Wednesdays-I'm-N-lalalalaLOVE

Wednesdays I’m-n-love
MONTHLY PERIOD POETRY READINGS AND OPEN MIC FEATURING JOEL TOLEDO IN CONVERSATION WITH MIKAEL CO WITH CHOLO GOITA, CALOY PIOCOS, DINO MANRIQUE, MIA TIJAM, HUSSEIN MACARAMBON, HOSTED BY ANDREA TERÁN


URBAN INTERVENTIONS AND STREET ACTIONS ARTIST PRESENTATION MARK SALVATUS / PILIPINAS STREET PLAN



MARCH 28 /WEDNESDAY, BAR OPENS 7 PM
GREEN PAPAYA ART PROJECTS, for updates please check http://papayapost.blogspot.com/


Descends the hourly downpour, reclaiming the tropical landscape maybe. Putting aside soaring oil prices, impending rice shortage, plight of migrant workers in the Middle East alongside GMA's P11 million growth this year, brighter prospects are yet in our horizon. Cheers to our beloved colleagues – knock outs at the recent auction at Borubodur, Singapore! Perhaps signaling the much needed facelift to Philippine contemporary art practice. A stronger shot in the arm is the much anticipated National Art Gallery's New Contemporary Art Projects exhibit Room 307: Inkling Gutfeel and Hunch on May 30 at National Museum. Yes, work hard and party harder.



After an intimate yet raucous closing party of Gina Osterloh's Shooting Blanks last Wednesday, Green Papaya was temporarily transported beyond the cinematic frames of Khavn de la Cruz's short films with Tonight I Will Love You Forever video installation curated by Norberto Roldan last Saturday. It's Wednesday once again and to cap off our monthly wait is our Monthly Period Readings with featured reader Joel Toledo in conversation with Mikael Co on the various shades and meaning of 'bayaw' and 'wasak.' Back to back with Mark Salvatus presentation on urban interventions and street actions of Pilipinas Street Plan. Meanwhile, a last shout out for W.O.P Residency which closes on May 30. Send out your proposals and as usual the moment is now.

Moving a house.

Sit on the floor and pack all your things into a big box, and you start thinking about how you never seem to have enough money for the right things. But more than enough for the wrong ones.

Don't even get me started on time.

Lin-tech.

I don't have to be at the office most fridays. We have a rotation system, and mostly, I only have to go every three fridays or so. Which is good, yes?

Not if you actually have a lot of work to do. So what's stopping me from voluntarily going on Fridays, right? Right. Like you would. Besides, think about the distance between Pasay and Quezon City. And the fact that I have to commute. (Insert recent pickpocket incident here, too. But I've been playing that card too much already, I think.) And the fact that it's hot and humid. Right. We understand each other now.

So I get a call at 9 AM, someone's asking me to send a fax. No problem. I have the letter ready, I have a fax software thingy in my laptop, and my mobile can act as a modem, right? Wrong. Like, totally Vrong. Or at least I don't know how to do it.

If technology is supposed to make my life easier, someone hired a really good ad agency. Goddamit. I have been at this for hours. Only to find that I can send a fax through an analog connection, but not digital. Digital! Is there something wrong with this, or is it just me?

I mean, opposable thumbs were a turning point in evolution. Look at humans, monkeys, pandas. One group is struggling sending faxes through mobile phones, another can be found using tools in the jungle (and in zoos), the last is endangered. See how far we've come?


Poooo-tech.

I take it back. God is everywhere.

Even at a Juan dela Cruz Band benefit concert. Right smack in the middle as a matter of fact--when the audience was asked to praise the lord. All with "all-together-now!" and "once-more-with-feeling!" enthusiasm. Lord, I miss the days of backmasking rumors and mullet-haired, mustachioed rockstars.

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And, yes, Karma too. This time in the hustle-bustle of the LRT 1-MRT connection. I may not be in a wheel chair now (knock-on-wood), but lost my wallet to a pickpocket. I was broke to begin with. Now I'm freakin' vroke. Yes, with a V. For Very.

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But it's not all bad news. Chingbee and Mark had an excellent show at Green Papaya. I can't help but say show. There was talk of poetry, yes. But we tackled infidelity too. And needs. And dealing with dismissive comments. Even footnotes. Chingbee got interviewed twice. And I heard there were Manila Times/Standard people taking down notes. Or maybe they were just there for the free beer. Yep, two cases. Free. Vree.

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(test. test-mic. one-two.) "Eheheerm. I would like to thank my parents, my sisters, my friends, but most of all "the one who created everything" (cf. Mike Hanopol) for the love and support. They was the most important person in my life. Last but not least, I would like to thank Green Papaya for giving me a spot on the Wednesdays-I'm-N-Love WOP, for the free beer during the readings (also when I'm broke and have to commute), the excellent venue, and for the residency. I thank you. Bowwoohoo!" Transcript of my thank-you speech in my head. I did the victory dance last Wednesday. I love GP, Donna and Peewee, and Joaquin. Kahit "friends lang" kami. Vlove. Salamat!!!

What was that? Oops, too late. Nagpa-inom na ako nung Mierkules. Vleh.

Karma is everywhere.

A friend who had just moved into a new apartment had told me he suspects that his new neighbors used to live in Molave, that dorm in UP where he too, used to stay. "Why is that a problem?" I asked. He clarified that they were the same group who had held prayer meetings in college and that they would pester everyone to join them then, complete with the guilt trip. So now, being pretty sure they were the same guys, he hides in his room like a paranoid conspiracy theorist whenever they're out and about the hallway. I told him, "But God is everywhere. He can see you hiding. [Put Twilight Zone music here.]"

Now I take it back. It's not God, for all her/his omniscience. It's Karma that's everywhere.

I am currently being punished for all the bad things I have said about anyone at any given point (hence my theory that Karma is everywhere). But mostly it might be because of things I have said of a certain writer who might or might not have an extra chromosome which can lead to certain facial features wrongly described as those common to a race of people living in the Asiatic regions, specifically based on a country north of China, bordering Russia. Gets?

(Am I safe?)

Anyway, so yeah, I'm being punished. Because now, my prayers have been answered and now I don't have to deal directly with that person. Instead, I am now saddled with an egotistical, no-manners, fifty-something writer who is an old maid.

Ah shit. There goes my karma again.

Since that's shot, can I just say: I am mad at people who feel like they have to keep certain agenda secret, and thus use people to achieve their goals without full disclosure. Note to you-of-that-kind: I have a fucking brain. And (gasp!) it works without a hitch more often than not. As a matter of fact, it's been studied that the brain improves when it is constantly engaged. So, let me use it once in a while, huh? Let me worry about what it can and cannot handle.

Ay potah. If you see me in a wheelchair next week, say it with me: Karma is everywhere.

Bow.

P.S. A friend once told me she met this old woman at a cafe who had told her that it is good karma to plant trees. I will be starting a garden soon. Seed donations gratefully accepted.

Wednesday-I'm-N-Love

So we started the featured readings at Green Papaya last March. Too bad I was too friggin' busy to post the details. We featured the poetry of Mookie Katigbak, interviewed by Daryll Delgado. And it was grrreatt! Thanks Larry for the original idea!

Now it's April, and we're having another run. April 30 will focus on Chingbee Cruz, to be interviewed by Mark Cayanan. And since I'm not that ngarag this month, I've invited other people too. Rearders are: Hussein Macarambon, Mikael Co, Ramil Gulle, Peachy Paderna, Mia Tijam, Jay Bordon, Anina Abola, and Angelo Suarez.

If you want read, let me know. We're looking at a jam-packed night, but the more the manier. So let's eat, drink, read poetry. For the morrow is Labor Day. Woohoo.

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By the way, GP is at 124A Maginhawa Street, Teacher's Village East. Right beside St. Vincent School. A little after the big BayanTel building on Maginhawa corner Malingap, if you're coming from Sikatuna. After 4 months, I've finally learned exactly how to get there. Heehee.

There was a map sent to me once. See if I can get a hold of it again and post it here.

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PS. GP accepting applications to the Wednesdays open platform (WOP) residency program! Asteeeg.

Deets at http://papayapost.blogspot.com/.

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Spurs versus Suns, 81-72 at the end of 3. Too-doo-doo-doo...

summer schmummer bummer

My first non-academe work has taught me the importance of summer vacation. And how going to the beach when temperatures reach the high 30s should be a basic human right.

I currently work in Pasay, near Manila Bay. Every time I see the (dirty) ocean, I think, "So close, yet so far away..."

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The 'rents were here Wednesday til late evening today. I love my mom and dad, but thank god they're now back in Iloilo. Whew.

But! I have kuwento. It's funny.

Before I went to college, my dad had sat me down to talk to me about sex. Or the not having of sex. He started with "No boyfriends for now, okay?" then proceeded to "Well, I understand you might meet someone. If you decide to enter into a relationship, no sex!" which metamorphosed into "But sex is good. And sometimes making out can lead to the point-of-no-return. So make sure you're protected!" which in turn confused the hell out of me. I told him, "Dad, you just moved from "no boyfriend" to "practice safe sex" in 5 minutes. Give me a bottom line!"

To which he replied threateningly, "Don't come home pregnant!" So I thought, "Hmmm, so I can actually get knocked up. Just don't go home."

Toto, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore.

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But here's the real kuwento. During my parent's stay here, my dad asked me, "So when can we expect a grandkid?" I pointed to my sister, the one who has a boyfriend (and regular sex, more to the point), "Why not ask her?"

My dad, in his incredible logic tells me, "But you're the first-born. You should be first."

Which I had to clarify. "You just want grandchildren, right? Not necessarily a son-in-law, right?"

And my dad goes, "Yeah, just grandkids. You don't have to get married to get pregnant, do you?"

*****
I take it back. My parents are the coolest parents in the whole wide world! They're mad I drink, they're mad I smoke, but obviously I can have all the sex I want. Woohoo.