Category Archives: fine art
Moonlight Over Morong
Shooting Shadows
You know those days when you’re raring to shoot but unable–or, let’s face it, too lazy!–to go out and haul gear?
taken with a Leica d-lux 5
Fortunately the plants right outside my work station provide all sorts of light play
taken with a 5D
that could border on creepy.
taken with a 5D
Sunflower, too.
Sunflower
During a photography exercise years ago, I balked at being told to photograph flowers
Until somethng in my head popped and said Whoever said they have to look like flowers?
Romancing Void
I have to take a selfie. I have to take a selfie. I have to take a selfie.
Those words echoed in my head as reality sunk in: I have just said Yes to a group show that specifically said
SELFIE.
Pretty obvious by now that I don’t indulge in the thing, except for strange reasons–like falling off the bed, waking up with a gash near the temple that I could not properly see with a mirror. Yes, I took a selfie to see how big that ugly wound was, becasue I just might need to haul my puny *ss to the ER for stitches. But I digress.
Back to the selfie–I seriously felt I ahve never worked so hard in my life, all because I dislike 1. having my picture taken, 2. posting pjhotos of me, and 3. I am not exactly a fan of the whole selfie thing. And here I am exhibitng my face?
The little project evolved into a philosphical thing–if I am to display my friggin’ face in a show anyway, might as well fo all the way, and make that a poster of what I am about, what I stand for, and what I value most.
Done. And I must thank the organizers of Bloom (Works by Women) not for being kind enough to invite me every year for the past four-five years, but this time for shaking me out of my comfort zone.
Bataan on a Whim
Crime Partner P and I took off for a drive, not much on the agenda other than, well, to drive. Or get out of Metro Manila even for just a day, and preferably, meet the sea. I wasn’t really geared to shoot, and all I brought was a Leica D-Lux 5. No monsters, this time. Turns out this toy is sort of a tiny monster, nonetheless. Heehee.
One of what felt like a hundred hairpins.
No idea what these are exactly, but they were on the entrance to the Pawikan conservation thing. By the way, The three baby pawikans were in this tiny enclosure, covered with a net. I simply did not have the heart to take thier photos. (Okay, maybe I should be a photo journalist. LOL)
Farmers, after puttng the dried grains back in the sacks.
Crime Partner P — probably comtemplating that we nearly got stuck in the sand. (Yeah, we drove our car sorta too close to the sea. heh heh)
Forget the white sand; I’d much rather be here than Boracay!
Like all good things, even a perfect day must come to an end. But what a farewell display!
Sunrise at Ugu Bigyan’s
A couple of months ago a friend and I decided to go for a long drive somewhere south, just for the heck of it. He, because he simply loves to drive, and I, because drives mean pictures! Ugu Bigyan’s was not a destination, but a quick stop-over. So quick that no one was awake when we got there (too early, apparently) and only two caretakers were up by the time we left. Didn’t have a chance to sample Ugu’s cooking, not even coffee!
We were allowed to loiter around and shoot some, though.
shadow play
I'm back.
Tony Perez: A Playwright Who Paints [with photos by Hedwig de Leon]
As part of the Tanghalang Pilipino’s retrospective of plays written by Tony Perez, he and I did a joint exhibit at the Little Theatre Lobby of the CCP. The festival lasted from 30 September to 23 October, and to my biggest chagrin, I was away on location shoot the entire time! I’m sharing it, anyway. Unfortunately, I don’t have photographs of the paintings by Tony Perez.
About the Exhibit
Antonio Benjamin Silva Perez: Novelist, poet, playwright, painter and teacher. How does one document someone whose work gets done mostly inside his head? There, the challenge lurks, skulking in utmost patience, until it lunges and threatens to fling one to despair: as a writer dreads that blank piece of paper, so does a photographer feel the terror of a blank wall waiting to be filled with images she takes. As a poet wrestles with her very marrow to produce a line of verse, so does a photographer struggle to capture an image that has in it the harmony and dissonance, the light and the darkness, the yin and the yang.
Or, as Tony Perez would put it, the Eros and the Thanatos. Only after such misery does the Muse relent, and be it poem or photo, the images come. Then, and only then, is the challenge met. Hopefully.
*Photos chosen from over two hundred, taken over a period of nineteen months.
H Photography 