My Turf

I was down with the flu for about a week. The upside, though, is that it left me with a lot of time to finish the books I bought in the previous months but never had the chance to read.

Among the favorites (I recommend you read these, too!): 1) Malcolm Gladwell’s Tipping Point , 2) Kahled Hosseini’s Kite Runner, and 3) David Oliver Relin and Greg Mortensons’ Three Cups of Tea.

1) I first read Gladwell’s Blink before I got a copy of Tipping Point. I have belatedly realized that I enjoy reading books on psychology and human behavior. A striking idea from Tipping Point is that of Channel Capacity. It says that there is a limit to the amount of information–as well as emotions and feelings–that the human mind can effectively process. Once we pass a certain boundary, we become overwhelmed. No wonder there is a limit to the number of people we could be really, really close to (or, in Gladwell’s words, count the number of people whose deaths would really deveastate you, and you’d realize that there aren’t a lot). As in processing raw information, attachment and emotional involvement could be very exhausting, so there really is a threshold to the number of things or people we could truly, truly care for.

Another interesting point he worte about is that of Transactive Memory System. Given the fact that the amount of feelings we could store is limited, each of learn to rely on some sort of "external memory," meaning, part of intimacy with another individual is that we leave some things up for him or her to remember for us. For example, in a couple, certain types of information are left to the one who is "best suited to remember what kinds of things." Perhaps, the man counts on the woman to remember the dates or places or people’s names, while the man is relied upon to know how to repair this or that. Now here is Gladwell’s interesting illustration of the process: "Divorced people who suffer depression and complain of cognitive dysfunction may be expressing the loss of their external memory systems. They once were able to discuss their experiences to reach a shared understanding, they once could count on access to a wide range of storage in their partner…and this too is gone. THE LOSS OF TRANSACTIVE MEMORY FEELS LIKE LOSING A PART OF ONE’S MIND."

2) Favorite lines from The Kite Runner

"Maybe it wasn’t meant to be. Or it was meant to not be. The loss was hard–it always hurts more to have and lose, than to not have in the first place."

"I’m so afraid–because I’m so profoundly happy. Happiness like this is frightening. They only let you be this happy if they’re preparing to take something from you."

"It was only a smile, nothing more. It didn’t make everything all right. It didn’t make anything all right. Only a smile. A tiny thing. A leaf in the woods, shaking in the wake of a startled bird’s flight. But I’ll take it. With open arms. Because when spring comes, it melts the snow one flake at a time. And maybe I just witnessed the first flake melting."

Eto ang pinaka-panalo, pinaka-paborito, pinaka-sapul:

"I slipped the picture back where I had found it. Then I realized something: that last thought brought no sting with it. Closing Sohrab’s door, I wondered if that was how forgiveness budded. NOT WITH THE FANFARE OF EPIPHANY, BUT WITH PAIN GATHERING ITS THINGS, PACKING UP, AND SLIPPING AWAY UNANNOUNCED IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT."

____________________________

Yes, yes.

We stop being angry when it no longer hurts.

When we wake up one day and we realize that the pain is, well, gone. It disappeared without us knowing it.

And when we’re no longer angry, we forgive.

Then we’re liberated from it all–the hurt, the anger, the guilt…

Have faith.

One day, it would just gather its things, pack up and slip away unnoticed…

And you’ll be–surprisingly, but delightfully so–okay again.

One thing I LOVE about taking photos is that it makes you pay attention to details you normally do not take much notice of. I am no pro (although I do fantasize about being able to take professional photos a lot), but I sure get such high in seeing an object or a scene that has the colors, the composition, the grandeur or subtlety of a great photograph.

A favorite project I did last year was for the Japan Foundation. It was a documentary on the works of modern Filipino artists such as Edades, Francisco, Ocampo and Manansala. Prior to doing it, I never had much interest in mural art or sculptures. It was only when we were shooting, when I took really close looks at each of them, was I able to appreciate their beauty as well as the genius and hard work put into them by their majestic makers. 

I found it a little sad, though, that it’s people from other countries who recognize–and, to this day, celebrate–the talent of the Filipino artist. Even in international contemporary art books, you’d find the works of the artists whose names I mentioned above. In fact, when this AVP we did on Philippine Cubism was played in France, our contact from the Japan Foundation gleefully told me that people were actually inquiring how they could place orders for the video!

After shooting, I realized just how heartbreaking the evident neglect we’ve shown for these works is. Admittedly, I wouldn’t have understood all this had our team not been commissioned by JF to do this project. If not for this project, I wouldn’t have known that these pieces stood in those places, rotting, wasting away, forgotten.

Here are a couple of examples (pics taken by moi with my digi cam, so pardon the not-so-good quality. Hehehe). Just click to enlarge.

           

      

   The now dilapidated Capitol Theater in Manila

  This is not a work from our artists. Just some old building with its walls ripped off.

In the ’70s, Imelda Marcos commissioned modernist painters to "beautify" Manila. Some works were blown up into murals and painted into firewalls, water tanks, and other urban spaces. This is one of those water tanks. Now barely recognizable as a work of art.

 

The beauty stands in the midst of old houses, tangled wires, and shanties.

This is where the "art work" stands now.

Oh yes, there is a family living under the water tank. With them in the picture is National Museum’s Dr. Patrick Flores. And their doggie.

‘Bantay’ in oblivion…

Eto, isang maikling addendum lang. Hindi gaanong related, pero related na rin. Nakakatawang-nakakaasar. Na nakakalungkot at nakaka-bahala. Doon sa isang taping ng National Quiz Bee, sa Easy Round, tinanong ang mga Elementary level contestants kung sino ang bayaning nasa 50 peso bill. Alam niyo ang pangalang isinulat nila sa kanilang answer boards? Karamihan ay Manuel Quezon. Ang iba ay Manuel Roxas. Siguro sa halos 20 contestants, isa o dalawa lang ang sumagot ng tama, na Sergio Osmeña.  O di ba?  Pera natin yan. Hinahawakan at ginagamit araw-araw. At hindi mo kilala kung kaninong mukha ang nandoon? Nakakatawang-nakakaasar. Na nakakalungkot at nakaka-bahala.

Hindi na ba talaga kilala ng mga nakababatang henerasyon ang kanilang mga bayani, ang mga National Artists, mga magagaling na mangangatha at manunulat? Ako yata, hindi ko rin sila kilala…

Tsk. Kaya naman pala pati tayo nahihirapang maniwala sa sarili nating galing.

Kasi hindi na natin alam kung kanino tayo galing. 

You can truly confirm that you’re way, way down in the dumps when:

a) your usually stingy friends begin to offer to treat you to dinner in a last-ditch effort to make you feel better, and;

b) it’s already more than two hours since you should have left, the lights in the other work stations have all been turned off except yours, yet you remain glued to your office chair, sobbing and bawling like a baby, wiping the tears with your blazer collar, playing Minesweeper while thinking the most self-cursing, self-deprecating thoughts, and listening to Silent Sanctuary’s Rebound (and they sing, "Sana hindi na lang pinilit pa, wala ring patutunguhan…").   

Hindi lang confirmed kundi confeermed: this is the lowest of lows.

Pull yourself together, girl…