my footsteps echoed as i walked over the hardwood floor, across this expansive hall. though i don't recall having ever been here before, the place did not feel foreign to me. strangely even, i felt rather comfortable.
the floorboards were polished impeccably, reflecting the unlit brass chandelier overhead, framed by a spectacularly ornate ceiling that strangely, grew more and more ornate the longer i looked at it. gods and demigods dwelling on lofty hand-painted clouds glanced up at me, obscured by the glare of the flooding moonlight, their images competing with the floor's equally breath-taking marquetry. mythical creatures and flowers and vines intertwined underfoot, swimming in a convolution of colors and forms. they skimmed under the sheen of the floor, moving away to avoid my step, hiding behind veneered trees and retreating between the wood joints. i smiled at the thought of their behavior for surely, how could i cause harm to such enchanting (enchanted) work. i stopped and stood there for a moment and marveled at the details of my surrounds, these, the creations of a great, maniacal master.
a chair stood proudly on the far end of the room, facing the lone dormer window, overlooking into the sea. the night was clear; the moon hung low over the far horizon and its silvery light streaked the room with long, deformed shadows, like a rake dragged across its decorated floor. indeed, it felt like the room was screaming in agony. i walked over to this curious, lonely fixture, the sound of my footsteps again resounding in the cavernous hall. a cold breeze began to blow from the open window, followed by the sound of the crashing waves from the sea below. as i approached, i noticed that the chair was occupied. the man in a dark robe did not stir to look, nor even showed intentions of greeting me. i rested my hand on his shoulder, gave him a gentle pat and breathe a soft sigh.
"you always had a penchant for theatrics, and i have to say, i love your style..."
"i know you'd appreciate it. i thought this would be a nice distraction for you, you being bored with all that accounting that is."
"thank you. this will do. i hope you don't mind, i'll stay here with you for a while longer."
"no, not at all. take all the time in the world. this is all yours as much as it is mine anyways."
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Saturday, January 23, 2010
the pygmalion effect
the graphite tip of my pencil dragged violently across the awaiting white sheet of paper, receiving my thoughts, containing an outpouring of inspiration. a few rapid strokes later, familiar forms began to emerge, a head, an arm, a tensed deltoid. sinuous lines later gave sight to strong thighs terminating to a graceful foot. i drew to my heart's delight, taking careful measure onto the features i loved the most, the jaw, the gentle arch of the back, the smooth curves of an expressive arm, the subtle striations of muscles in movement. i drew him down quick, before my juices became depleted, before this beautiful vision of man vanish once again to the deep recesses of my memory.
i looked at him intently, allowing myself this moment of simple adoration, marveling at the lines created, amazed as to how great the works God had done.
i looked at him intently, through my discerning eye, and watched and scrutinized the features i loved the most, the jaw, the angle of the nose, the gentle cropped slope of his haircut, the texture of his smooth creamy skin. i took notice of his composure, how he walked, how he sat, how he fidgeted in his discomfort, how he feigned to show nonchalance. he was lively, he was funny, he loved to receive attention. his vibrancy was most palpable, evident through how he conducted his movements with much gusto, unmindful of how seemingly foolish they may be. he however felt lost, to a degree, unsure, but compensates with an unfounded hope, maybe even charged with the prospects of unrealized adventure. ah, the quickening feeling of the young, how attractive.
his smile is enchanting, and his gaze, what bliss must it be to find yourself lost in that stare. there is a certain elegance to this other one. though not as lively and not as young, his quiet disposition adds a sensual mystery to his person. he carries himself casually, not too serious to be stiff, yet not too loose to be tactless. he emanates a sense of balance, a calculated steadiness, an almost psychic symmetry. ironically, his equilibrium makes you distrustful, almost guarded against an unidentified danger. he sat in his seat, cool and calm, a common observer to some, but maybe a stalking predator underneath, you really cannot tell, and i guess, he liked it to be that way... and so did i.
i smiled the moment i saw him. the inner child in me wanted to leap in glee for how could you not feel joy when all about him, it seems, is just that, pure joy. to smile would simply be an effect to a most unobjectionable cause. my skin braced itself as i threw affection towards him, the kind you offer to a well beloved, and he readily returned it with an equal tenderness. i glow in his presence, like the moon reflecting the shine of the sun. his countenance is an intoxicating brew of all things happy, the ingredients of which stretch from summer squirrels playing in the grass to the charged spray of the ocean surf as it crashes upon a jagged cliff face. there is mischief in his voice and sincerity in his touch. how beautiful he truly is, even a blind person can testify.
with great appreciation, i render them onto my imaginary man, give life to attributes with each pencil stroke, thanking in turn my God, that i could be a witness to His great handiwork.
i looked at him intently, allowing myself this moment of simple adoration, marveling at the lines created, amazed as to how great the works God had done.
* * * * *
i looked at him intently, through my discerning eye, and watched and scrutinized the features i loved the most, the jaw, the angle of the nose, the gentle cropped slope of his haircut, the texture of his smooth creamy skin. i took notice of his composure, how he walked, how he sat, how he fidgeted in his discomfort, how he feigned to show nonchalance. he was lively, he was funny, he loved to receive attention. his vibrancy was most palpable, evident through how he conducted his movements with much gusto, unmindful of how seemingly foolish they may be. he however felt lost, to a degree, unsure, but compensates with an unfounded hope, maybe even charged with the prospects of unrealized adventure. ah, the quickening feeling of the young, how attractive.
his smile is enchanting, and his gaze, what bliss must it be to find yourself lost in that stare. there is a certain elegance to this other one. though not as lively and not as young, his quiet disposition adds a sensual mystery to his person. he carries himself casually, not too serious to be stiff, yet not too loose to be tactless. he emanates a sense of balance, a calculated steadiness, an almost psychic symmetry. ironically, his equilibrium makes you distrustful, almost guarded against an unidentified danger. he sat in his seat, cool and calm, a common observer to some, but maybe a stalking predator underneath, you really cannot tell, and i guess, he liked it to be that way... and so did i.
i smiled the moment i saw him. the inner child in me wanted to leap in glee for how could you not feel joy when all about him, it seems, is just that, pure joy. to smile would simply be an effect to a most unobjectionable cause. my skin braced itself as i threw affection towards him, the kind you offer to a well beloved, and he readily returned it with an equal tenderness. i glow in his presence, like the moon reflecting the shine of the sun. his countenance is an intoxicating brew of all things happy, the ingredients of which stretch from summer squirrels playing in the grass to the charged spray of the ocean surf as it crashes upon a jagged cliff face. there is mischief in his voice and sincerity in his touch. how beautiful he truly is, even a blind person can testify.
* * * * *
with great appreciation, i render them onto my imaginary man, give life to attributes with each pencil stroke, thanking in turn my God, that i could be a witness to His great handiwork.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
random thoughts 2010
compartmentalization can be such a bummer. you would like to think that you are actually better, stronger and more mature in handling situations, thinking that this calm composure you have, surely is a definite sign. you only realize later that the only thing you got better at is how to sweep matters far more efficiently under the rug... or lock them behind a maze of doors, which ever works for you.
i saw your picture again. i recalled that this was the profile picture you once used, the same one that had caught my curiosity. it bothers me a lot to now know that this picture was edited, that you had cropped out the other person in the frame. i shuddered at the thought of what i would feel, if i were that other person and saw what you did.
i rarely say goodbye. i really would rather say, see you later, since it entertains the possibility of a meeting again. it's more hopeful for truly, the future is not in our hands. it's different however when your lola waves and says goodbye to relatives as they fly back to their homes. she sheds a tear. even if she doesn't say it, you know in the pits of your stomach, you know the reason why.
i cannot understand why the beautiful always find themselves unpretty while the ugly bask in baseless glory. even if you tell them your honest, unbiased, and objective opinion, they would rather delude themselves still with the horrible lie. it's just so strange. it almost feels we like staying lost.
i have a strange liking to hearing the sound of creaking metal, like striking the teeth of a spinning cogwheel. it's the same sound you hear as steel slowly gives to an immense load placed upon it. there is a sexy suspense in the beat it makes, from the panicky beginning to the almost heart-stopping crawl to the climactic halt in the end.
why do i only find someone more interesting only when another shows more interest in that person? not that there was never interest there in the first place, only that, there was more after i had learned others also took interest as well. i therefore wonder of my intentions. while others get attracted to more tangible characteristic like looks and appeal, mine seem to be more on the effect they generate on the people around them. hmmm, curious...
mystery and unattainability seem to be things that keep me on. shallowness and sorry attention-grabbing however, i find, are unforgivably repulsive. this must be the reason why i sometimes feel so disinterested in my life and wonder why people find me fascinating, as well as how they can tolerate my presence when in truth, i sometime cannot stand to dwell in my own skin.
i saw your picture again. i recalled that this was the profile picture you once used, the same one that had caught my curiosity. it bothers me a lot to now know that this picture was edited, that you had cropped out the other person in the frame. i shuddered at the thought of what i would feel, if i were that other person and saw what you did.
i rarely say goodbye. i really would rather say, see you later, since it entertains the possibility of a meeting again. it's more hopeful for truly, the future is not in our hands. it's different however when your lola waves and says goodbye to relatives as they fly back to their homes. she sheds a tear. even if she doesn't say it, you know in the pits of your stomach, you know the reason why.
i cannot understand why the beautiful always find themselves unpretty while the ugly bask in baseless glory. even if you tell them your honest, unbiased, and objective opinion, they would rather delude themselves still with the horrible lie. it's just so strange. it almost feels we like staying lost.
i have a strange liking to hearing the sound of creaking metal, like striking the teeth of a spinning cogwheel. it's the same sound you hear as steel slowly gives to an immense load placed upon it. there is a sexy suspense in the beat it makes, from the panicky beginning to the almost heart-stopping crawl to the climactic halt in the end.
why do i only find someone more interesting only when another shows more interest in that person? not that there was never interest there in the first place, only that, there was more after i had learned others also took interest as well. i therefore wonder of my intentions. while others get attracted to more tangible characteristic like looks and appeal, mine seem to be more on the effect they generate on the people around them. hmmm, curious...
mystery and unattainability seem to be things that keep me on. shallowness and sorry attention-grabbing however, i find, are unforgivably repulsive. this must be the reason why i sometimes feel so disinterested in my life and wonder why people find me fascinating, as well as how they can tolerate my presence when in truth, i sometime cannot stand to dwell in my own skin.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
the jade bracelet
i was touching her hand while looking amused at the jade bracelet she was wearing. we sat at my uncle's leather couch while my head was leaning against her arm, my cheek feeling her silken blouse. i still find it astounding how my uncle managed to slip in the solid jeweled piece through her frail hand without hurting her, nor breaking the bracelet in the process. as i played with the jade ring and twirled it around her thin wrist, i asked my 90 year old lola, "would you still need to take this off from time to time?". with a smile she answered me back "i will wear this until i meet the Lord."
i hugged her tight and felt every part of her thin body. "not for another 90 more years, i hope."
i hugged her tight and felt every part of her thin body. "not for another 90 more years, i hope."
Saturday, January 16, 2010
the beloved (repost)
the buildings look bored, and so was i.
the sunday afternoon was common. i was seated on her guest chair by the window, peering out into the neighboring property, no reason whatsoever really, except probably to catch glimpse of some action on that slow, quiet, overcast day.
the sun shied away behind thick clouds, occasionally breaking free from their tight embrace, yet only to fall back once again behind the billowy veil. this hide and seek of light played an unusual chiaroscuro on the structures below, or so i reckoned. monolithic shadows ebb and flow, like a tide of dark water struggling to have a firm grip on a concrete beach. i stared out onto this uneventful canvass of calm, not much to consider really. wearied, i yawned.
amah was sitting beside me at her desk. where else could she be? this was her station, a solid fixture that served as the setting for most of her daily activities. she prays here, talks to people on the phone here, she entertains sitting here, and sometimes, watches TV from here, despite the more comfortable couch only a few steps away. today, she read the papers here, flipping through broad sheets of newsprint, scanning through the red inked verses, reading quietly on articles that ruled her world.
breaking away from my reverie, i found myself observing her, this woman who is a force in my life. i noticed the thin wisps of her teased hair and recall how she would get up early in the morning to apply hairspray on it, liquid scaffolding for her fragile tresses. her skin, thin and sallow, loosely clinging onto her as how her silken blouse drape over her hunched body. her face, her lovely face, bore the many marks of living a full and fascinating life. with each fold, each striation, like rings of a wise tree, they bear stories of a life once lived in a land who persecuted her kind to stories of a life in a land where she had to learn how to call home.
she stirred from her reading, probably noticed that i was intently watching her. she slowly turned her head towards me and gave me her smile. it was the same smile that i have been beholding as far as i can remember. efficacious and soothing than any balm, her smile can melt your heart. no words were uttered between us for we shared many moments like this, in silence. only an exchange of expression, i smiled back, was what was required. i knew that mine can never compare to the power and grace of hers, but i knew she did not mind. it was enough for her. i was enough for her.
the air was warm. the wind was calm. the sky, silvery grey. i sat by ama's desk, nestled on her rattan guest chair and was staring at the woman i so loved... and she was staring back at me, loving me the same.
the sunday afternoon was common. i was seated on her guest chair by the window, peering out into the neighboring property, no reason whatsoever really, except probably to catch glimpse of some action on that slow, quiet, overcast day.
the sun shied away behind thick clouds, occasionally breaking free from their tight embrace, yet only to fall back once again behind the billowy veil. this hide and seek of light played an unusual chiaroscuro on the structures below, or so i reckoned. monolithic shadows ebb and flow, like a tide of dark water struggling to have a firm grip on a concrete beach. i stared out onto this uneventful canvass of calm, not much to consider really. wearied, i yawned.
amah was sitting beside me at her desk. where else could she be? this was her station, a solid fixture that served as the setting for most of her daily activities. she prays here, talks to people on the phone here, she entertains sitting here, and sometimes, watches TV from here, despite the more comfortable couch only a few steps away. today, she read the papers here, flipping through broad sheets of newsprint, scanning through the red inked verses, reading quietly on articles that ruled her world.
breaking away from my reverie, i found myself observing her, this woman who is a force in my life. i noticed the thin wisps of her teased hair and recall how she would get up early in the morning to apply hairspray on it, liquid scaffolding for her fragile tresses. her skin, thin and sallow, loosely clinging onto her as how her silken blouse drape over her hunched body. her face, her lovely face, bore the many marks of living a full and fascinating life. with each fold, each striation, like rings of a wise tree, they bear stories of a life once lived in a land who persecuted her kind to stories of a life in a land where she had to learn how to call home.
she stirred from her reading, probably noticed that i was intently watching her. she slowly turned her head towards me and gave me her smile. it was the same smile that i have been beholding as far as i can remember. efficacious and soothing than any balm, her smile can melt your heart. no words were uttered between us for we shared many moments like this, in silence. only an exchange of expression, i smiled back, was what was required. i knew that mine can never compare to the power and grace of hers, but i knew she did not mind. it was enough for her. i was enough for her.
the air was warm. the wind was calm. the sky, silvery grey. i sat by ama's desk, nestled on her rattan guest chair and was staring at the woman i so loved... and she was staring back at me, loving me the same.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
the vault of sin
you hear her call your name again, ever so faintly in the still night's thick darkness. you swear you are in deep slumber but yet, every inch of your naked body is aware, awake. they spasm and twitch, heeding to her soft invitation. come, she utters gently. come, her whispers repeat.
it almost felt like an instant, your rising, dressing, journeying towards her, standing before her, here now in front of her familiar door. you remember, past times of weakness when her services were your only form of respite from the harsh, cruel world. she was faithful to you, catering to your need, your lust to be numb and forget. she offered you the world and fed your desires until you were saturated with her fatness, until you were filled with her riches, until you desired no more... until that is, you fall weak again.
come in. come in.
come and sample my plenteous riches.
one for each sin, your satisfaction, guaranteed.
they hail from the world over,
taken from exotic, rich places,
marinated in mystery,
perfumed with ancient secrets.
try just one? better, try them all.
try them until you find
him that brings you to paradise and more.
i looked around and set my eyes on the one from Turkey, his decadence was certainly too good to ignore. his olive flesh was enticing, dewy, moist, and supple. his scent, intoxicating, robust with eastern spices. i hand picked him out, certainly the best from the lot. he came with me willingly, his fate fully surrendered. so i took him into my mouth, and bit into his soft flesh. i let my tongue brush against the incredible texture of his skin. i sucked on his life juices as they oozed out of his body. he tasted salty, then bitter, followed by unbelievable sweetness. i took my moment to savor my delectable surprise. i stood there in my silence until a tap on my shoulder startled me...
"kumakain ka na naman? yan ba yun figs na dala ng auntie mo?"
"mmmm, yes?"
"kain ka ng kain. past midnight na ah... kala ko ba sabi mo, on a diet ka for boracay?"
"hehehehe, nagutom eh...."
"diet diet pa kasi. di mo naman kaya. sara mo nga yung ref. sayang kuryente!"
"yes mom."
it almost felt like an instant, your rising, dressing, journeying towards her, standing before her, here now in front of her familiar door. you remember, past times of weakness when her services were your only form of respite from the harsh, cruel world. she was faithful to you, catering to your need, your lust to be numb and forget. she offered you the world and fed your desires until you were saturated with her fatness, until you were filled with her riches, until you desired no more... until that is, you fall weak again.
come in. come in.
come and sample my plenteous riches.
one for each sin, your satisfaction, guaranteed.
they hail from the world over,
taken from exotic, rich places,
marinated in mystery,
perfumed with ancient secrets.
try just one? better, try them all.
try them until you find
him that brings you to paradise and more.
i looked around and set my eyes on the one from Turkey, his decadence was certainly too good to ignore. his olive flesh was enticing, dewy, moist, and supple. his scent, intoxicating, robust with eastern spices. i hand picked him out, certainly the best from the lot. he came with me willingly, his fate fully surrendered. so i took him into my mouth, and bit into his soft flesh. i let my tongue brush against the incredible texture of his skin. i sucked on his life juices as they oozed out of his body. he tasted salty, then bitter, followed by unbelievable sweetness. i took my moment to savor my delectable surprise. i stood there in my silence until a tap on my shoulder startled me...
"kumakain ka na naman? yan ba yun figs na dala ng auntie mo?"
"mmmm, yes?"
"kain ka ng kain. past midnight na ah... kala ko ba sabi mo, on a diet ka for boracay?"
"hehehehe, nagutom eh...."
"diet diet pa kasi. di mo naman kaya. sara mo nga yung ref. sayang kuryente!"
"yes mom."
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
dissecting my smile
kuya said once, i was never good at hiding my emotions. true enough, despite how i fool myself that i have the acting talents worthy of fooling the CIA, even my dog knows when i'm having one of my rather dreary days. i guess i really am that transparent.
i was browsing through pictures taken of the new year's party i just went to and like any normal person would do, i went to look first at the photos that contained me (to post in facebook, of course). as i perused through the few hundred snaps taken by friends and tried to remember all the faces and the names that came with them, i could not help but notice how i looked in the pics. what started out to be a narcissistic endeavor to get the best shots of my not-so-beautiful person to post on facebook (with delusional hope that by doing so it would increase traffic to my page), slowly turned into an introspective observation of my behavior that night. as i looked at each picture of myself, i tried to recall what i was feeling, what i was thinking at that very moment. true enough, my immediate thoughts translated to how my face looked when the picture was taken.
smiles tell a lot more than just a pretty pose for a pretty shot, i found. that night, i learned that besides being happy, i was also being:
1. flirtatious. i didn't know i was doing it until much later when i noticed a few doing the same. i really could care less if my smiling translated as such though. the idea that i was willingly doing it was fun enough.
2. friendly. nevermind the wrinkles, nothing beats returning a smile with a smile. i smiled a lot that night, so much so, i think my cheeks needed a vacation by the time i got home. i think i got to meet more new people that night just because i had a smile on (almost) the entire night. hello new people!!! facebook?? hehehehe.
3. hopeful. blaming the idealist in me, i wished that friends would let by-gones be by-gones (like mgg's desire for world peace). i think i got my wish. blaming the romantic in me, i wished would find someone whom i could strike up a good conversation with. that wish was harder to grant i think... or maybe i was just dense and was already having a conversation? LOL!
4. doubtful. you can never snuff out the cynic in me. even then, i still smile. half-hearted but still positive.
5. guarded. even at times of awkwardness and discomfort, as long as i am in public, i will still be able to smile. i think, that would be my default non-responsive response whenever i find myself in a pickle.
6. supportive. i smile to nudge. i smile to applaud.
7. loving. i smile to nurture too.
8. amorous.
i had a full heart by the end of that night. even if i left early, i didn't mind. i was already full to the brim and basing on all the pearly whites i was already flashing, i really could not ask for more.
i was browsing through pictures taken of the new year's party i just went to and like any normal person would do, i went to look first at the photos that contained me (to post in facebook, of course). as i perused through the few hundred snaps taken by friends and tried to remember all the faces and the names that came with them, i could not help but notice how i looked in the pics. what started out to be a narcissistic endeavor to get the best shots of my not-so-beautiful person to post on facebook (with delusional hope that by doing so it would increase traffic to my page), slowly turned into an introspective observation of my behavior that night. as i looked at each picture of myself, i tried to recall what i was feeling, what i was thinking at that very moment. true enough, my immediate thoughts translated to how my face looked when the picture was taken.
smiles tell a lot more than just a pretty pose for a pretty shot, i found. that night, i learned that besides being happy, i was also being:
1. flirtatious. i didn't know i was doing it until much later when i noticed a few doing the same. i really could care less if my smiling translated as such though. the idea that i was willingly doing it was fun enough.
2. friendly. nevermind the wrinkles, nothing beats returning a smile with a smile. i smiled a lot that night, so much so, i think my cheeks needed a vacation by the time i got home. i think i got to meet more new people that night just because i had a smile on (almost) the entire night. hello new people!!! facebook?? hehehehe.
3. hopeful. blaming the idealist in me, i wished that friends would let by-gones be by-gones (like mgg's desire for world peace). i think i got my wish. blaming the romantic in me, i wished would find someone whom i could strike up a good conversation with. that wish was harder to grant i think... or maybe i was just dense and was already having a conversation? LOL!
4. doubtful. you can never snuff out the cynic in me. even then, i still smile. half-hearted but still positive.
5. guarded. even at times of awkwardness and discomfort, as long as i am in public, i will still be able to smile. i think, that would be my default non-responsive response whenever i find myself in a pickle.
6. supportive. i smile to nudge. i smile to applaud.
7. loving. i smile to nurture too.
8. amorous.
i had a full heart by the end of that night. even if i left early, i didn't mind. i was already full to the brim and basing on all the pearly whites i was already flashing, i really could not ask for more.
Thursday, January 7, 2010
i remember
it starts with fragments of memory, minute slivers of time gone by. they swim in your head, like newly hatched tadpoles in a summer pool. you collect them, try to arrange them again in chronological order or maybe, according to level of significance. some pieces you find lead on to more pieces. others on the other hand, well, you wonder why they're even there. to the ones you deemed special, you begin to string together, taking well note of the blanks that space in between. you try to fill in the lapses and bring sense to the sequence. soon, a story unfolds again, like an old home-made movie, slightly hazy, with all the edges softened, probably after years of bumping about while floating in your brain. you view it through your mind's eye, reconnecting with the flashing images, studying again the old faces, the familiar places, the disembodied voices... then the emotions creep in. emotions make it all real again. it grabs hold of the pictures and breaths life into them. mouths now utter words, faces now bear expression, and movement suddenly carries intent.
you, in your eloquence, try to put your memory to words. you define it, you try to concretize it, buttressing your tale with many ancillary details. while in your attempts however, on this quiet act of rekindling, while revisiting what may have been cobwebbed stories and dusty, old dreams you realized...
"you remember that time when..."
you, in your eloquence, try to put your memory to words. you define it, you try to concretize it, buttressing your tale with many ancillary details. while in your attempts however, on this quiet act of rekindling, while revisiting what may have been cobwebbed stories and dusty, old dreams you realized...
"you know what? i missed you the most."
... there was reason why you held on.
Monday, January 4, 2010
the end of the LONGEST LSS
pardon the rather macabre start to the workweek of the year with this piece BUT, blame it on my belief of divine comedy and how i keep finding myself a victim of it. what perfect timing, i thought to myself, that after almost 13 years of waiting, i finally was able to put to an end what probably must be the LONGEST CASE OF LSS (Last Song Syndrome), ever, on the last day of my vacation.
i first heard of this piece a very long time ago. i still remember it then, cable TV was just new and i, being the utter sponge that i was, was just lapping up whatever these new and very foreign channels were throwing at me. at one particular, fateful afternoon, while watching STAR TV, i happened to chance upon a brief snippet of the HK fashion week. the clip showed a rather dramatic performance involving a rotund lady stumbling over the catwalk, quite deranged looking and in a tattered dress, while other, more statuesque figures, walked down the runway in wedding gowns and carrying chandeliers. what got me transfixed however was not the unusual show but the music they used. it was powerful, sinister, emotional, and utterly intoxicating. it was predominantly strings, violins actually, and was played crisp and raging with ATTITUDE!! i loved it but had no idea what it was called!!! i knew it was classical, that much is obvious, but what was the name of the piece? where was it from? who composed it? sadly, i had no means of answering any of those questions. we still didnt have internet back then so "google"ing was out of the question... then again, 13 years ago.... there was only YAHOO. i was in highschool too and knew no one else who had the same obsession to classical music as i (well, except for an ex-BFF). so, stuck with no means to an answer, i had to rely on memory and patience, hoping that i would one day, eventually, stumble upon the piece again and finally get my answer.
years went by and i still had this hum in my head, for it would plague me every so often. even with the internet at my disposal, i still could not find it, for how can you type down a hummed tune on google? i tried putting down keywords, hoping to find a match. indeed, this proved to be useful once when i tried to find "dies irae"by verdi, but this haunting piece was more illusive than i thought.... that was, until last night.
while watching a movie on youtube, the creators were kind enough to use this piece on a particular scene. the moment the first bit of violins started playing, i KNEW it was my piece... and i KNEW my answer was at hand.... for MOVIES always pay credit to borrowed music and most often would have a SOUNDTRACK. so after a brief cross referencing on google and youtube.... my classical piece FINALLY revealed itself to me.
may i present, "Dance of the Knights/ Montagues and Capulets" from the ballet "Romeo and Juliet" by Sergei Prokofiev!!!!!
syempre, i spent the entire night last night and the whole morning today just watching every bit of clip i could get of this piece!!! PUCHA, 13 years ba naman!!!!
these three would be my faves. pardon the video overload.....
and with the russian ballet....
i first heard of this piece a very long time ago. i still remember it then, cable TV was just new and i, being the utter sponge that i was, was just lapping up whatever these new and very foreign channels were throwing at me. at one particular, fateful afternoon, while watching STAR TV, i happened to chance upon a brief snippet of the HK fashion week. the clip showed a rather dramatic performance involving a rotund lady stumbling over the catwalk, quite deranged looking and in a tattered dress, while other, more statuesque figures, walked down the runway in wedding gowns and carrying chandeliers. what got me transfixed however was not the unusual show but the music they used. it was powerful, sinister, emotional, and utterly intoxicating. it was predominantly strings, violins actually, and was played crisp and raging with ATTITUDE!! i loved it but had no idea what it was called!!! i knew it was classical, that much is obvious, but what was the name of the piece? where was it from? who composed it? sadly, i had no means of answering any of those questions. we still didnt have internet back then so "google"ing was out of the question... then again, 13 years ago.... there was only YAHOO. i was in highschool too and knew no one else who had the same obsession to classical music as i (well, except for an ex-BFF). so, stuck with no means to an answer, i had to rely on memory and patience, hoping that i would one day, eventually, stumble upon the piece again and finally get my answer.
years went by and i still had this hum in my head, for it would plague me every so often. even with the internet at my disposal, i still could not find it, for how can you type down a hummed tune on google? i tried putting down keywords, hoping to find a match. indeed, this proved to be useful once when i tried to find "dies irae"by verdi, but this haunting piece was more illusive than i thought.... that was, until last night.
while watching a movie on youtube, the creators were kind enough to use this piece on a particular scene. the moment the first bit of violins started playing, i KNEW it was my piece... and i KNEW my answer was at hand.... for MOVIES always pay credit to borrowed music and most often would have a SOUNDTRACK. so after a brief cross referencing on google and youtube.... my classical piece FINALLY revealed itself to me.
may i present, "Dance of the Knights/ Montagues and Capulets" from the ballet "Romeo and Juliet" by Sergei Prokofiev!!!!!
syempre, i spent the entire night last night and the whole morning today just watching every bit of clip i could get of this piece!!! PUCHA, 13 years ba naman!!!!
these three would be my faves. pardon the video overload.....
and with the russian ballet....
Saturday, January 2, 2010
the morning after
my eyes opened to a dark, cold room. i slowly reached for my phone to check for the time. darn. 10 already, i lazily thought to myself. i missed the alarm again. it's saturday now and the day when this luxurious lethargy of mine would become a curse draws ever nearer. one more day, one more day... fuck. now les miserables is playing in my head. well, i can't really complain about that. i slowly got up, groped in the dark for my glasses and walked towards the bathroom. i passed the mirror and saw what the holidays had done to me. a year older, a lot fatter, eyebags baggier, an uneven moustache growing on my upper lip. what a way to greet the day. in the midst of this brief inspection, i turned away and quietly hoped that this year, at least, i would be wiser, deeper, kinder, and to a silly degree, more spiritual.
morning bone, followed by a deflating morning leak.
the late morning sun was not as inviting as i had imagined it to be. bright but diffused, i found myself adjusting to the intense glare as i opened the door of my room and walked out into an empty house. the air was much warmer, to my dismay. the days are now getting longer and so heralds the beginning of what will most probably be, a very interesting year.
morning bone, followed by a deflating morning leak.
the late morning sun was not as inviting as i had imagined it to be. bright but diffused, i found myself adjusting to the intense glare as i opened the door of my room and walked out into an empty house. the air was much warmer, to my dismay. the days are now getting longer and so heralds the beginning of what will most probably be, a very interesting year.
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