Friday, March 18, 2011

a measure of loss

i like to think there's a reason to everything - but at the moment i'm at a loss to think of a single reason behind the devastation that happened to Japan.

To those who lost their lives, may they all find peace in the never ending circle of light. And to those who are left alive, may you all have strength and love to face the long and silent nights.

Singapore Red Cross is accepting donations for the Japan disaster. For details, please click here.

Monday, June 02, 2008

lost in translation my way

I should have listened to Mimi. A few months ago, she told me to take a Japanese language class. I said I will, as one often does when the wife tells you to do something better than hang around the house beating computer games, or at times when you’re watching the most exciting part of the TV show, or when you’ve finally reached the last few pages of a novel where every word must be read with such gravity so you have a better closure.

So I said yes to her in my vague non-committed but reassuringly non-dismissive way. Of course, I never did went to the class. Well, too late for that now. Adrift in Tokyo, with a few Japanese words in my pocket, mostly from my Aikido training, which are pretty useless out on the streets when you can’t find your damn hotel.

Enter a store, pick any, and the sound builds up to a cacophony of echoes as everyone shrieks out a staccato of “Sumimasen!” and other cryptic greetings they hurl at you.

Welcome to Japan.

It’s a land where the cool factor is a way of life. Where being in one with style is an art form.

The boys are way too cool, the girls are way too prettified. Shu Uemura and Shiseido made sure of that. It seems like each girl you see is a black-belt makeup artist and she has her face as canvas, and everyday is a one-woman exhibition. Bow-legged but prettified.

It is a confusing city. Frustrating because of the language barrier, and perplexing at most because of the cultural barricade Japanese constantly put up.

My kid is doing better than me in the holiday department. Back in Manila, he said he just went snorkelling. He passed his silver grading swimming Survival Exam in Singapore a few weeks ago and can do over 20-30 laps (or maybe it's 50, I lost count and went shooting passing clouds instead) non-stop in an Olympic pool, make floatation out of his pants, clock 100 meters in less than 4 minutes and other magical stuff that in my better days I couldn't possibly accomplish. Now, he’s having the time of his life discovering the open sea while swimming with dolphins.

Here in Japan, I might as well talk to dolphins for all I care.

Shooting Raw offers greater range during the editing stage, but sadly, my Raw converter is in my PC back in Singapore, and my PowerBook is a dead weight with my lousy un-upgraded Photoshop CS. So though I have many pictures to share, I only got one shot in Jpeg that I can upload now. Oh well.

So watch out when I start uploading images. Rest assured when I tell you that Tokyo is probably one of the coolest places I’ve been to. Lost in translation, but cool. Where else can you find an Apple store with a live band playing inside? And the girls oh… did I mention about the girls? Well, I better keep my mouth shut or this will be my last trip away from home without a chaperone.

Either that, or Mimi will force me to learn Sign Language next.

Friday, February 23, 2007

portrait of an artist

I took a long break from anything that concerned web publishing including uploading on the blog. After a month of revising my web site, trying to hot-wire my brain to understand and speak the mind-numbing, alien language of html script, I went away with a brain burn.

Everytime I see a web program or anything that resembles it, I get a feeling darn close to hurling.

So am I cured from this web disease? Not really. So why am I back then? Well, I want to share with you the good fortune of a Filipino artist with such enormous talent.

Mario Parial (a painter of international stature comparable to the likes of Manansala, Joya, H.R. Ocampo, Cesar Legaspi, Ang Kiukok among others) was here last December 2006 with his family for a gallery opening in Singapore. My family and I met up with them.


Mario and his son Mikel (also a fantastic painter) are Leica shooters. So for the next couple of hours, we were excitedly swapping lenses like little boys with new little toys.

Here's my shot of him using his beautiful Summilux-M 50 mm f/1.4. It's a very pretty lens that is tempting me to begin spending an enormous time on ebay again. Oh well.

Just when you think you are ready to settle with a gorgeous lens like a 35 summicron, another lens comes along to shake your sturdy belief. Often, it starts with friend innocently telling you, "Hey, since you're here, why don't you try this lens on your camera?" and the next thing you know, you're spending more and more time ogling at those lenses found in auction websites with thier prices causing you heart burn. Sigh.

To get back to Mario, here's a news link on his works being included in Sotheby’s category of Southeast Asian paintings. This is the third time his works are being auctioned internationally. The latest auction is happening on April 2007 here in Singapore.

If you haven't bought any of Mario's works yet, now is the time to start getting ready for the auction. It is said that his paintings are getting harder and harder to come by.

Unlike publishing websites and reading html scripts, looking at his paintings will not give you brain burn.

In fact, you can ogle them to your heart's content.

Monday, January 08, 2007

website back to the drawing board


A few days before Christmas, I made some changes to my website. Bigger photos, easier navigation, simpler format. The intention was sound, but sadly the design was wrong. The pictures were way too big.

So my apology to those who uses 14-inch computer screen or less. A couple of friends complained that they have to scroll down to see the rest of the pictures. Not good.

Apparently, if you're using a 14-inch screen, you can see the top arrows, but not the main navigators buried underneath. Again, you have to scroll down in order to see them. I guess, it's worse for the 12-inch screen users.

I'm trying to fix them now and hoping to solve the problem. Once more, I'm sorry for the inconvenience.

Anyway, Happy New Year! All the best for 2007.

Saturday, December 23, 2006

new website up and running.

Now my site is back to the basic html. Last week, I finally had time to look at my web and got rid of flash programming. Three things prompted me to go back to the good-old html script.

First was the programming error/virus doing its rounds on Firefox and Netscape browsers that freeze the whole system when you open a web page with flash – my computer managed to get infected by it.

The next reason was the seemingly complicated way of uploading new pictures while using flash programs – an anti-thesis to what I wrote a couple of months back when I shifted to flash programming. What was simple and easy then, I found it ridiculously time-consuming now.

And the third one was the most important of all. I managed to find a way of showing huge files while securing them from downloading. It’s the main reason why I shifted to flash few months back. Flash photo gallery prohibits downloading of pictures (well, you can do a capture screen, but the resolution is not the same).

So now I can show bigger files, yet secure in my knowledge that they couldn’t be downloaded easily. I’m sure people will always find ways to get things from the web if they really want to, but I’m also sure my photos aren’t that desirable for them to spend time and effort.

I’m still uploading photos, but you can start checking them out now. The screen is huge, so no more squinting. The photos are 1000 pixels on the sides. Check out the Places section since I’m putting up more pictures fom Berlin.

I’m hoping to finish uploading most of the pictures in a few days. But you can start checking them out now. Have fun.


SPECIAL MESSAGE TO TONY TING:

Tony, Alfred from P is looking for you. I saw that you checked out my blog while you’re in Doha, Quatar (I told you I know everything and can see beyond the veils of time and distance). Do email him or me. I hope that both of you and yan are having fun. Don’t eat too much sand my friends. And damn it, take pictures but keep that Ricoh GR-D away from the sandstorm. I don’t think they’re giving you a new one when you crawl back to their servicing office again.

Wednesday, December 13, 2006

marathon man

There is something with running a race that brings out the primal joy in everyone. Even just watching it, the sheer power and perseverance of the runners get into you.

Two weeks back during the Standard Chartered Singapore Marathon, my boy finished his first race, the 750 meters Kids Dash. He wore his favourite costume, the Flash. It was awesome.

More than 35,000 people ran with him. Even more so, watched it.

Much later, before he went to bed, he proudly showed me his marathon medal. He said I should run with him next year. That we should finish the race together. That was sweet.

So next year, Dec 2, I’m running the half-marathon. That’s 21 kilometers. I’ve been running more than 5 kilometers, 3 times a week now in hopes that by next year, the distance won’t kill me.

If you have nothing else to do on Dec 2, 2007, come to Singapore and run the marathon. You can run for charity or cause, or run your own race.

If you're not convinced why you should run, simply watch how children play. They run everywhere, all the time for a reason. They run because it's fun. Only grown-ups learned to forget this.

Next year, discover it again.

Thursday, October 26, 2006

Berlin in Letters

In a short letter I penned for my Father while I was in Berlin, I noted with poignant reflection, that a city with so many war memorials doesn’t seem right.

One of the most eerie, and to many, perplexing war memorials dotting the city was the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe designed by Peter Eisenman.

Known also as the Holocaust Memorial, it consist of 19,000 square meters site covered with 2,700 concrete pillars, each stelae is 95 centimeters wide and 2,375 meters long, with each height varying from zero to 4 meters. No blocks are alike. They are arranged in a grid pattern, over an undulating field.

Each pillar is spaced 95 centimeters apart to allow only one person to navigate through the grid.

In a note written by the architect to explain the design, he declared “In this monument there is no goal, no end, no working one's way in or out,"

According to the memorial leaflet about the site, the design did not use the usual symbolism style for memorials. This very modern approach to the memorial, almost free of associations from the holocaust, is open to many interpretations.

Which, I guess, is where most criticisms come from – that the modern design helps bury the shame and horror of Germany’s darkest hours.

It is true that there is an annex below the memorial that provides background on the victims commemorated. But then, with no pun intended, it is kind of buried underground if you don’t find it.

Walking inside the concrete pillars, there are indeed eerie moments. Like when bursts of voices arrive to lightly startle you. Oftentimes laughter and shrieks from kids playing hide-and-seek among the blocks would pierce the silence. And if you turn fast enough, you'll see glimpse of them as they disappear among the blocks.


Indeed, there are times when you feel a bit lost amidst the labyrinth, fleeting moments of unease. Like you can’t go out or choose what direction to take next, that you are trapped in a never-ending cul-de-sacs.

But to declare that to walk inside the blocks was to actually feel what the victims felt during the years of monstrousity is tantamount to a denial of the horror of the holocaust itself. I don’t think we can build a monument that will duplicate the anguish and terror of that epoch.

But I guess, to me, this will do for now. When I walked in and found myself alone amidst a very narrow space, devoid of contact from anyone else, and all I saw were blocks of grey concrete walls surrounding me, with all the street sound muffled, I ended up submerged into a private world where my only companion was my thought. In a moment that was mine alone, I ended up confronting the sheer madness of it all. I said my sorry in silence.

If you continue to walk towards the southeast corner of the site, like I did, and descend down the stairs to the Information Center, you will find four small rooms with displays dedicated to the murdered Jews in Europe.

When I entered the first room, I was confronted with a letter written by a Jewish girl named Judith Wischnjatskaja who wrote to her Dad in America in 1942. It was found by a Soviet officer after the war and was sent to Jerusalem.

"Dear Father! I take my leave of you before death. We would so much like to live, but they won't let us, we will perish. I am so afraid of this death, for the small children are thrown alive into the grave. Goodbye forever. I kiss you. Your J."

She penned this letter to her Father when she was twelve years old.

There was no date given as to when she was murdered.