Asong Ulul

10 09 2007

Pardon me for the title.

Yesterday Marlon, Tin and myself went on a photo shoot  to cover the newly installed art works for the Laneway Commissions 2007.  This particular photo is of the Gates of Hell art installation by Heather B. Swan.  At first glance the photo is disturbing and aggressive, but strangely, despite its frightening form it draws you and entices you to come closer and touch it.

The way I read this piece is that it pushes you to get involved in matters that really move you and asks you to refrain from leading a life of mediocrity.  So that whenever you are asked why you’re leading the life you are in now, you will have a reason more substantial than saying you chose this path because it is comfortable.

Wow lalim men.  Haha.


Designer Dreams

14 03 2007

I’ve always had this dream of getting into the design field, be it through illustrations/photos, DIY crafts or interior design. I remember the summer before my last year in high school, me and my cousin ate Joan began calling interior design schools around the Philippines to inquire about tuition and application processes. Now I can’t remember why I got into sociology… Anyway, my childhood dream of becoming a wedding planner, I think, was fueled by the design aspect of it, and not the happily-ever-after illusion. A few years ago, I spent the idle months of my life post-university surrounded by hammers, small nails, light bulb (or globe as Aussies term them), wires and handmade papers creating table lamps. And when that didn’t suffice, I learned candle-making via the internet and was able to produce enough to sell them and create a name for the business complete with its own tag line and labels and packaging and its own financier/manager – my Dad hehehe.

I have almost forgotten about these now swept-aside desires until I came across her and her. Now the desires have been re-ignited and again I want to be like them when I grow up. Badly. Will someone find me a good course on graphic design or just design in general. Quick!


Got a haircut today in the Korean-owned salon a few buildings down our street. My stylist’s name was Bobo (don’t pronounce it in Tagalog please, lest it becomes demeaning). She’s one interesting character, very chatty, struggling with English but very warm and genuine. She had to translate her thoughts from Korean to English and then transform them into words but I liked talking to her. I have never met anyone as precise with cutting hair as her, I was beginning to think she wanted to render my comb useless by sculpting my hair so perfectly that I would never have to comb it again.

I love the way it turned out, and long hair is just not for me.


And I am going to experience my first brush with the high art of ballet this weekend because we are going to watch the Australian Ballet production of Don Quixote this Saturday. Fantastic.