dreamscape

Cut my viewing of that Fringe episode with toads and butterflies because I thought it was the right thing to do before I slept. But soon after I turned off my lights, I heard a scrapping sound in my room. I sat in the dark, trying figuring out if it was just my imagination or some piece or paper flapping in the dark. It wasn't. So I said, fuck it, turned on my bedside lamp, and found the greenest grasshopper flying around my ceiling. Shit. Now wide awake.

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I hate it when I recommend music or movies and the person I recommended it to asks if it's happy music or a light movie. I never really know what to say to that. I don't think my mind works that way. I usually just want to know if it's good or bad, and even then I'll want to hear/see it myself and have make my own opinion. And if it's good stuff, that's always uplifting and encouraging.

But as I get older, I feel more vulnerable, and easily affected. A bit of self-preservation begins to kick in. It comes in the form of thoughts that say, "I don't want to fill my mind with stuff that can affect me. Life's too short to be affected." Sometimes it really is tempting to bliss out, to find music, movies, and books that are just easier to digest, minus the complexities of layered themes and meaning. But that's how you become a contented cow, wagyu ready for the slaughter.

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Contented Cow was the name of my brother's best bud's high school to college band. It's got an interesting origin story.

Teodulo Protomartir

It's unfortunate that I do not know more of Teodulo Protomartir, whose photos of 1946 Manila put the art in artifact, but I'm glad I caught his show at Silverlens. Amazing photos. This just wasn't a guy with a camera experimenting with a relatively new medium. This was a guy with a unique and timeless vision. His composition and knack for visually articulating a moment will put those scarf-wearing, from-hip-shooting kids to shame.

Silverlens press on Protomartir here. The show opened yesterday and will be on for a month. Go see it.

My photography is about found stuff. I like walking around, in different places, taking pictures of things that evoke a feeling. I also like movies that give meaning to our every day existence. Nothing like finding beauty in a floating plastic bag, but everyday things people obsess about - love, work or family. I enjoy sports and war movies or books because they're about real people who lived interesting lives. A lot of things I enjoy revel in the glory of the here and now.

But there's also a part of me that enjoys the mind fuck. It's usually visual, and has the ability to blow my mind away. Like that giant robot by Rob Sato in the past entry. Click on the image. See a bigger image of that rusting monolith. Look at that world and say the title in your head. In the future's past there was a world-ending war waged with giant robots. But all that's left are these remnants, slowly being swallowed by a greening earth.

It reminded me of childhood favorites, Macross and Nausica, and how those cartoons exposed me to fantastic worlds. Worlds that were ending, and creatures, spaceships and giant robots abound.

I like to remember the feeling of how all these things were freakin' wonderful, and I hope I never forget.

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I also like funny TV shows, or talky shows about politics or crime. But now that shows are on break, I've returned to sci-fi/weird shows. I've restarted Fringe, and marathoning Lost. Let's bring fantastic back.

"Peace At Last In A Future Past"

by Rob Sato

via Ramon

Ode to PNP 132

I inherited the car I drove in college from my mother. By then it was probably eight or nine years old. It then got handed down to my brother, five years my junior. If Gino and I were to write our biographies, the years of driving that '89 Corolla would make up the character building chapters.

I remember that the car used to overheat often. Until one of my uncle's mechanics discovered that the previous mechanic installed the fan the wrong way. It was blowing air away from the radiator. The car also had a knack of locking people out. Somehow the lock had gotten loose, and even if you just closed the door lightly, the lock would come down. It taught me to never leave my keys inside.

One time, while driving in the rain, Gino had to stop the car, get out, and wipe the windshield. In his rush to get out, the door half closed. The lock dropped. And Gino was locked out. Since the door was only half closed, Gino figured he could push it to close completely and the lock would pop back up. Illogical, yes, but standing in the pouring rain, on a busy street, his cellphone inside the car, he was out of options. He muttered a quick prayer and gave the door a hard shove to close. The lock popped up and Gino was never so happy.

Why did Gino have to step out to wipe the windshield? Because the wipers' rubber were torn and I couldn't afford to replace them.  Even when I eventually replaced them, I still waited until visibility was nearing nil before flicking that wiper switch. I was conserving the rubber. That's habit that carries to today, even I've finally gotten a relatively newer car. I have to be driving to an absolute downpour before I even begin to think about wearing out the wipers.

I'm only writing about this now because I had new wipers installed today. Ahead of the coming rains, and before the rubber's completely worn out. I got reminded that problems usually sort themselves out, that we get to better days, and that the bad days are still worth a laugh.