March Made Me Feel Like A Salmon

Last February, I 'mourned' for the loss of my wallet in which some of my Japan memoirs were stored. Very unfortunate. I had in it the contacts of my Japanese coordinators, some souvenirs from places I've been like restaurants and train stations. My regrets that I didn't make a scrapbook which I think is more appropriate to keep in my memorabilia and alike stuff.

Sensoji Temple in Asakusa is the oldest buddhist
temple and most famous among tourists in Tokyo.

The primary reason why I'm still saddened about it until today is that I lost together with it the fortune paper that I got from Sensoji Temple in Asakusa, the most famous Buddhist temple in Tokyo. To describe, it looks like a modernized printed scroll, small in size which contains kanji and kana characters in traditional vertical way. On its latter part is where the brief English lines of my fortune is described. I cannot recall the exact and complete phrases, only few of it that told me precisely "you will find hope up in the sky" and "something long lost will be found."

The whole month of March is one enough proof for all its happenings, of turning that short Buddhist fortune forecast into my reality. I'd like to start it with the second line "something lost will be found" which I knew even before I got the temple's scroll has come true, has popped inside me, has crawled in my skin until I felt so true to say yes, I believe I have found it. I honestly believe it pertained to my long lost ambition, to my re-encounter, to my remarriage with my dream since I was little child - becoming a fine artist.

An art studio along a street in Ueno.

In the morning of March 19, 2013, we passed along the streets of Ueno on our way to Asakusa. I can say it has the prettiest streets of Tokyo (among all of where I've been). It is home of the famous Tokyo University of Arts (Tokyo Geijutsu Daigaku), art studios and museums, cherry blossoms parks and pandas.

Graduation Picture

Post by Mon Umali.

I Wanna Tell You About My Phantom

February Photo Gallery Extension (Shots Taken by Karen Adiova)

 

 

February Photo Gallery (Editorials by Vina Salazar at The VMS Project)

A S H  F A L L

W E E K E N D  B O W L I N G  M A D N E S S

One Nihilism

Dear friends, 

Knew why we're flocking together. Knew why we're killing the same amount of time and emptiness. We have a magnetic attraction. WE'RE ALL HOLLOWS INSIDE. There is a BLACK HOLE inside of us revolving and growing slowly like the universe. We realize it 'cause we bear it. And hell cheers even to the meteors of the other space, we would rather not discuss. Think we could all fill it with liters of coffee or beer, gay to legit liquors, with French fries or cupcakes, with nimbuses of smoke, or even with the thin air we breathe in the same sanctuary where we do the transcending sit and stare. But we acknowledge we're doing bullshit stacking up a monster BLACK HOLE. We accept it, we're all HOLLOWS in our chest. Sometimes, I compare us to a used match - quarter dead and black. But I wanna try one day putting a live match back in its box. Thinking it's hella light up others too, and together make one collaborative fire. Think it's not bad, we just can't burn backwards. And we're not children of of god to worry our ass out; the floating ashes are our religion. We’ll be souls light and thin, and a fucked up gravity will take us to whatever galaxy we all long desired to be.

Photo courtesy of www.veinteractive.com

Calling from a Wooden Horse (木馬)

I just felt really crapped by my condo-mates (due to little misunderstanding) and disappointed with how our pitch in the agency turned out - it was a total mess, I guess. From Makati, I went home in Batangas even it was planned then that I would be going to ChinaTown the next day (a holiday) to welcome the Chinese New Year. My original buddies also backed out lately, and so it was cancelled then and kind of depressed me.

Early the holiday itself, I was all feeling hopeless. I woke up quite late in the morning by the loud sounds coming from the speakers of the TV in the living room. It was the noise of firecrackers and drums for the dragon dances that had been starting, in a place that's totally miles away from my bed. The broadcaster was also interviewing feng shui experts about lucky charms, omens and other traditional beliefs. I said to myself while wiping morning mess on my eyes, "no, I can't let this pass and regret soon that I didn't pursue on things I truly wish to do while young." And so I got up.

My breakfast was the pleasing I made to my friend Karen to push through Bindondo Street Getaway with me - lucky I perfectly have a friend who's just one text away, a friend who possess same wavelength and mantra (she's a Metal Sheep though). Met up quite late in the afternoon, we rode the train as the sun goes down on us, though I wasn't actually losing my drive and hype. I was feeling blissful inside as the sound of hushing train runs through my eardrums and as we sliced through history-spiced Manila, oh Manila.

Holiday-goers beside Carried train station. © Mon Umali

Truly delighted with these lanterns. © Mon Umali

And the rest is a story. The unstoppable fire-cracking and dancing of dragons and lions in every corner of Ongpin Street. As the dragon glided through the crowd and pass through us, all the bitterness and sorts of load that we're carrying were driven away. I felt renewed and firm, piled up, fixed. I felt a healing of my long-searching soul, gratification and a sense of direction.

I would have been superb if I didn't forget to bring my camera, and if there was a lot more space on my phone to capture the colors and vibe of the moment, a perfect chance to practice my true passion - street photography. But I still believe it was a good start. Sometimes, I just have to run it through and feel it.

So cheers for a new year, a lucky year I wish for a Water Rooster like me. Happy Chinese New Year of the Wooden Horse! Kung Hei Fat Choi! ;)

Along Ongpin Street in one of the historical towns in Manila. © Karen Adiova.

Seesaw

Cold sweat,
cold breath.
- just some flashes of youth triggered in me as I saw kids playing seesaw on TV.

Why was our high so high?
The feeling that we would almost rocket to the sky
and grab the clouds by our hand;
the thump of thrill in our stomach
as we let go of the grip and brush through the air;
the wind that wipes and dries up the sweat on our skin;
the cold of the grass when our feet press on it;
the sudden bump to the ground;
the impact to our butt;
the moving of our joints;
the climaxing sound of hinge;
our ego;
our desire for highness;
our power;
our childishness.

I ask, what's the difference of feeling so high and feeling so low when we were young?

Lomo Landscape Series

January Photos (Featured by The VMS Project of Vina Salazar)

Well, looks like modeling is becoming my hobby. How I wish I could turn it into a part-time job and earn from this bullshit. HA-HA-HA