Oaxaca....

Early morning, waking up to a beautiful town, taking in and breathing all that I can. Oaxaca... I've been in Mexico for a week and a half, and it was not until yesterday that I arrived in a town 6 hours away from Mexico City, only to wish I arrived days ago.

I know, I know....It has been more than a month since I last blogged, and as much as I want to write a long description of everything---from my travels to emotions since coming back from the motherland--- I only have a few minutes until I hop on another 5 hour ride to the Oaxaca shore. Its not like I abandoned this website...its just that everytime I start writing, I never get to finish because I got so much to express. But being in this relaxed atmosphere, just allows me to take a breath...

Don't get me wrong, Mexico City is a nice city.... but, just get away from the day-to-day hustle and bustle of what any major city offers, and take a deep breath of fresh air...

I was here for the Foundry Workshop that ended last Saturday. It was a good experience in which I met a lot of talented folks and saw a lot of inspiring work... reality checks for sure...that's a good thing and bad I suppose. Depends how you look at it... perception..Schrodinger's Cat....

Transit Trance

May 16, 2008
10:40 a.m.
Hong Kong International Airport

Airports are so interesting. So many people just going… coming home, leaving home, in transit, stopping by, passing through. People searching, finding, wandering, discovering, risking, looking for a better life, wanting to run away, yearning for a vacation, on a romantic rendevous, a honeymoon, a mundane business trip, an adventure, ----waiting, walking, running, singing, talking, humming, pushing, carrying, holding, crying, laughing, hugging---excited, tired, scared, sad, hopeful, in love, sulking in heartache, asleep, awake—in between emotions, in between memories, in between countries, in between leaving and arriving…in transit.

All the above. Let’s just say a mixture of everything. Halo-halo. That’s one way to describe it. Halo-halo…A common dessert drink found on every corner in the Philippines. One of the MANY things I will miss. Halo-halo, which translates to “mix-mix” is how I feel right now. Sagada halo-halo to be exact…. I mean, I never had halo-halo like what Sagada offered….a whole mixture of crushed ice with banana, lanka, macoroni, ice-cream, flan, milk, sugar, beans, cantalope, coconut, etc… it was a surprise in every bite! But none-the less, sweet. Every ingredient was and is unique… and each a different taste… that’s how I feel. Except its not just a handful of ingredients, it’s a plethora of experiences, feelings, and memories of people I have met and places I have been, and the lessons and realizations that come with it all----mixed all together, blended together, resulting in a sweet concoction.

a tattooed heart

i'm sitting in front of my laptop, and I'm kinda speechless in what to write. I just don't know where to begin. my gosh, this trip has been amazing. when one is about to leave a place that has permanently made a mark in her heart, things become more sweet, time spent with people becomes more valuable and yet still unbelievable. hard to grasp. that's what it is... until I'm on that plane overlooking the vast Pacific Ocean and am in the clouds will I be in that "transit trance."

I wanted to come back to the states with a "piece" tattooed on my back. I started sketching it out in the beginning of the trip and kept on adding several elements that symbolized significances and aspects of this trip, this pilgrimage, this "lakaran." Instead of coming back with tattooed flesh, I'm coming back with a tattooed heart. Yes, yes, corny as that sounds, but how else can I put it...it has definately been a perspective-changing, heart-molding, mind-stimulating, soul-digging-and-finding- kind-of-trip.

Time definately went by fast. I've met a lot of people and thankful for EVERY second.

damn....hours before i leave. too many emotions to describe. too be continued.... still in the process...

no camera, just painting with my words

when your heart won't let you sleep, it has to mean something. for the past couple of nights, its either really hard for me to sleep or I've been waking up in the middle of the night. I'm not quite sure why. I do have a feeling of anxiety tho. I don't know if it is because I'm so close to going home, or because I'm leaving a place I have come to call home.
today it hit me the hardest. I woke up a little bit before 5am, just before the sun rise, when the morning seems so fresh with a hint of orange coming up in the horizon, the roosters crowing, and all the birds singing their morning songs. I swung on my hammock, with a cup of cold water thinking it could calm my heart. its the in between time. between sleep and wake. when last night's events slowly catch up to you, contemplation about things said, and feelings felt. when it gets all to much to bear, and you know you can't go back to bed, what did i decide to do? ride my bike.
there's something about early mornings that give one's soul a kind of peace. riding on empty streets, that as the sky gets brighter, people slowly wake to sweep their front yards, feed their chickens, warm up their jeepneys, or start opening up their small shops. there's something about the nice light too. how it hits the pavement or the wooden houses with a soft orange glow, or how it reflects in the puddles that i love passing my wheels right through leaving a trail of a contemplating bike rider. it's early morning when the sun doesn't beat down on you, but gently kisses your skin, slowly waking up your senses.
Awake.
After watching the hint of orange take shape into an orange ball, I turned around, and backtracked passing by the puddles I splashed through, and the streets that seemed to be more awake. Thinking that I could just exhaust myself back to sleep, I headed to my bedroom, only to have my restless heart beat more heavily. My heart is trying to tell me something, and I could only draw it out through writing, typing, reflecting...

Capturing and realizing the present moment is an art

When describing Baguio, I think my friend Sonia put it best, "Temporary insanity, lucid interval," For some people, Baguio is a weekend getaway or a short vacation, and for some it is home. For me, why do I love Baguio so much? I don't know. Maybe because it reminds me a lot of home- the weather, the diverse art scene, the hills, the warm people, etc. I really can't explain why, but I practically spent the whole last month traveling in and around Baguio and the Cordillera Mountains. The bus and jeepney rides may have been long and bumpy, but I enjoyed every minute of it.

There's something about being in transit--- on a long bus ride with strangers, heading in the same direction in silence only accompanied by the passing scenery and one's thoughts. It's reflection time. Reflecting about what one has left behind and what one is about to approach. It's in the idle time of being in transit that one laughs to herself, and quietly closes that chapter, accepts it, and gets ready for another. The closing of one chapter, does not mean the end of the connections that one has made in that particular part of her story, but rather its reviewing that chapter-- studying it, and taking every lesson one can take from it, only to not forget but to go forward with a renewed frame of mind and being. I'm not just talking about this one trip to Baguio, nor am I talking about this whole six-month trip in the "motherland," this chapter review can happen every passing day. On a bus, taxi, plane, MRT or BART, or on a road trip-- its when the vehicle is in motion, and YOU are at a stand still. Everything around you is moving, along with the thoughts in your brain, and even if you are sitting in that seat, your body is there, but your mind is pulled into depths of the past and the future.

I guess that's why I really do not mind public transporation, traveling on my own, or just "going" in general... It's a time when I get to have my own chapter review.

But when I am in the presence of others- whether it is shooting, or at a social gathering, or with family or friends- one on one or in a group setting-I am there. The present moment. Or at least I really try to be. Sometimes it is so hard to grasp because our minds have the ability to go in every which direction, so I consider it an art. It takes realizations, experiences, and mistakes to grasp the importance of the present moment. One may argue that as a photographer one really is not grasping that particular moment for what it is because we have a camera in front of our face. But, the present moment is relevant to everyone. I frame mine literally with my eye and my camera, and you frame yours with your mind. Even if I have a camera in my face and am clicking away, does not mean I am not mentally there. I'm absorbing that moment, framing that moment, recording that moment. My camera is an extension and an expression of me, and its presence already effects that moment.

Maybe my nostalgic state of mind is why I became a photographer, trying to capture every moment I can. What can I say, I'm in love with the world, its people, and the stories that are presented in the present. It becomes a piece of the past that I could share with someone in the future.




Probably one of the main reasons why I love Baguio is because I learned one of most important lessons from one of my inspirations, Mr. Kidlat Tahimik. Listen to your "sariling duwende" or little voice inside, that "unique indigenous spirit in each of us," that unique creativity that every single person has. It's your own frame of mind that you listen to, use, and apply, when performing and creating your art. It's been with you since birth and has developed throughout your life and experiences. No one has a life exactly like yours, and that is what makes your "sariling duwende" your eye, and your art different and unique. It's just about learning how to listen to it and then apply it.=)



I've learned so much throughout this whole journey. I love it! I may not be in transit, but I'm definately in reflection mode. Time is counting down, but that doesn't matter, only now does!!! Live it, learn it, love it!
------
The fire that keeps me warm tonight, will only be ashes tomorrow.
And tomorrow's ashes are evidence that there was a fire today.
And if the future's winds sweeps those ashes away,
the memory of the fire is what will keep me warm.
-me



Ay, bigat!! In english, "Gosh damn, that's heavy!"

Finally...

So on my way back from Abra, while on a 12 hour jeepney ride, I get a text from across the ocean informing me of the great news. It was an automatic BIG smile =)


Filipino WWII veterans win Senate vote on military benefits

It could be considered too late because thousands already have died without getting their benefits, but, knowing some of the veterans personally, I'm glad their fight is over. They won. Can't wait to get back to the bay to congratulate them myself=)

Road Trippin....

So before I embark on another journey through the mountains, I wanted to at least give a little snippet of these past two weeks.

It started as a trip to Sagada with my cousin, and continued on to one adventure after another. A festival in Bontoc, then three nights in Sagada--hiking to a waterfall, finding hanging coffins in Echo Valley, and a 3-hour journey through an underground river with squeaking bats along connection caves.




Followed by an bumpy 6 hour bus ride back to Baguio. Bummed around here and there to surprisingly meet with my uncle and aunt who are visiting from Alaska---who so happened to be going to Sagada. I had to join them again! So after three nights in Baguio, spent another six hours in a van back to beautiful Sagada--which led me to a bus and jeepeney ride to the WONDERFUL Banaue Rice Terraces. So wonderful, its referred as the "eighth" wonder of the world.




I know the pace I am describing these two weeks is quite fast, but let me tell you, time stops when I'm here along the Cordillera Mountains. Breathing in her fresh air, meeting the warm people here, absorbing the simplicity of life, walking through forests, climbing mountains, exploring dirt paths, and my most favorite of all dipping my feet in the rice terraces--learning how to harvest, taking photos, and talking to the farmers who spend 10-12 hours a day with their backs bent only to be paid three dollars a day. My trip through the terraces would not have been complete without feeling the muddy earth in between my toes.

I'm supposed to be somewhere in India right now... But as everyday passes, I'm glad I stuck to my gut.



(These two photos taken by talented photographer John Javellana)

The crazy photogs I was forced to cook for...haha...joke lang, but not really. Chicken manok!