has put it; so I'm introducing Islao Palitao in my blog. I'll let him express whatever comic strip idea I have in mind (sigh, I miss doing comic strips for Manila daily newspapers back in late 70's).

http://www.alanguilan.com/museum/liwv2n155.html

The name is similar to Islaw Palitaw which is a 1946 cartoon character by Larry Alcala ..and yes, he's still not given the title of National Artist, not even posthumously. What a shame! Oh well, I shall worry not for I like to think that a person given an unworthy gold medal bigger and heavier than his own weight and ego shall carry around his neck a lifelong burden; his creations a mute cry in the wilderness begging for an audience already wisened up by the deceipt of status quo.

The Glo-Magic Wand (A Plug-in tool:)

2009-08-09T08:05:00.226+10:00

Adobe-thick Delicadeza

What happens if a President abuses the privilege to choose (or delete from list) National Artists? Howls of protest, naturally! Van Gogh's ear would have bled again, Frida Kahlo's eyebrows would have joined in unison; the last drip to have broken Pollock's back, Ocampo would have snapped his favorite brush, Legaspi would have burnt his curtain mural..all in disgust!

View from Sydney (above image)

A nation's flag a stylized Japanese where yellow turned black at the Center. It was the day I've opened emails and news and felt terribly sad and wronged as someone who grew up in the Philippines.

Black is symbolic of mourning by Filipino artists in protest of this year's scandalous selection of National Artists Awards, waving but not drowning amid a sea of yellow flags that bade Cory Aquino farewell.

Struth! Me mates are up in arms and I'm no doob not to empathize. Ah, Australia, proud of an adopted land that nurtured and influenced half a lifetime of relentless cultural learning; a country which encouraged new citizens to integrate but not to forget positive traits and national heritage they had to offer; and inspirited universal values practised by a community of democratic nations.

Corruption is vehemently frowned upon and emphatically asserts that no one is above the law. Decency rules.

So what has happened to Philippine delicadeza, a Filipino trait that meant refinement and decency? Politics in the National Artist Awards?

I heard of the terrible news from voluminous emails, FaceBook posts and online papers that the process of selection was anomalous..

..that is to say, a presidential privelege had rudely interfered with the NCCA 's (National Commission for Culture and Arts) logical selection process.

The Adobo PhoneyShop (Lutong-Macao)

Let's pretend we're a team doing a digital painting. Not too complicated, just objective, honest and has quality of intent to create a digital artistic scenario of a nation proud to the world.

Well you know, let's GoogleSketch a monument there by Tolentino, Cut & Paste a canvas there by Amorsolo or Luz, print out a BenCab there, vector down some beautiful libraries behind the trees designed by Nakpil or Locsin..and where we could read a Joaquin or Villa.

Around here would be moviehouses that would play old Brockas and Bernals, let's embed audios of Kasilag or Celerio..

..and high up there would be museums and galleries where we could relish the intoxicating legacies of people who have sacrificed a lot of personal time, energy and priveleges for generations to come.

Then "Wham!" As we were confidently immersed in the most basic, unpirated version of a third-world PhotoShop, there was this weird, selective tool that interfaced and interfered, and in the process deleted the creations of fair dinkum Filipino artists.

It was a malware of a bloody plug-in; a political magic wand with a forced tolerance of 100%.

We then protested politely against the use of the presidential magic wand where the selection seemed random (not to mention Control+A), A for abuse.

Random means erratic, undiscerning and uncaring! Alas! Just pressing shortcut keys Control + Shift+I on the Presidential keyboard instantly reversed the selection process (eeriely the shortcut keys are also qualities of a leadership which is controlling, shifty and egotistic).. then horror!..

..the Delete button sunk with a clunk and with much impugnity; totally aloof to the painting's outcome.

Heritage areas were surrounded by selective marching ants that excitedly danced and overwhelmed the landscape.

But wait, there's more! Control + V and splack! (Whadda?!)

Something was suddenly pasted from the unseen Presidential clipboard!

It was strange, alien and heavy like watered-down acrylic paint.

Damn, it was too late. Somebody had flattened the image while no one's looking; that was when everyone rolled their eyes.

Sorry, no Control+Z, no undo's here, History was cleared! Kaput!

The final landscape painting looked horrible yet it was Saved in the Presidential folder.

Everyone of us in the art team/committee looked at each other dazed..then walked out in disgust.

It was to add insult to the pain of a Cory-less nation.

Talk is cheap? So here are photos all over this blog entry.

Just faces of artists and our National Artists who have significantly helped shape the nation's cultural and artistic landscape.

All photos taken at the CCP in this blog entry were by Tilak Hettige (who gave permission via BenCab)..

..and Ige Ramos who gave permission via FaceBook. Thanks guys. Mabuhay kayo!

F. Sionil Jose, Arturo Luz, Bienvenido Lumbera, Napoleon Abueva, Virgilio Almario, Salvador Bernal, & BenCab led artists & community in a Necrological Service & Funeral March for the National Artist Awards last Friday August 7-2009 at the Cultural Center of the Philippines.

The planting of black ribbons on CCP front lawn was Jun Yee's art installation concept but everyone joined in, including Tilak.

Read my other blog entry on National Artist BenCab.

Hex, Lies & Videos

Here's our National Heavyweight on YouTube; plus a 3-part video of Che-Che Lazaro's Media in Focus (ANC)

Just received a new video from a friend. Indeed, everyone needs a refreshment:)

Cry Yellow!

2009-08-01T07:45:00.130+10:00

(above image) my caricature of Cory published in Sandigan (Filipino-Australian) newspaper, May 1988.

Today Filipinos are crying yellow as they grieve for the demise of the Philippines' 11th president. Cory Aquino aka Mrs. President died today, August 1, 2009; the first female president of the Philippines and Asia's first female president.

(above photo: Vics Magsaysay, Banggaan Art Group)

Yellow was her preferred color even before she was installed as president, people inspired by a popular American song Tie a Yellow Ribbon which they sang and did to welcome her husband Benigno Aquino at the Manila Airport.

Alas, poor Ninoy never made it to the streets of Manila after years of exile in America, for he was horribly gunned down at the airport's tarmac. Until now, the mastermind has not been brought to justice.

(above photo: Rod Samonte, Banggaan Art Group)

His death choked like yellow mustard gas and gripped tight the airpipes of a people already gasping for the life-giving breath of democracy; and the welcoming yellow ribbon tied loosely around every freedom-loving Filipino became a tight noose when it was abruptly stained thick by blood. It caked dry and strained the elasticity of the constricted veins of a nation forsaken. The pressure was too much and the patience exploded thus the EDSA revolution, now known around the world as People Power.

People Power Monument, Philippines (web image)

Yellow then became flavor of the reclaimed democracy, wrested away by the people from the militaristic regime .

(above image: People Power, South Africa)

Overnight the connotation of the word as cowardice vanished; suddenly the jaundiced masses that wallowed in poverty for years under an oppressive dictatorship took a healthier color..

(above image: People Power, Thailand)

..and the battle for freedom began and still unfinished today.

The rest of the world afterall has plenty of time to catch up; for freedom will never be served on a yellow, picnic platter.

(above image) my illustration for The Australian, Aug. 21, 1986

Today August 1st is also President Manuel Quezon's death anniversary. He died of tuberculosis in 1944 in Saranac Lake, New York.

http://blog.calaveracomics.com/2007/03/some-new-stuff.html

Today Cory Aquino chose to leave Earth to join the late husband she sorely missed.

Today is also death anniversary of my father Manuel who passed away in 1998.

Today is also the birthday of my youngest son who was born in 1994.

August 1st indeed is always a cocktail of emotions for this writer.

Here Dad, wherever you are, I'd like to show you the palette of bright colors in my heart. You were part of it.

The yellow seeds you've planted in my consciousness are fast yellowing ripe, keeping abreast of my age. I've acknowledged long ago that Life is a painting, and it was really up to me to use dull or bright colors, warm or cool, or just plain black and white. Thank you for the yellow warning light you shone on me everytime I was about to go astray.

Life, I found out is just too short for us to be able to use all the colors in the rainbow. The trick I thought was to use one, or two, or..okay.. three, but not more. One color for the mind, another for the body and one for the spirit.Then I mix them all up to a dark mass and use it as black for the linear elements to draw Life's pattern which I then fill in with hues of all gradations, one color dominant over the rest. My Life's painting has been in process for the past 6 decades, when to put the last brush stroke of Yellow is a mystery I'm not yet keen to find out.

Perhaps, an individual is like a nation that carefully chooses the colors in its flag. For outsiders, the color symbolism may not be big deal; but for those born and educated inside the archipelago, the idealism was inspired by heavenly bodies.

Today the yellow sun burns brightly in the middle of the stellar-cornered, white pyramid of the nation's flag, aloft halfway to its mast, with its blue and red wings drenched by Manila rain, heavy and in sorrow for the demise of the leader of the People Power revolt.

As someone said, at times our own light goes out and is rekindled by a spark from another person. Each of us has cause to think with deep gratitude of those who have lighted the flame within us. I thank Cory. I thank my Dad.

Nature and human nature is one and the same afterall. Nature nurtures. Nature is us. The color of yellow could be as fragrant as a free spirit, sweet like Guimaras mangoes or as obnoxious as yellow sulphur. We have the choice, nature could only provide and guide us towards a healthy mind and being. Man shall forever avoid the toxicity of nature that can harm him. Likewise to live in a society free of toxic political decadence is delicious and much desired.

But in its vexillology and all, the nation's flag could not all be yellow yet (even if emotions relentlessly pour out for Cory); not just yet for it will still be undeserving. A solid yellow flag shall only mean one thing ..clean; just like the international maritime signal flag where a solidly yellow flag denotes the letter "Q" (which means a ship asserts that it does not need to be quarantined).

(web image: Yellow Flag Iris)

The nation still has a lot to do to isolate the yellow fever of corruption and greed that incapacitated and drained the country's fragile economy. Until then shall yellow flags bloom and blanket the nation in blissful peace. Only then shall we see everything in glorious yellow; and we shall experience delirious fun, almost like being inside a yellow submarine, or even other modes of transport.

(above photo) web image

At the beginning of our lives, there were no colors for at least nine months as we only felt the warm, liquid darkness of primeval innocence, ignorant of colors and was delightfully swimming in it.

It was like awareness trapped inside a coconut, surrounded and protected by the pureness of its thick meat of inner white walls yet it seemed darkness had to obliterate the light to let knowledge evolve inside without getting burnt to a crisp. Something inside seemed restless and waiting for a time when someone gives it a precise, clean stroke of a machete to expose the nourishing Grace.

Upon rupture, it was rapture. Perhaps the color yellow was introduced to my infantile life when I first saw the yellow incandescent light; as the nurse pulled away my yellowcaked diaper; or was impressed on me as I blasted a pressurised stream of yellow to the faces of those I've fancied. Why, according to my mother, even my big, grotesque head that had sparse, velvety black hair was covered with a thin layer of icky, yellow slime. Yellow, yellow all around me so therefore I naturally gravitated to my favourite color... Blue.

You'd think I'm kidding. Blue afterall is not too far away from Yellow. Well in printer's ink term, process yellow was based on a colorant that reflects the preponderance of red and green light, and absorbed most blue light. Painters meanwhile traditionally regarded the complement of yellow as blue (or indigo) because of various characteristics of paint pigments and different color wheels used.

How many of us know that the word yellow comes from the Old English geolu (or geolwe which derived from the Proto-Germanic word gelwaz)? The color had a long history and nations have long adopted the solar hue in their own right. Some might have offensive and non-offensive racial overtones. What with an East Asian born in outback Australia? Shall we call him a yellow ocker? Do you see any peril? What if he's of Italian lineage..Naples yellow? There's Indian yellow, Chinese yellow (arsenic trisulfide) and there's Gamboge yellow, the name derived from Cambodia. And now we have the Philippine yellow, and the whole world knows of its meaning.

Rest in Peace, Cory...and Dad.

Here are three timely videos:

-Part 1 of Cory Aquino's historic speech before the US Congress (Sept. 1986)

-Bayan Ko featuring the images of Fernando Amorsolo and the voice of Kuh Ledesma

-Heber Bartolome and Banyuhay (Katotohanan Lamang), Tribute to Cory