Feeling a bit like Beatrix

Honeymals - Some of our pets are more photogenic than others and personally, I play favorites. The first being my very playful and sweet dog, Fendi, who isn't a stranger in this blog. He's always so happy to see me,  jumping around no matter how late I come home from work or school. Next to my dog are my chirpy budgies, Dean and Colette, in their beautiful, very rarely ruffled, teal and yellow feathers.

The rest are just dumped in a "Oh gee, I hope they last long." "Oh, they died already? Well, it's a bit longer than the last one..." set. My sister is past her baby bunny phase and has moved on to guinea pigs. (Thank God, for so many bunnies have come to die in this household!) The guinea pigs squeak and they don't stink as much but good lord, can they eat or what?! They also popcorn, so I'm pretty excited for when the pig begins to do that. Now, it's basically just a white furball squeaking for spinach tops or a carrot. I really, really, really hope this one lives long enough to get a new friend. (As I have whittled down her pets to just one per purchase because they never last.)

PS. The Beatrix reference is from a book I recently read. The heroine, Beatrix, is very fond of animals. I believe she actually prefers the company of her four-legged friends much more than that of talking bi-peds. We can't really blame her now, can we? How can you resist this kind of cuteness?

My heart is wrapped up in clover

Before Adele Adkins, there was Jamesetta Hawkins and both are singers I love. My heart sank a little when I logged on Twitter and found out that Jamesetta (Etta James to everyone) died at 73, from complications of leukemia and dementia. She's one of my favorite singers and it's a little sad whenever great pioneers pass away. It always feels like the end of an era. A few months back, I posted a video of Adele singing Etta James' I Just Want To Make Love To You. It's still one of my favorite covers and I get a kick out of singing along whenever it plays on my iPod.

Tonight, though, will be a short tribute to Etta James. She is and will always be the matriarch of rhythm and blues. My God, that voice! She can easily and perfectly transition from R&B to rock-and-roll, jazz and soul without changing that sultry and emotionally-charged singing voice. I think this kind of raw singing, this passionate, powerful vocal assertion is the reason why I love both Etta and Adele.

Etta James is most famous for her song "At Last", which is commonly played as a first dance in weddings. Most recently, the song was a source of a juicy celebrity catfight when the Obama power couple picked Beyonce over Etta James to sing it at their first Neighborhood Ball. I love how fearless and feisty Etta was, insisting she would've sung it better than Bey. I believe her. Never doubt, never doubt.

Here are two of my favorite Etta James songs, Something's Got A Hold On Me sung during her younger years and the equally beautiful Etta singing At Last many years later. God bless you and keep you, Miss Peaches. Thank you for the music. 

PS: One of my favorite mixes, Rainy Days & Diner Dates by DJ Euric, has At Last as its first track. I'm posting the download link just for kicks (you should really go ahead and get it though because it's awesome and fun to listen to on any given work day). It also has Duffy's Syrup & Honey, a song that's been swimming in my head in and out for a whole week now. 

Don't you be wasting your money, on syrup and honey... 

Picasso: Suite Vollard

I feel a little awkward discussing art when I just really like looking at it and don't really bother with techniques, or any other complexities of the seemingly impenetrable art world (scene?). Indulge me, anyway, because I only talk about those I really like. Two months ago, the good people of Fundacion Mafre and its Instituto de Cultura very kindly lent several Picasso pieces, created between 1930 to 1937, on loan to the Metropolitan Museum as part of an exhibit called Suite Vollard. The Suite Vollard, named after art dealer and curator Ambroise Vollard, is a collection of etchings by Spanish artist Pablo Picasso using different techniques. I'm pretty sure the francophile in you would find it interesting that these etchings were made in Paris, while Picasso was on a self-exile, back when he vehemently refused to show any of his works in his motherland, Spain, because a certain Francisco Franco was in power. (I do like that name, Francisco, if I may say so myself. Franco, too.)

I love Picasso so I might be a bit biased here. I find his works all at once, prolific, passionate and playful. I like that what would seem like mere doodles in his mind were transformed into impeccable executions of mythical creatures. The collection that was recently in Manila showcased the mythic quality to most of Old Man Pablo's drawings. Some of my favorites are the drawings that seemed to set the mood for future paintings such as the Sculpture Viewed from Behind and the Bearded Head. Someone also noted that they look like "A study of..." drawings, which in hindsight, makes perfect sense. I also noticed that most of Picasso's drawings (or doodles, if you may) had Rembrandt's profile or head in them, as in Rembrandt and Female Heads. This must be a manifestation of Picasso drawing inspiration from the works of Rembrandt himself. My favorites, however, were those drawings that looked like they were meant for a mythical novel, drawings that largely reminded me of Oedipus, Europa and Theseus. I also liked the heavily-sketched Minotaur series. The handiwork itself is impressive but not as impressive as the picture that the Maestro was able to draw. It's interesting to note that Minotaurs, in classic surrealist fashion, are inhuman, irrational and mythic. Picasso was fond of drawing the Minotaur because he acknowledged that there is something distinctly human about being a monster. I like how he chose the Minotaur to depict human savagery and the animal instinct humans possess.

My favorite collection in the exhibit would be the "Battle of Love", where the plates transition from subtle erotic drawings to depictions of full-blown sexual violence. Who wouldn't love that excellent combination of love, overpowering force, human energy, and woman's sexuality? Sex and violence may come out vulgar and lewd (or even tacky) if not executed well but these drawings are really beautiful, skillful and dare I say it, passionate. I guess that's the true stroke of a genius. Pablo Picasso is, in all counts, a master.

PS: I tell everyone that my favorite Picasso piece is La Douleur. Because I am obnoxious. Anyway, here are some of my favorite pieces from the recently concluded exhibit:

Foto A Foto: Portraits of Spain

The Spanish Embassy in Manila, with the collaboration of the Spanish Chamber of Commerce, Instituto Cervantes, the MET Manila, Acción Cultural Española and Indra, put together Foto A Foto: Portraits of Spain. The exhibit is a collection of sixty photographs taken all over Madrid and Barcelona, dating from the fifties to the present. What I like best about this exhibit is that every photograph presents a fresh vantage point, a different version of Madrid and Barcelona through a photographer's eyes. There is a distinct variety of visual and aesthetic representations present throughout the collection and I guess that's an inevitability if you put the works of fifty renowned Spanish photographers next to each other. In a way, the viewer gets to see Spain in the eyes of a local and it is very much enjoyable, seeing how these talented individuals view their home country through these photos.

Here are my favorite pieces:

A series of photographs in a town plaza. The term "town plaza" brings to mind two things: the London "ton" where the old English folk walk around to parade new bonnets, parasols and gowns and the provincial town center of my childhood, where children gathered to kick a football, feed the koi fishes (which later turned into mud carps, only in the Philippines!) and run around. The photo set is a little bit of both, it's a mix of tourists walking around and a lot of the locals out and about, doing their daily business. I really like the rural feel of these photos. I especially like the working class drama the black and white photographs bring. 
I'm a big fan of double takes and missed connections, so I gravitate towards photos that capture these moments. It's a little bit creepy, sure, but it is easier to feel empathy towards the subjects of these photos. We've all been there, after all, and isn't it a delightful feeling, when your heart takes a tiny leap the moment you see someone you fancy? Or you know, someone you could fancy, if only you would be given the chance.



I really like these pictures taken by Marta Soul for no particular reason other than I like nice cars and I find the Indian work ethic impressive (and a little terrifying since big companies are relocated from the US to India nowadays).



This is my favorite photograph from the collection:



Again, I'm a big fan of missed connections and double takes. I find this photo so impressive because it leaves so much room for the viewer to speculate the real story behind the visual. Personally, I took it as a fleeting but electrifying attraction but that's probably because I should start stepping away from reading too much fiction. I'm really into stories of longing. I wonder what that says about me.

By the way, this exhibit lets you brush up on your Spanish a bit by providing the photo's description and the artists' brief histories in Spanish text. It could be fun, come visit!

Foto A Foto: Portraits of Spain will run until January 15, 2012 at the MET Manila. 

Don't Date A Girl Who Reads

"...nothing sucks worse than a girl who reads. Do it, I say, because a life in purgatory is better than a life in hell. Do it, because a girl who reads possesses a vocabulary that can describe that amorphous discontent as a life unfulfilled—a vocabulary that parses the innate beauty of the world and makes it an accessible necessity instead of an alien wonder. A girl who reads lays claim to a vocabulary that distinguishes between the specious and soulless rhetoric of someone who cannot love her, and the inarticulate desperation of someone who loves her too much. A vocabulary, god damnit, that makes my vacuous sophistry a cheap trick.

Do it, because a girl who reads understands syntax. Literature has taught her that moments of tenderness come in sporadic but knowable intervals. A girl who reads knows that life is not planar; she knows, and rightly demands, that the ebb comes along with the flow of disappointment. A girl who has read up on her syntax senses the irregular pauses—the hesitation of breath—endemic to a lie. A girl who reads perceives the difference between a parenthetical moment of anger and the entrenched habits of someone whose bitter cynicism will run on, run on well past any point of reason, or purpose, run on far after she has packed a suitcase and said a reluctant goodbye and she has decided that I am an ellipsis and not a period and run on and run on. Syntax that knows the rhythm and cadence of a life well lived.

Date a girl who doesn’t read because the girl who reads knows the importance of plot. She can trace out the demarcations of a prologue and the sharp ridges of a climax. She feels them in her skin. The girl who reads will be patient with an intermission and expedite a denouement. But of all things, the girl who reads knows most the ineluctable significance of an end. She is comfortable with them. She has bid farewell to a thousand heroes with only a twinge of sadness.

Don’t date a girl who reads because girls who read are the storytellers. You with the Joyce, you with the Nabokov, you with the Woolf. You there in the library, on the platform of the metro, you in the corner of the café, you in the window of your room. You, who make my life so god damned difficult. The girl who reads has spun out the account of her life and it is bursting with meaning. She insists that her narratives are rich, her supporting cast colorful, and her typeface bold. You, the girl who reads, make me want to be everything that I am not. But I am weak and I will fail you, because you have dreamed, properly, of someone who is better than I am. You will not accept the life that I told of at the beginning of this piece. You will accept nothing less than passion, and perfection, and a life worthy of being storied. So out with you, girl who reads. Take the next southbound train and take your Hemingway with you. I hate you. I really, really, really hate you."

- From You Should Date An Illiterate Girl by Charles Wanke (I know we've all had enough of these Date A Girl Who *insert favorite hobby in the world here* but I couldn't resist. I loved this.)