I was about to use “writers”, but I think this word is better. (Source: most probaby Neil Gaiman’s blog, or his Twitter page, or one of his stories.) Such a beautiful image, and such an accurate word to describe approximately 10,000 hours of staring at a blank page and too much potato chips and having absolutely no social life.
I’m kidding. Maybe 1,000 hours.
Anyway. Book launch yesterday (Feb. 28) of the fourth installment of Philippine Speculative Fiction.
books!yay!
I’ve been published in an anthology before (a collection of flash fiction) but was not able to attend the launching. (Actually I’m still not sure if there had been one.) So the event yesterday was my first ever book launch. Attended it with my friend Eula, who frequents the place because she lives nearby.
with eula
I, on the other hand, have never been there before because (kindly refer to first paragraph).
The venue was the U-View Theater inside the gigantic Fully Booked branch on High Street, and to get to there we had to pass the Graphic Novels aisle. It killed me. The books were unattainable. Dear Fully Booked, kindly put the graphic novels on sale. Ktnxbye.
with nikki alfarwith dean francis alfar
The Alfars (who edited the anthology) were very welcoming, very lively, and just the right amount of insane. I LOVE IT. Each author’s bio sketch was flashed onscreen, which Dean Alfar read out loud. Fun, really fun, except that the authors had to get up and say something. In my head I prepared this speech: “I am so thankful to be in this room filled with writers and readers. This is the kind of room that I’d like to embrace (and do crazy stuff with).”
Instead when I finally got up to get my copies, I said something like: “OHMYGOD I am so THANK YOU [laughs like a hyena] [starts moving around like a jackhammer]” I was moving around so much that Eula said she had a hard time taking a photo of me.
well uh*incoherence*
You see, this is why I write.
* * *
Big, big mistake: I didn’t stick around after the program to collect signatures from the other authors. STUPID!
authors assemble for group picpakadaming cameras
But anyway, at least Eula and I had time to give ourselves blisters walking around Fort Bonifacio. Dinner was fun. Eula, we should do this again!
"healthy" dinner
* * *
This stuck with me, though: when I came up to Dean Alfar to shake his hand, he said: “We wanted so much to meet you, you made us cry.”
You see, this is why I write. :D
Do buy a copy. :)
(The rest of the photos are over here. And here be a bunch of links, compiled by Charles Tan. Know the other authors! Hehe.)
Danny Boyle’s name sounded familiar; only later was I able to check his filmography. I loved The Beach (butt-nekkid Leonardo DiCaprio!) (and Tilda Swinton!), and 28 Days Later (butt-nekkid Cillian Murphy!) . With Slumdog Millionaire Boyle dealt with, well, something more feel-good. Yes, feel-good. The characters even (SPOILER ALERT) dance in the end (END SPOILER ALERT).
The film has predictable elements (love, rags-to-riches, a bunch of bad guys, “It’s our destiny” drivel) made exciting and unique by crazy camerawork and music. As Roger Ebert has very wonderfully put it, Slumdog is “dramatic proof that a movie is about how it tells itself”. To be sure. :)
(Although I keep thinking: if a foreigner made a film about Filipinos with the Philippines as its setting, will I like it? Will I even accept it? Honestly, probably not – although I still can’t explain why I found it okay to read Butler write through the eyes of a Vietnamese. Anyway, I think Danny Boyle has a kind heart. I applaud him and his crew for at least doing something.)
(Also: I think the kids are too cute for words. Hee.)
all in the family (or jamal, latika and salim in various incarnations)at the oscars
(Photos from Rotten Tomatoes, Daily Mail, and the Huffington Post.)
Push
Watched it during the weekend. Just wanted to kick off my shoes and watch something decidedly non-Oscar, haha. I enjoyed watching it, how about you? I’m thinking maybe I just dropped my expectations before entering the cinema. Dropped it like even if Chris Evans and Dakota Fanning just sat in front of the camera I’d still think I saw something worthwhile.
But, I liked the colors and the cinematography. I particularly enjoyed watching Dakota perform. Her characters should get drunk more.
"i'm thirteen!"
(Photos from Rotten Tomatoes.)
Y: The Last Man
The series’ premise (all the men of the world die to a plague of unknown cause, with Yorick left as the only male alive) didn’t exactly tickle my fancy, but when I started reading it (special thanks to Kate and Andrea) I found it difficult to stop.
I’ve just finished the series and now I’m missing Yorick and 355 and the other characters terribly. Highly recommended. I’d grab you and strap you down and force you to read if I could.
(Photo from DC Comics.)
Arkham Asylum
A one-shot graphic novel by Grant Morrison, illustrated by frequent Gaiman collaborator, Dave McKean. Excellent artwork, just excellent – brings several frames of the latter Sandman collections to mind (notably Endless Nights). This novel (if I recall the news reports correctly) was used as the late Heath Ledger’s inspiration for his take on the Joker in The Dark Knight. Here the Joker tells Batman: “Enjoy yourself out there…in the asylum.”
Ledger totally nailed it.
This graphic novel shows Joker squeezing Batman’s tush – that was fun. Robin is only mentioned (“is he already shaving?”), but I would really, really love to read/watch a good story with Robin in it, anything to remove the Schumacher aftertaste.
It is a mercy, then, that no two poets have the same inner life. As readers this allows us to see the world transform and transform again; as writers this allows us to offer something that no other person can offer. Every vision becomes not only true, but necessary, shedding light on the things the others have missed, or simply chose to ignore. This is Rothenberg’s “life-giving vision”, Kelly’s step beyond the “epiphany”, beyond the “flakes of mica embedded in” the pavement, seen for the first time. It is not enough that we see; it is necessary for us to let/make others see, to turn that hum in our head when we walk in the cold at night, that sudden inexplicable flash, that sudden shapeless dream, into the worst thing it can possibly be: a poem, made up of words. If only poems do not have to go through language, if only poems can be given to the world the way they come to us, elusive and formless and pure. But as Kelly says, “We are given: 1 world to transform, 1 language to transform it with.” So be it. We write, no matter how much is sieved and lost in the process, because every vision is legitimate, and needed.
So who’s Rothenberg and who’s Kelly? I seem to know so much about them.
* * *
In retrospect though – I think I still believe in whatever shiz I’ve written years ago. :)
Now, if only I can make myself write again with the same ferocity. *Sigh*
I can’t swim, and I’m too terrified to stay submerged in the water for even a few seconds, so I don’t know why I kept coming back to the ocean.
But what the heck – I love my high school friends. This was the bunch of people who elected me class president for two consecutive years, which makes me love them more because that just proved that they’re all insane.
Anyway it all began with a badminton game, a meal at Jabi (we will always have a soft spot for Jabi), running into Gale somewhere in Malolos, and before I knew it my mail’s being flooded with itineraries and a desperate plea for a kawali and a forum about yuppie life. After the grievance board was erased we went back to itineraries and a debate about canned goods.
Final head count was 17, and we’re off to Laiya.
huwag nang bilangin, nasa CR yung iba.
No airplane involved, and it wasn’t exactly a crazy roadtrip, but hey, it was still a big deal. All through high school and college we suffered through pool parties in this Bulacan resort that made my skin itch afterwards.
The entire ride was like a sitcom and it was exactly what I needed.
I felt sorry for the driver, who now probably thinks I actually keep a battery-operated toothbrush that I don’t use for brushing (wink). Kuya, ako’y mahilig magsulat, at magbantay sa paglubog ng araw; nais ko sanang ipagtanggol ang aking puri’t dignidad pero kebs, ‘di ko naman siya kilala.
At one point we stopped to ask how to get to the resort, and the guy said something that I swear sounded like “Angelina”. Basta drug store daw, tapos kumanan. Minutes later, while we were still craning our necks and wondering where this supposed “Angelina” was, Jayson became rather animated and pointed angrily out the window, na para bang hindi namin kayang mag-U turn. Chos lang. Sabi ko, “Nasaan?!?” kasi hindi ko talaga makita.
When we made the turn I saw this sign:
F
AB A
FARMACIA ABGELINA pala, pota. At kumusta ang sign ng landmark na ‘yan, ano.
So eventually we got to the resort.
Seventeen people in one room – gotta love it. The water was cold, we brought sand everywhere; later the food was prepared and we had to burn my Medicard memorandum (ewan, nasa backpack ko eh, ‘wag mo ‘kong husgahan) and Ghia’s brown envelope just to ready the coals.
The rice was perfect, and so was the fish – seriously I didn’t know fish could be that soft. Love. There was liempo, and kamatis and itlog na maalat and tuna and bananas and mango and I just made myself hungry, great. Later on, inuman na! Labingdalawa yata kaming naghati-hati sa vodka (2 bottles) at brandy (2 bottles nga rin yata) na iced tea at Coke ang chaser, saka Red Horse (2 bottles, masarap din pala ang beer kapag sobrang lamig. ‘Di ko kasi masyadong type ang beer). Labingdalawa. Paano ka naman malalasing ‘di ba.
Pero nalasing ako eh, wala na. Loser. Sa totoo lang, wala na akong masyadong maalala sa (mga) pinagusapan noong gabing ‘yon. Ang naaalala ko lang, niyayakap ko si Maricon, o minsan yung basyong bote ng Coke, tapos nung nag-CR ako akala ko butiki yung nasa dingding tangena palaka pala tangena may palaka sa CR, tapos kapag makakatulog na ako hinihila ni Richard yung buhok ko, tapos may nagtanong sa akin kung gusto ko na bang mag-kape, tapos alam ko may tinanong akong lalaki kung open siya sa isang gay relationship tapos sabi niya oo raw pero di ko na maalala kung sino yun. Sino kaya yun.
So anyway, the next day, boating, snorkeling.
I loved the wind, and the view, but not the thought of being left in the middle of the sea. When we got off, I refused to let go of the side of the boat. Ayoko na, shet, isa itong malaking pagkakamali. Gracezel said I’m safe, I have a life vest on, but seriously, I really believed at that moment that if I let go of the boat I would sink to the bottom. While making my way around the boat, Richard said, “O Eliza, bakit ka nagra-rapelling diyan?” Later on I realized that hey I’m actually floating I am so amazed, and I was handed the snorkeling gear, but I still couldn’t breathe that well – I only saw a snapshot of corals, some blue fish.
Now I am certain that I will never scuba-dive, and that the worst thing that can happen to me is to be left in the middle of an ocean with a life vest. Mas maganda yung wala nang life vest, or imbes na life vest blade na lang o lason. If this is a phobia and the only cure is to throw me into a body of water, then I’ll stick with my phobia, thank you very much.
The ride home was quieter, dahil pagod na ang lahat. I saw Kuya Driver glancing at June and Richard (who were asleep) and shaking his head, na para bang hindi siya makapaniwala na kaya pala namin tumahimik.
That was fun, had a great time. Everyone’s changed, somehow, pero kantyawan pa rin kapag may nagsabi ng “Yah” or “Oh fuck”. Bawal ang “yah” at “oh fuck”, binabalatan ang umi-Ingles. The other batches in our high school seemed fragmented, and I’ve always wondered why the members of our batch are still great friends. I’m thinking one day all my former classmates would be paired off, and I’d be left somewhere in the periphery. Well and good, what can you do right, but I’ll always appreciate an invitation to a cup of coffee or two.
.
.
.
Basta lang hindi ako tinatamad, or hindi ako naglilinis ng kwarto or nagbabasa or nagsusulat or nanonood ng DVDs, or doing some other dorky thing. No wonder nalasing ako kahit more than ten people ang naghati-hati sa kakarampot na alcohol. Anobayan.
I still don’t know, and I’m still too stunned to write a decent film review. (And anyway, Roger Ebert‘s already written everything that I want to say, and more.) Written for the screen and directed by the same person (John Patrick Shanley) who wrote the Pulitzer and Tony Award-winning play, and given life by the best actors (Streep! Hoffman!) – really, what can go wrong. I love the wind and the drab setting, the tension, the claustrophobia, the crackling lights and that ringing phone – I love it. I want a DVD copy of this film. I want to watch the play.
sister james doubtssister aloysius and her frustrating "certainty"
“I have no sympathy for you. I know you are invulnerable to true regret.”
Finally found the time to see Benjamin Button. Lovely film. :) And so long it in the end sucked up all the energy I’ve been saving for writing a good movie review.
I kid; I’m just lazy. I actually found the film engaging enough to not mind the length, a la Jesse James – which incidentally also stars Brad Pitt.
But never mind Brad Pitt – why is Cate Blanchett so perfect why?
It’s one of those films where you feel sorry for the son/daughter for having a sweet but suffocating parent, only to have succeeding events prove the parent right. Of course the parent has to be proven right, or there won’t be a movie. (The film’s called Taken, remember?)
Co-written by Luc Besson (La Femme Nikita), Taken leans heavily on the action, carefully taking its weight off the social commentary and the domestic drama. Bryan Mills’ family heartaches I actually found more intriguing; a deeper exploration would have been wonderful, but hey, we need more space for the car chases and the fight scenes, right?
What the heck, I enjoyed the film, and Liam Neeson’s cool. :D
Eliza Victoria 