Between China Crisis

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It was a darn good thing to have attended and shot China Crisis’ gig last night at McKinley Hill. There is something about gigs, music lovers, and I guess, photographers. At a time when many people are borderline paranoid-distrustful, such camaraderie is such a breath of fresh air!  Sometime during the gig, a total stranger handed me his camera, an apparently very new EOS 60D, and asked me to figure out the movie function controls! I was so sorry that a 60D is a piece of gear that  I haven’t tried, and couldn’t be of much help. That little encounter made me smile, though. Later on, the same guy handed me his camera again, this time for me to take his picture with China Crisis jamming it up in the background. I was happy to oblige. Afterwards, I went for a cigarette break at the side. This time two guys approached me, asking to be photographed, but they didn’t bring their cameras. Easy. One of them gave me his calling card with his email address on it. Gave him mine, in exchange. Of course I’m not exactly hoping that they will be my new best friends, but encounters like these are certainly one of the perks of the job.  Sure, standing for hours with several kilos of gear hanging on you can be a literal pain, but it sure is worth it.  Posting some outtakes now; it is 1am, and shots of China Crisis will have to wait another day.

Two of them are my friends; the rest just asked to be photographed. Perhaps I’ll never see them again, but the exchange of goodwill was great!

Toy Cam & Not Very Shy Felines

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I’ve always known that K has four cats, but until i dropped by for wine and pizza, didn’t realize 1. how fat and fluffy they are, and 2. how much they seem to like being photographed! Talk about feline poses and steady gazes. Too bad, the beautiful black one is just too lazy; after repeated coaxing and borderline begging, all i accomplished was to get her to half open her right eye. One Eye. That happens to be black, too. The dang lazy fella just looked like a lump of coal. I’m gonna need real bad ass gear for that one.

Toy Cam & a Punkin

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Went to a gig in Saguijo a couple of weeks ago, and as usual the place was jampacked. I even thought of bringing gear, but it was good that I didn’t–it would’ve been useless if not utterly stupid to lug that in a place where there’s just enough room to stand! We sort of missed the gig, as we had to content ourselves with the only available table outside the music room. If I can’t shoot sandwich, I’ll shoot punkin instead, and a toy cam will have to do.

Fuego! Still

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Instead of an essay for an opening board or such, a poem dedicated to fire, by a daughter of fire.

Baba’s Child

Hedwig de Leon

By your gait I can tell; I know

when you are off for leisure, the pace

of unhurried cadence breaking

into a dance. It never fails to rupture

my trance: the leaps, stomps and pirouettes

of bare feet on yielding grass.

At times it is the certainty, the sure

footed march to war: I feel each inhale

each exhale each breath; never

labored always calm all ways

Quiet. The perfect backdrop

to your scream in the sky; the perfect

Silence soon shattered as heaven

roars with thunder and lightning zigs

and zags across the skies.

In a hammock on your back I lie

Cradled, nibbling fruits and nuts, wondering

Why? Why must you carry me in a sack

on your back even when you fight? Or hold

me to your chest while you snooze?

A shrug.

Great. Should I pester you for an answer, pelt

You with nuts, maybe?             But then you

Opened an eye before I could:          “Because,

You said, “you are a brat.”

“My brat.“

August 2010

Fuego!

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19 Auagust 2010, and Fuego! opened at Penguin. Late post, yes, very. I kind of got a little possessive of my little fire babies, didn’t exactly want them out there in the wild cyber world. Silly, huh? But come on, give a photog a break. There was a lot that went on: African drummers came, Earth dancers came, goodness, even my Mom came. That really was the biggest surprise of the night. I was scared of a people-less opening, but No, we ended up drinking beer on the sidewalks. It was a fun night, problem is I couldn’t document it. Good thing some friends took some. Coming up, soon!

Indie Goddess Returns

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30 October, 2010.

So, Cynthia Alexander, the indie rock goddess who gave me insomnia singing I-N-S-O-M-nia, left last summer, hied of to Seattle to test its musical waters.  You know that discomfiting spot, like wishing someone the best best best, yet that little selfish part of you is afraid that she might never come back, and you’d have to book a flight to somewhere int the US to catch her gig again?  That selfish fear was so transparent Cynthia chided me with “Really?” when i wished her luck. I said Of course I do, but I certainly wish you’d come back and gig still.  It was with excitement that we cheered her gig in New York. Yes, New York! and at the same time chewed our fingernails: let’s hope she visits and gigs here still!

The irony of it all. In many ways it pains me that (not only) in my country, undoubtedly talented musicians perform in tiny bars like Conspiracy, while some not so talented ones can fill the Big Dome (Araneta Coliseum in Cubao).  At the same time my friends and I so enjoy those gigs, and we can never find that level of fun and musical high in a place as big as the Dome.

But anyway. Let’s cut through the chase, as my title already did, anyway. Cynthia Alexander is back, will be here until April, and going back to Seattle. So if I were you, I’d catch all the gigs i could, to see me through the next visit.

Fuego!

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How do I say that I do not exactly expect anyone (all right, except for maybe 4 or 5 people) to understand why I am posting photos of fire, or why i took pictures of fire, to begin with? There is a whole story behind it that I cannot at the moment share, simply because it is still being written. The story can wait, and so (I thought) can the images. But they won’t. Anyway, whoever said that Patience is a Fire’s virtue? By the way, there were no special effects, and neither were they special candles. Until Baba Shango made them so.

y

At The Market

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Friends and I had to scour a couple of markets in search of live chickens. Native ones, too. Okay, a trip to the market on a hung over, sleep deprived morning is probably not everyone’s idea of a pleasant way to start the day, and trust me, it’s not mine either.  There is of course this minor complication of me being terrified of things that go Clack. Or is it Cluck? But then you’re there and you got gear, so do what you do best. Ready, aim, fire. The only way for me to survive markets, really. Not to mention chickens.  No, the chicken photos will have to wait.