I had to make an advisory to other editors that our Philippines reporter and I will take the day off because idiot president hastily declared a holiday late Thursday afternoon. We could have made better plans for the long weekend.
Despite the declaration of a holiday, the event at the central bank pushed through. Of course, you can’t reset a thing like this without making a mess of bank presidents’, CEOs and conglomerate owners’ schedules.
The good thing here though is that the roads are less congested. Wohoo!
I worked for a bit at Starbucks in G5 because of companies (or rather pushy PRs) that insist on their own way, forgetting that there is such thing as editorial independence. Diva execs, pushy PRs, and unreasonable company policies–what a way to end the week.
Upon arriving at the central bank, I noticed there were new paintings at the 3rd floor lobby. One staff member told me they have just acquired the collection of UCPB and that is now scattered all over the main building. Unfortunately, I only had time to see three paintings when there must have been hundreds of them. I had to work my butt off last night.
One time I will tell my friends at the BSP comms dept I will drop by to see the sculptures and paintings in their collection during one less hectic day. It’s not easy to gain access there and I had been going in and out of their premises regularly for years as a reporter. Might as well take advantage of that.
They gave me this uncut live currency to add to my collection of like items and commemorative coins. I’m still looking for the uncut 20-peso bills where I had former central bank governors sign their names. Two of them sadly passed on. That item is one of the, if not the most precious souvenir I had kept as a banking reporter. The girls’ dad must have it with him, including my analog cameras.
Now that these tests are out of the way, I can concentrate on other tasks now such as scheduling my appointments with other doctors 😑 which is the hardest part.
I forgot to get my results 😑 before leaving for QC. But I guess they’re the same from last year. The fact that I suspect it was pancreatitis that pushed me to see doctors this weekend, it’s no doubt the trigger are my triglycerides that are likely much more elevated now. 🫠
I now have to prepare my own food since I have to lower my bad cholesterol and triglycerides…no more processed carbohydrates for me. Complex carbs and fish. Steamed, grilled, and broiled/boiled. Salmon, mackerel, tuna, and chicken. 😭 Sigh. I have to look for ways to make vegetables more appetizing. Sweet potatoes. I’ve already refrained from eating sweet stuff. I have to hoard smoked salmon when I see them.
Ageing is hard. But dying is harder. Choose your hard. 🚩
I wanted to drop by at Art Fair Manila this afternoon coming from the south but I had an inkling that people may be swarming the area. I just went straight home to do the usual weekend errands.
Good thing I listened to my gut feel. A journo posted on FB that it took him 15 mins to get out of the 3F parking area of Greenbelt 1. The volume of cars was more than the usual. He said it seemed like a lot of people don’t care about the 8.7% inflation rate. Or everyone went to Art Fair Manila, as one commenter said. 🤔 Hmmm, I haven’t realized that the local art scene has become more mainstream and is no longer the exclusive territory of the artsy fartsy crowd. I mean, that’s good. But then, there’s the sad reality that people go to art exhibits just to do their Tik Tok videos there and not to appreciate art, as one local artist lamented in a social media post. He/she caught some kids carelessly putting their stuff on his/her work so they can do their Tik Tok videos. 😢
I wish BDO would open up its art collection to the public because they are beautiful. I am only one of the few who got access to their collection when I attended one party there in 2018. I only was able to take a few photos of the paintings I liked for future reference. There were a lot to take in.
I was just vaguely aware of Vincent van Gogh’s life and was more familiar with his paintings.
Until tonight.
I read up on him the entire night (for some reason) and learned about his loving relationship with his younger brother, Theo. I felt his struggle with his mental health and his desperate need to paint because that was the only way to quiet his spirit and ease anxiety and depression (oh how painful it would have been without modern medicine!).
His anxiety deepened as he felt his dependence on Theo’s generosity is weighing on the future of his nephew–his namesake–and Theo’s wife.
He knew he was not getting better. He could no longer contain the pain.
Gun to his chest.
His brother died heartbroken six months after Vincent died of gunshot wounds.
Although I may never know how a bipolar felt, I could understand his need to paint and paint to draw out the pain from his body. As if painting numbs you. As if that’s the only way to silence the raging emotions within you, the pain of emptiness that envelopes you.
I wanted to cry for Vincent. It wasn’t his fault he was sick like that.
The last time I drew and painted was when I was 17.
Until I had an “episode” (as my doctor called it) in February this year—when I received J’s painting and had learned about the the truth that I didn’t want to discover—I have never produced something passable as art. It’s that pain of hollowness, that depression, that inexplicable feeling of wanting to be free from something unseen that drove my pencil and brush. Only my hands could express all of those because my keyboard suddenly became bereft of words.
Now I understand What you tried to say to me How you suffered for your sanity And how you tried to set them free They would not listen, they did not know how Perhaps they’ll listen now
For they could not love you But still your love was true And when no hope was left in sight On that starry, starry night
I don’t know what’s wrong with me but it seems like I got my dates mixed up. The TV interview is not on the 21st but tomorrow morning! La idiota!
I have checked the broadcast rundown but it’s difficult to express myself in pure Taglaog when talking about media literacy, echo chambers, propaganda, and grass roots communication. I tend to code-switch on topics like this, especially that I used to talk about this in the classroom and the medium of instruction is English. When I give communication trainings and seminars, they were always in English. I know I’m bad but I find it hard to explain abstract topics like this in my own native language (*face palm*).
I better prepare notes/talking points in Tagalog or else I might get carried away explaining in English.
I took it easy today because I was only able to sleep at past 4 am today. Too much milktea maybe. Ever since caffeine was cut off from me by my shrink (because of alprazolam), I had become more sensitive to caffeine, even just from a simple milktea drink.
Anyway, I grilled some skewered pork in barbecue sauce for lunch. Just because.
And my intention to be a good girl today flew out the window because I wasn’t able to go to UP and exercise and buy vegetables. I slept instead.
OK, I promise to wake up early tomorrow and work out indoors. *Really*
I was waxing the wooden floor of my bedroom when Twin I offered to take over and do it for me. My children are nice. I must be doing something good.
Ate C and I had been training them to do chores and they earn like 5 pesos for each. By the end of they week they have at least PHP 200 that they use to buy whatever. Twin I often buys milk tea while Twin A buys crafting stuff on Shopee. They hate doing the dishes but that’s the most number of chores they can do every week. They also carry shopping bags and put away groceries when I do my weekly shopping. Folding laundry and putting them away in closets. There are other chores that Ate C makes them do.
This is good training for them because when we transfer to my hometown, we won’t have any housekeeper anymore. Laundry would be done by each person. If you don’t do your own laundry, you won’t have anything to wear. I’ll just hire a weekly cleaner for general cleaning but it for the rest of the week would be “clean-as-you-go” style. Same with the ironing, I’ll just hire somebody to do the ironing for their school uniforms. Their mess would be confined to their room and it’s up to them if they want to live in a pigsty or not. As for the bathroom, I had always been cleaning the bathroom twice or thrice a week while I take a shower. For the cooking, I can batch cook or I’ll hire my mom’s cook to do it on a weekend and freeze them for the week.
That’s how we did it when our last stay-in housekeeper left when we were growing up. When I was in high school, we did our own laundry and we mostly kept our messes confined in our rooms. It’s only the public spaces that needed regular upkeep. We had a cook though because as I said before, cooking is not my mom’s thing.
This is why I chose to have a small unit (the size of a two-bedroom condo in Manila) so cleaning would be easier.
I had to completely dry the first layer and came back to this watercolor to do the second layer. The third layer should make the water grey and that should also fix hat awkward part above where it looked like a whale barfed on the water. The problem was I wasn’t able to mix the colors well. In my attempt to mimic impressionism, I ended up muddying the image (*face palm*). I will try to resurrect this on my third layer. I was attempting this technique below. I guess I’m really la idiota. I should have not completely covered the yellow with blue. It should have been in between and not over.
I’ve always been drawn to Impressionists because there’s always something ethereal about their works. Juan Luna’s and Felix Hidalgo’s works are along the same lines that’s why they were the ones I remembered at the National Museum.
Anyway, a drawing a day helps me improve. I need to go to museums because my creativity is drying up.
I have cut some of my 300 gsm water color papers so I can concentrate on post-card sized drawings so I can attempt botanicals. When I was in Shanghai in 2003, I spent an entire afternoon looking and studying Chinese scroll paintings. It was the same thing I did in Taiwan in 2016.
Photo by CallMeCreation.com
Let’s see what I can come up with.
Update. Art and photo by CallMeCreation.comWell, ok. Not bad but messy. Art and phooto by CallMeCreation.com
Just because. Sometimes we want fresh air. Sometimes we just want to be artsy fartsy.
Karnabal by Salingpusa Group. Pintô Art Museum, Antipolo, Rizal. This photo is owned by callmecreation.com
Pintô (“door” in Tagalog) Art Museum sits on a two-hectare garden in a subdivision in Antipolo, Rizal. I’m sorry, I’m pretty useless when it comes to direction on how to take the public transport to get to the museum.
I’ve always encouraged the girls to appreciate art so when I have the energy, I bring them to museums like this one. The first time I brought them to Pintô was when they were three or four years old. I remember the exhausting moment when Twin A threw a tantrum and Twin B kept coming back to the wire sculpture of the “disappearing man.” They were also scared of the bulol (rice god) displays in the lower gallery
This also captured their eyes
Twins by Marina Cruz. Pintô Art Museum
The museum also has a lot of art installation and sculptures in the garden/outside the galleries. New buildings and gardens have been added in the years that followed after I first brought my girls there. Like this building below, which is reminiscent of an adobe house in Mexico.
Pintô Art Museum. This photo is owned by callmecreation.com. Pintô Art Museum. This photo is owned by callmecreation.com
The nice thing about Pintô, aside from the outdoor spaces, it has a lot of sitting areas. Like the ones below.
Pintô Art Museum. This photo is owned by callmecreation.com Pintô Art Museum. This photo is owned by callmecreation.com
Last month when we went there, we were able to visit the newest and biggest gallery, Gallery 7.
Pintô Art Museum. This photo is owned by callmecreation.comPintô Art Museum. This photo is owned by callmecreation.com
My girl, Twin B, liked the Bamboo Forest art installation.
The first time I visited the Bamboo Forest room, I stayed there for a bit and soaked in the atmosphere. It was strangely peaceful. There were others who appreciated the artificially induced peace by meditating on the benches along the walls.
Pintô Art Museum. This photo is owned by callmecreation.com
This painting struck me down. Because I love leather bags and shoes. 😩
The Mindanao collection is below.
Pintô Art Museum. This photo is owned by callmecreation.com One of the posts in the gazebo outside the Mindanao gallery. Pintô Art Museum. This photo is owned by callmecreation.com
Opening hours Tuesday – Sunday 9 am – 6 pm
Pintô Art Museum 1 Sierra Madre St. Grand Heights Rd, Antipolo, Rizal, Philippines