Two dark thoughts and a light one

(otherwise titled, "The actual state of things")

These two darker drawings would basically reflect the general feeling of utter discord that I feel nowadays. Now, don't feel better for me yet because the light floral watercolor was from better times, just uploaded late.

As you can see, I started with a flower, and from there proceeded to hair which looks like a flower or a flower which is actually hair (however you see it, it's of very little importance) and to just, hair-- crazy hair.

Oh, well.

There WAS nothing

I haven't written a single blog post for May and June because there were things I had been busy about. Or there was just nothing. Nothing at all.

To stick to the busy excuse, believe me that I had gone up (or down) to several towns, did a lot of research for a writing assignment that I haven't yet finished, attended meetings and interviews here and there. I've also gone home and attended to some important business there. And I also took care of a job interview in a university, where I sat in an interview, did demo teaching, and after a few weeks, was informed ('regrettably,' as per the university HR officer) that I didn't get the job. So that's it, apart from all the other boring blah.

On the other hand, I also had pretty much a great time with a lot of wonderful people -enjoyed the rides going to and coming home from the towns I visited (and the moving window pictures on the buses and jeepneys), watched movies, went on walks, ate at different restaurants, ate lots of ice cream and crepes and blueberry cheesecakes, finished several bottles of beer and glasses of tequila as well. There was a trickle of parties all through May which I somehow enjoyed, a couple of them maybe I enjoyed too much, because I got drunk horridly. It will never happen again. And then of course, there were those times with :). It would be unfair to say I did not enjoy those.

Anyway, after all those running around for a whole month, it's like as if I was done living. Like I have reached my quota for having fun and for doing essential things such as going to work/doing work, like any mature, responsible person ought to do. I was attacked by this terrible case of anti-social behavior that pinned me on my bed for hours every morning, on my chair in front of my computer for several more hours after I've woken up for the day, and then a few more hours staring at nothing, punctuated by instances of going to the CR or to eat and drink. All I wanted to do is read a book or watch a movie or post comments on my Facebook page, or chat with whoever online. And in all instances, I don't know if I was even completely 'there' at all.

I don't know if it's a seasonal kind of disorder, or if it's any disorder at all; or maybe it wasn't and it was just a terrible case of good ol' bout of laziness. But it's crazy. I was going crazy about being that crazy. I've never been this inutil! A whole month and a week running?

There was just nothing. Nothing at all. No poems, no drawings (maybe one which is too dark and sad, and which I might post if I feel morbid enough), no diary scribbles (there were only dates, and what I did on those dates, and maybe timelines and short anecdotal comments on encounters with you-know-what). Other than that, nothing more.

I was like a zombified me. Only my basic survival and instinctual drives were working.

Hopefully writing in past tense would mean I'm through with all that and that I'm ready to rejoin the living world.

Hopefully.

A million sparkly little pieces

I want to write lines of how you lit the sun with your hands and your mouths,

oh your many hands, and your many mouths.

Yet they escape me.

I never can grasp them.

Because these lines—

They instead glide down into the very center,

Where the phantom of your mouth is still felt even after hours,

Where they beat, beat, beat.

Warm and tender and bright,

With me, they beat.

I want to write lines of how these phantom lines

Pulsed, pulsed, pulsed,

and pulled at me,

and tore me

into a million sparkly little pieces.



*This is the first poem, in fact, the first piece of writing, I have done after a good two months now. It must mean something. :)

The poke

#696

Shorts of all sorts!

Just when you thought there's nothing else you can waste your time on right after you've watched all the torrent-downloaded movies (copied from friends of course, because first and foremost you really don't have the patience to download your own torrent software, and second, you also lack the patience to wait for movies to download if you ever would finish downloading the software), and after you've also finished the e-books and e-comics that you also have copied from friends, and after you've of course gone through all the recent posts on Facebook, chatted some of those online, etcetera, etcetera, you decide to look for The Sandman or Neil Gaiman videos, but in the end, surprisingly, you are led to some silly, crazy, and some awfully touching shorts such as the these:

Distraxion

This one gave me a good laugh. This is saying, "Huwag mong mani-manihin ang cassette tape!" Haha!

 

This Side Up

As for this one, uhmm.. It's funny but I also feel kind of sad for the poor guy. I sympathize, because like I said in my intro, I really don't bother much about downloading because it drives me crazy! Even when you've got a really good DSL connection, I've got this feeling that something is still bound to fail. And this guy, well, he's probably still stuck with the dial-up era. Download music. And play it on the phonograph. Right. This is a crazy, crazy short. 

Cat's Meow

All cats are evil. So true. Cats give this air as if they own that's in their sight. Where dogs would jump and dribble saliva all over you in his joy of seeing you, a cat won't even acknowledge your presence. "So what? You're there, I'm here." I remember trying to coax this group of kittens from outside somebody's gate, you know, just to see if they'd let me scratch the underside of their heads, because they were really cute! But then all four (or was it five or six), they would all wander away out of reach, randomly, like those tiny little balls inside that cheap flat plastic toy I used to play with when I was a kid where the objective of the game is to drop them all into the depressed parts (I don't know if they still sell those outside public elementary schools), yes they would all stroll, heads up away and about. One stayed long enough for me to reach out my finger, but it just stayed there and looked at my finger and back at me as if saying, "Who do you think you are?" Thus, the premise - All cats are evil.

Kiwi!

 Alright, enough of cats. Now this one, aaww, this one is both sad and inspiring. Not everybody has the guts of this brave little kiwi bird. Not everybody reaches out to realize their dreams no matter what. This short should teach us that sometimes, if that's what we really wanted, we just have to do whatever it takes. 

I think that's all for now. I'm sure I can still find some more shorts in the Internet, I still haven't finished watching all the ingenious Pixar shorts, and the creepy, scary, disturbing, but highly whimsical and often touching storybook videos of Katy Lowell also deserves to be remembered. I'll make sure to post them here, too. Ciao, for now!

Too busy to blog

It has been a pretty busy week, and another pretty busy week is coming. So I'll be staying off the blogosphere for a while. See you when I've got the time to have a virtual life, blog. I'm currently occupied with real life right now.

Teacher and slam poet Taylor Mali performing "What teachers make"

I came across this video from Aussie blogger, Eden Riley's Edenland and I'm thankful she shared this video because this poem performed on stage by Taylor Mali, who is, according to his site, http://www.taylormali.com, "one of the most well-known poets to have emerged from the poetry slam movement and one of the few people in the world to have no job other than that of poet."

Anyway, this pretty much shook me to my core, being a bum that I am right now, doing nothing except blog and maybe accept a few odd writing and editing jobs that kind friends throw at me, felt that I really have ignored my destiny.


I know I should teach. Again. I know I should, but then, at this point in my life, after all the disheartening experiences and encounters that I have had in my three years of teaching, I feel like I don't want to be in that place again. It is very sad because I want to teach again, but I just lack the heart.

 Taylor Mali, who is "a vocal advocate of teachers and the nobility of teaching," with his works such as "What teachers make," is an inspiration. My desire to teach wanes from time to time when I remember all those ugly experiences that I've had with bosses and colleagues who should have been the first persons to encourage you. But then I guess, I'll just have to take that leap of faith, as they say, and just keep that thing inside me, the real reason why I took up Education, burning.

God, please light the fire and keep it ablaze.

Just one of those days when terrorism seems like a good idea

I want to write something. I mean, not just blog, or write articles. I want to write a book, or a screenplay or a short story maybe. But there are just a lot of things to write about. I know I have got a lot of material on my sheet to work on from, but I’m just not confident to share any of them to the critical public, nor am I any closer in trying to sort them into some semblance of a genre. I think I’ve become a rambler, really. I don’t know how to easily organize all these supposedly “exciting” vignettes of my “remarkable” twenty-five years of life into what I have been picturing out when I was thirteen as my “masterpiece.” And I know I was better when I was that age too. I’ve lost my touch now, I think. Lost it in all the panic and terror that has become my everyday life. No, I have not become a terrorist. Would have sounded less disappointed at myself if that were the case. Were that the case, I would have felt accomplished, contented that I have a purpose to the world, even if it is merely to destroy it.[Sad face].

A lost story

(or Murphy messing with me for the umpteenth time)

The Dream King, a.k.a. The Sandman, a.k.a. Oneiros, a.k.a. Kai'ckul, a.k.a. Morpheus, a.k.a. Murphy, among other names - my favorite Neil Gaiman creation, among others. (Illustration by Yoshitaka Amano, in "Dream Hunters")

I remember I dreamed about a great idea for a story last night, or early this morning. It might even be a whole story, although at this point it has already been lost.

I remembered waking, getting up, and smiling while eyeing my little red notebook and a pen that were both sitting together on the desk beside my bed. I was feeling triumphant because I have caught the idea/story in that place where it is difficult to hunt and actually capture something- that realm between sleeping and waking.

Apparently, however, it had all been in my imagination because by now, it had already been four hours after I've actually woken up (I wrote this first on the little red notebook at 12 noon today) that I remembered having that moment, if it was a real moment, or that dream, if it were indeed a dream.

And also, the little red notebook? It wasn't anywhere near the desk at all. I found it in the very bottom of my bottomless sack-bag. And the pen? I found one from another room.

Damn. Murphy is messing with my head.

More on Murphy next time.

Bacolod artists grace festival

(Published in Panay News Sunday, 20 March 2011)

Bacolod-based renowned artist and visionary Charlie Co, who did the ribbon cutting for Ugyon sa Dihon 2011 opening night on March 8, popped in with Dennis Ascalon, another one of Bacolod's most notable artists, on the third day of the exhibit, bringing with them a league of the younger artists from Bacolod City.

~o0*0o~

Roderick A. Tijing 

Roderick is a surrealist whose works are somewhat influenced by the colorful, dreamlike works of Charlie Co. Roderick's are however, more on the playful side, compared to Co's usually social commentary-charged pieces. He has a solo exhibit entitled "Dreamscapes 2" on going until March 25 at Negros Museum, Bacolod City.

~o0*0o~

Guinnevere Decena

Decena's "Refined Chaos"

Guinnevere's, or Gwen's (as what she prefers to be called) works are both graceful and thought-provoking. Her featured painting entitled "Refined Chaos" depicts an exquisitely done female bust with towering hair made of what looked like crumpled paper, a signature in her work, if you check out her Facebook. The title, according to Gwen, pretty much summarizes what the painting is all about. "It's a battle between control and accident," she states. She describes her style as being "minimal but maximal." In other words, she does with painting what poets do with words.

~o0*0o~

Ian Valladarez

Valladarez' "Femininity"

Ian is resident artist to Balay Negrense in Silay City, where he works on his specialty -continuous wire sculpting, from seemingly simple keychains to more complicated artworks such as his Ugyon exhibit piece, "Femininity."

~o0*0o~

Christine Bangero

Bangero's "Travelers Secret"

Christine is a photographer who also has a great appreciation for art, as well as a penchant for body art. In fact, the newest tattoo that she got from fellow Bacolodnon, tattoo artist Chaq Lobaton (for more info, visit his blog, Pain n' Ink) won third place in the festival's Metal Ink Tattoo Expo competition. The tattoo design is a lotus flower with vibrantly colored details.

Bangero's newest winning tattoo, by Chaq Lobaton

  

~o0*0o~

Supposedly, this should have been a sidebar to the main article

<<"Iloilo Art holds exhibition, talks"

which appeared 2 days later, 22 March 2011

Iloilo Art holds exhibition, talks

 Ugyon sa Dihon 2011, An Ilonggo Art Festival

(Published in Panay News, March 22, 2011)

 

Iloilo Art, together with the Province of Iloilo, held “Ugyon sa Dihon 2011, An Ilonggo Art Festival,” last March 8 to 12, 2011 at the Philippine National Bank (PNB), Gen. Luna St., Iloilo City.

Jason Gonzales and Charlie Co did the ribbon cutting to open the Ugyon sa Dihon 2011 Festival on March 8, 2011. With them are Iloilo Art's Lester Amacio and Marrz Halley Capanang. 
Photo Credit: Anthony Estancia thru M.H. Capanang

 The week-long festival is an exhibition of artworks by different Ilonggo artists, from visual arts students of the Iloilo National High School – Special Program for the Arts, to college students from various universities and colleges including the University of the Philippines and the University of San Agustin. There had also been talks and workshops covering a variety of topics such as art management given by Prof. Vinnie Tan of UPV Gallery curator, tattooing by Iloilo Tattoo Artists Organization president Norman “Poloy” Gerona, museum management by historian Rene Trance of Museo Iloilo, drawing by Shielo Mae Duterte, faculty of the College of Fine Arts, University of San Agustin, water media by Alex Ordoyo of the INHS-SPA, live model sketching by John Paul Castillo of the Philippine Women's University, terracotta sculpting by artist Alan Cabalfin of the Iloilo Visual Artists Association, and basic photography by artist Lester Amacio of the Avellana Art Gallery in Manila.

Iloilo Art is the brainchild of artists Lester Amacio and Rheo Nepomuceno. Ugyon sa Dihon, on the other hand, was planned firsthand by USA-College of Fine Arts faculty member and resident artist, Yannie Rose Noble and John Paul Castillo.

“The reason we put up the organization is gusto namon padayunon ang naumpisahan na sang mga older artists,” Amacio says, “and of course para mahatagan break ang mga kabataan nga artists like the kids from the Special Program for the Arts.” He further says that any artist who has the time and commitment can be a member of Iloilo Art.

Amacio is optimistic that Iloilo Art, with the support of the local government and the Ilonggo artists themselves will be able to hold festivals such as Ugyon sa Dihon in the coming years. For more information and pictures of the festival, see Iloilo Art on Facebook.

~o0*0o~

Read the following related articles to see featured artists:

* Sculptor Harry Mark Gonzales in  "Ilonggo pride amidst national renown"
* Tattoo Artist Poloy Gerona in "Re-inking the Ilonggo psyche"
* Bacolod artists Charlie Co, Dennis Ascalon, Roderick A. Tijing, Gwen Decena, Ian Valladarez, and Christine Bangero in "Bacolod artists grace festival"

~o0*0o~

Additional Links:

You can also check out this site: Iloilo Art.i.ph

To see Amacio's artworks, look up Lester Amacio on Facebook. 

Re-inking the Ilonggo psyche

Tattoo artist Poloy Gerona

(This article was published in Panay News Sunday Edition, March 20, 2011)

“It’s all about the pain.”                                                        

 

And so goes the motto that runs on the storefront of Macabre Tattoo in the 3rd Floor of Mary Mart Mall, Iloilo City, owned and operated by Norman “Poloy” Gerona, tattoo artist and president of the Iloilo Tattoo Artists Organization (ITAO).

 And this, perhaps, is also the appropriate motto for what Poloy, as what he prefers to be called, and the tattoo artists and enthusiasts of Iloilo, with ITAO, wishes to achieve – to reverse the perception that most Ilonggos have towards tattoos and getting one.

“Kalabanan nga mga Ilonggo, panumduman nila kung pintados ka, adik ka," (Most Ilonggos think that if you are inked, you’re a drug addict,) Poloy says, “but then, we are not. Tattoo is a form of art."

Poloy himself is shaven, pale, and despite his job description, is not (yet) covered from head to toe with tattoos.  The most notable tattoos that Poloy has are the pieces on his chest – on his right, a portrait of his wife Venice, and on the left, that of the Lord Jesus Christ with a crown of thorns. 

Here in Iloilo, tattooing doesn't get much of a following compared to the US or even just Cebu or Metro Manila. That's why he was thankful when he got the invitation from artist Lester Amacio of Ilonggo Art to stage a tattoo expo on March 10, Thursday.

“First time ini nga nagka Tattoo Expo diri sa Iloilo,” Poloy says, “Kag hopefully, mangin paagi man ini nga ma-familiarize ang mga Ilonggo sa tattoo art.” He says that there are still many of the old-fashioned lot in the city, even with the artist community. This Expo, as Poloy sees it, would be a big step for the tattoo industry to be accepted, if not yet embraced.

"Ang tattoo, waay delikado," the 35-year old artist explains when asked about the popular notion that one can get diseases through tattooing, "kay of course, tanan na ya nga ginagamit disposable --from needles to wipes."

"Halin sang-una gid na ya, gina-try ko gid engganyo ang mga tawo," he further says, stressing that people should be educated that tattooing is simply an art form, only that in this case, the canvas is the human skin.

Asked how he found himself in this kind of enterprise, Poloy explains that it simply started as a hobby back in 1991.

"Kay halin sang-una pa ya hilig ko na gid mag-drawing," he explains. He says that the first tattoo he put on himself is that of the logo of the biking brand Fox on his left hand, owing as well to his other hobby. In a show of sentimentality from somebody who has demon images on his arms, Poloy says he has covered up all the other older tattoos he's had, but he'll be keeping this one.

“It was just a sort of backyard thing,” he says, “we were in CPU then.” And as, they say, the rest is history. Right now, Macabre Tattoo has been gaining customers since he first started the business in 2008.

The Tattoo Expo, attended by tattoo artists from the city, as well as invited guests from Bacolod City and Boracay, is a day-long event that featured a tattoo competition for two categories - small and big tattoo designs.

Asked if they apply some sort of local anesthesia if customers would request it, Poloy only smiles and says, "It's all about the pain, gani."

Zeth's architecture

(This was posted as a note in Facebook on 03 March 2011.)

One noontime, just when I arrived in our boarding house from a my usual shift helping grumpy-but-soft-in-the-inside elderly Americans get a picture back on their TV screens, or some other situation not unlike those, my housemate Mary’s three-year-old kid, Zeth Nathaniel, made me this teeny weeny “house” built out of a jelly cup and a cake accesory (I don’t know what it is you call that thing you put on the cake where you can rest your frosting flowers or your action figures. I’m not even sure that’s what it’s for.)

Anyway, so he made this tiny little structure while I was sitting in our hallway texting (because you don’t get a signal inside the room).

“Uh. Tao ko nimo ran. Imo du lang ran,”  (Here. I made this for you. You can have it) Zeth said as he presented to me his work of art.

“Wow. Thank you,” I told him, “Ano day a? Balay?”  (What’s this? A house?)

“Huod,” he replied “Yes”.

“Wow. Nami ba (Nice),” I said, and amazed that his young mind was able to come up with such a design, and considering my own fondness for weird and unconventional architectural structures, I continued, “Ti sulod run sa balay mo, diin kaw maagi kaw ka ran dayan bay?  Masuhot kaw sa idalom?” (So, get in your house already, but where are you going to enter? Through the bottom?)

Somehow feeling so proud of myself that at that moment I was nurturing this young boy’s imagination and that maybe this was a major turning point in his future life as an architect or an engineer, I was expecting that Seth would launch into an endless description of how people would be going up through a staircase (maybe a spiral one) that would be from the ground and into the main floor of the building, where inside, the rooms would be arranged in a circle, and of course, they would all look out into the outdoors through the clear glass walls. Blah, blah, blah.

That didn’t happen. Instead Zeth gave me a look that made me feel as if I’m the silliest grownup in the world. It's a look that more or less says, "Are you SERIOUS???"

And then what came out of his cute little mouth made me realize that my imagination is perhaps not LARGE enough for him –

“Man-an mo hanggud takon dun, pasudlon mo takon ra diyan. Indi takon dun mag-igo ra diyan.” (You see that I’m a big boy now, you can’t make me get in there.  I won’t fit any longer. Silly.)

Right. Got it, Zeth.


:)

Life is a series of random collissions. Eh?

 (Originally posted as a Facebook note on 26 February 2011.)


“Life is a series of random collisions.”
-  Jessica Zafra’s Chicken Pox for the Soul

Indeed. Some of them you’re more than happy to be tangled in – as a matter of fact, you  anticipate the impact, you relish the explosion. And some… Well, some you wish you could have undone, you could have avoided, because, really, when you think about it now, all those mashed up flesh and bone and hurt and pain, they’re not really worth the thrill of violating all the traffic rules for.  And oftentimes, these collisions are just one and the same – you really wouldn’t know where the excitement ends and where the panic begins.

This is how it feels like. This and more than this.

Button eyes signify the birth of hairy, spindly creatures called "thoughts"

 (Originally reached out in a multitude of arms and legs on a Facebook note on 11 February 2011)

 I know it’s crazy but sometimes I have the profound ability to put myself on power save mode, or stand by mode, if you so prefer. If you have watched the animated film “The Fantastic Mr. Fox,” the best example of somebody going on power save mode is when Weasel, Mr. Fox’s assistant, would gain buttons for eyes every time Mr. Fox would explain something beyond what his weasel brain can accommodate.

An "Ugh, come again?" moment.                                                                                                                                                      Weasel, Mr. Fox's right-hand man, er... animal, in the animated movie "The Fantastic Mr. Fox"

It’s just amazing to be able to sit and stare at nothing for hours on end and let your thoughts take the center stage and just leave everything else on the wings.

It’s like being lifted off on a cloud and flown to a place where these thoughts take the form of tiny, ADHD-inflicted creatures with a million spindly and hairy arms and legs, that run around a wide gray field, springing on each other, clutching one another’s hands, doing a sprightly dance.

One thought would start from one tiny blob, not unlike a peanut. Then it would start sprouting tentacles, first just one, and then suddenly another would follow, and then one more, until you wouldn’t know which way it would go. And before you know it, another thought has kicked the peanut off.

This time it might feel or look like a lightning bolt, or maybe an electric shock, just like the last time I used Bern’s faulty heating cup and forgot that it’s faulty and used a spoon to stir my noodles and got the shock of my life (or, okay, maybe at least “of the year,” ) – scary.

This lightning thought would immobilize my subconscious and suddenly it would soften itself up, this time it might probably look like a soft fluffy cloud, ready to envelope me. This kind of thought can be probably embodied by sharp realizations of something I really didn't want to acknowledge.

And then these thoughts would hump each other like rabbits until each (read: each, because thoughts are hermaphrodites) give birth to a baby thought, or maybe a litter of three or four, or maybe millions and billions of baby thoughts all crying out to be fuzzed over, fed, and at least, paid attention to.

That is how I feel waking up today. Sometime, somewhere, somehow, I’ve got to purge these creatures out of my head.

Hmmmnn… Trying to think of exactly when, where, how. And so I'm sucked into a whirlpool. And I grow buttons for eyes.

Separated by Clingwrap and perplexed by the Philippine testing and evaluation system

( This was my ingus regarding the 2009 NAT when I was still teaching at Iloilo National High School- Special Program for the Arts, first posted as a note in Facebook on 12 March 2009)

Clingwrap is the newest evil thing that separates, albeit temporarily, foodies like me from the sugary and creamy wonders of fruit salad; in the same way as frivolous testing preparations which are in truth only face-deep and nothing but 'for formality's sake' are the dark curtains that separate well-meaning and eager-to-help school teachers, and most especially, jumpy and paranoid student-examinees who did their best in reviewing and studying from the ugly faces of misguided DepEd officials and public school administrators and their misconstrued view of the National Achievement Test.

Yesterday, I was one of the proctors for the National Achivement Test (NAT) for Second Year students. The INHS group was deployed to be proctors at Pavia NHS and so we all went there and as we were told in our brief with the INHS testing committee, "systematically" and "religiously" followed everything that was written in the booklet. (Included there is "Say the following: 'Good morning. I am (State your name). Before you take the test there are some things that you should remember. First...' " and so on).

For lunch, we had fruit salad inside a small white specimen cup covered with Clingwrap as dessert. The orange papaya and peach pieces, pineapple slices, yellow corn kernels, one small cherry half, all smeared in a bath of condensed milk and cream, along with nata de coco and buko cubes hiding in the cream's whiteness taunted me with their assumed sweetness and creaminess from beneath the smooth and transparent sheet of Clingwrap while I wait for one last examinee to finish answering her test for the morning. Finally she stood up. My heart, along with my taste buds, lurched. And then she sat again. She forgot to answer the difficult items she skipped. How many more? "Ten pa, Ma'am."

Haay. And so, my agony continued. Until after thirty minutes I was able to sit down and eat my lunch (chopsuey and estofadong manok) and me and my fruit salad finally got to tongue-lock.

The whole thing about the NAT examination and our tasks as proctors for me is just like my Clingwrap situation.

Of course, the National Education Testing and Research Center has nothing evil in its purpose. As an entity under the Department of Education, I know that the center is honest in its endeavor to measure the kind of education that the Filipino students are getting. Identifying which high school would be the best such provider, and who ranks second, third, fourth, or fifty-seventh to her is simply the DepEd's way of encouraging those bottom-placers to improve their instruction strategies. But, for crying out loud, is there a provision buried under the memos and resolutions regarding the NAT that says "Superintendents and School Principals are encouraged to encourage, even promote, sharing of answers (euphemism for outright cheating) so as to guarantee his/her division/district/school a place on a higher rung of the National Achievement Tests achievers'-cum-cheaters' ladder"? Will somebody tell me, is there any?

It's just surprising to learn in our briefing the day before yesterday that one of our higher officials in the division actually said not to be "too strict" on the examinees, following the claimed cheating complaints by the INHS proctors last year which were eventually ditched by the said office.

What is the world going to? I laud Sir Manny Mezias for remarking, "Ti sige ihatag na lang namon sa ila ang answers eh! (Okay, so we'll just dictate to them the answers then!)". Everybody laughed at his remark, but dear ladies and gentlemen, saying it's okay to allow kids to cheat in an exam (and a national exam at that!) is certainly not a laughing matter! Laughing at the idea that an education official would allow such a thing is certainly an ugly symptom that our education system, if not our country is getting sicker and sicker by the minute and that the cure for it is out of reach, masked by a thin, shiny, sheet of frivolousness.

Hopefully, we all can get rid of that Clingwrap of idiocy so that we can enjoy the fruits of our students' diligence.

This is actually a fruity refrigerator cake and not a fruit salad. The photo's from a recipe post at www.elvirasroundabout.blogspot.com

Resurrection

Since I cannot concentrate on doing my course requirements, I've decided to do something worthwhile. Thus the resurrection of this blog. As you can see, I've just pimped it up a little. And I do hope I didn't overdo the header. I have also been thinking of allowing Google to put ads on the blog, but then on second thought, nobody's really checking on it, except my friends, so the chances of receiving a check from Google is zero percent. So, scrap the AdSense thing.

Anyway, I will be migrating the few notes that I posted in Facebook during my non-Blogger state. And yup, that's it. See you in a few posts!

Ilonggo pride amid national renown-

Sculptor Harry Mark Gonzales in Focus

(This article was published in Panay News Sunday Edition, March 20, 2011)

 

Gonzales with "Munting Anghel" in Ugyon sa Dihon 2011 at PNB Iloilo

 

 “Munting Anghel.” That is what the gleaming sculpture of an adorable cherub balancing on dainty feet, like a baby playing see-saw on his or her mother’s legs, is called. This interesting sculpture, despite its simplicity has drawn some attention from visitors at the recent Ugyon sa Dihon 2011 exhibit at Philippine National Bank, General Luna on March 8-12, by Iloilo Art, an organization of young artists from all over Iloilo, together with invited artists from Bacolod City.

Made of cold-cast marble, a medium that is novel for most Ilonggos, this 20-kilo sculpture is from artist Harry Mark Gonzales, a native of Mandurriao, Iloilo City. It is one of Gonzales’ personal achievements, as it is the first of his cold-cast marble sculptures that he was able to exhibit here in his hometown. 

“Because of my craft, my life has improved,” says the 29-year old native of Mandurriao, Iloilo. He explains how from just being an elementary pupil whose future seemed geared to becoming just a mere tambay, his life took an amazing turn for the better when his father took him to one of his carpentering jobs for no other than Ed Defensor, one of Iloilo’s premier artists. 

As his works started reaping him awards such as for the Shell National Student Art Competition, which he won when he was in first year college, as well as winning the Metrobank Art and Design Excellence Award for National Competition in Sculpture, Gonzales also gained a huge following from bigwig collectors in Metro Manila. Through this, he was able to learn and perfect the medium of cold-casting from one of the country’s master sculptors, Juan Sajid Imao, son of National Artist for Sculpture, Abdulmari Asia Imao. From then on, the boy was fated for a bigger destiny. 

And it is this destiny that Gonzales is living now.  Aside from continuously producing sculptures made of clay, terracotta, and his latest medium – cold-cast marble, Harry also conducts workshops every summer for SM City Iloilo. On top of that, together with his mentor Ed Defensor, he had also been commissioned to work on several public pieces such as the relief sculptures on the base of the simburyo that graces the rotunda on the new road in Brgy. San Rafael,  Iloilo City. 

The reliefs around the San Rafael rotunda monument were done by Gonzales with Ed Defensor.

Gonzales also reveals that he also would be part of the proposed 15-feet monument which will crown the new Iloilo City hall’s dome. He says it’s an ambitious project but he is nevertheless proud to be part of it. Asked what the monument would depict, he says it’s for all Ilonggos to watch out for, what he can tell us is that the monument will be cold-cast in bronze, the process for which would take the artists to Cebu, as we still don’t have the facilities here in Iloilo City. 

“Our city mayor is a cultured man, having attended UP himself,” the artist says, “he recognizes the need for Ilonggo culture and art to be celebrated.” 

Gonzales says he deeply supports this move by the city government despite the controversy attached to it, because for him, it is sad that Iloilo, albeit being rich in art, is lacking of recognizable landmarks that would put us on the map.

 “We don’t even have a monument commemorating the Dinagyang Festival!,” he exclaims.

So is it really all about the profit? Gonzales admits that art has done him a great good financially, but then it’s not all about the money. He says that with the discipline and the principle that he lives by right now which constitutes making as many sculptures as he can so he has a lot of them to sell when the collectors come buying, he says he has everything covered, even the future education of his kid. 

“I’m a simple man,” Gonzales says, “I have simple needs. And I can tell you that it is simply pride and honor that drive me to do my art.”

Like the novelty of the medium that the “Munting Anghel,” takes it form by, Gonzales believes that as a mere human being, he is only passing by in this earth, thus he says that when he sees the completion of these landmarks, Gonzales says that he can live to an old age feeling content that he was able to contribute not only to Ilonggo art, but also to the history of our city and province. 

"In the future, when my kids would tell their friends that it was their father who created this monument, it would make this whole endeavor worth it," Gonzales finally says.

To learn more, or check out his works, find Harry Mark Gonzales on Facebook.