Housekeeping

Ribbon Para Kay Pechay

July 18th, 2009

Last Thursday, my daughter Faith showed us a note from her teacher. It says she needs to be in school early to receiveĀ  her award in a drawing contest. Her school had its feast day, that’s why. Anyway, because I’m a member of the Assosaciones de las Escenarios Madres (isteyj muders), I volunteered to take her to MCMC but in reality — only wanted to take pictures of her.

Syempre, nakakaproud naman sa isang nanay yun, divets? Nakakataba ng puso pag nalaman mo na kahit papano nagsisikap ang bagets at napapansin naman ang kanyang mga efforts. Pero ang Pechay, pa-humble effect pa. Kesyo dapat daw di sya nanalo kasi di naman nya ginalingan, na pangit ang gawa nya. Ako naman super convince na “anak, magtiwala ka sa sarili mo! Nasa genes yan, magaling ang tatay at nanay mo!”. Mga ganung tipo ng litanya ba. Naloka ang bata. Kala siguro nya, siya lang ang may mga killer lines.

Nang tatanggapin na nya ang ribbon (na super sa pagkatingkad na red), ano ka, sigawan ang mga klasmeyt ng kuya nya. May fans pala ang bruha. Hehe. (Speaking of the bruhilda, ayan nagrereklamo na naman. Bilhan daw sya ng Pao liniment. Masakit ang tuhod. Ngeks. Isa sa mga routines nya bago kami matulog ay mag-ayos ng kama. Tigilan ko na daw kasi ang kauutos sa kanya na mag-ayos ng kama. Hitad!).

Hindi naman ako halatang stage mom kasi nakapost din ngayon sa FB ko ang mga pictures nya. At bago magtampo ang panganay ko, sunod na blog entry ay para naman sa kanya.

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Congrats uli, bebegel. Wavyu anak.

I’m wishing naman for this. šŸ˜€

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Reading Maya

May 9th, 2009

loneliness_by_soulofautumn87
“Alone”
(Maya Angelou, 1981)

Lying, thinking
last night
How to find my soul a home
Where water is not thirsty
And bread loaf is not a stone
I came up with one thing
And I don’t believe I’m wrong
That nobody,
But nobody
Can make it out here alone.

Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.

There are some millionaires
With money they can’t use
Their wives run around like banshees
Their children sing the blues
They’ve got expensive doctors
To cure their hearts of stone.
But nobody
No nobody
Can make it out here alone.

The Perturbing Genius of Bertolucci and My Own Journey to Filmdom

April 6th, 2009

Never have I been so preoccupied about films but lately, Jun and I had been spending time doing movie marathons. Our current faves include the Bertolucci obras (aside of course from the current Oscar nominees — The Reader, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, and the Slumdog Millionaire). What’s so exciting about his films, I guess, are their unique qualities. It sort of, leaves a different kind of aftersensation…the same thing you experience after eating something you have not tasted in your whole life!


Ang Jologs na Batang Moviegoer, Bow!

I remember the first time I ever went inside a movie house, that was in grade school. I think I was six or seven at that time. My cousins, who were teenagers and in their early twenty’s loved hanging out andĀ  would tag me along. Quite bizarre though, I cant seem to recall all the details…told you, I have selective amnesia. But that’s another story. My cousins loved Sharon Cuneta flicks, so I actually feasted on “Bituing Walang Ningning”, “Bukas Luluhod ang Mga Tala”, “Dapat Ka Bang Mahalin”, etc.

The moviehouse was also accesible as it is only a few steps away from my cousins’ place. Every now and then, we would sneak inside and had time crying and laughing with Sharon (cry when she’s api-apihan and rejoice after she wins over the evil characters!). Now the memories are pouring in.

In fourth grade, a Cherrie Gil scene ensued between two classmates supposedly arguing on who spreads ugly rumors about the other. One fine day, Miss ten-year old snooty went straight to the sari-sari store where the girl classmate is and flung a seemingly heavyweight-boxer’s palm on the latter’s face. Ouch! The next day, both of their parents were asked to report to the principal’s office. I was that arrogant little girl. lol. Laki ng impluwensiya.

Well, that’s my first taste of movies. Up to now, I didn’t know how they managed to get me inside when staff of the moviehouse are supposed to be strict on letting children in.

Siguro close sila. Whatever.


Memorable Movies

notting_hillAnd then there were movies that stayed fresh all these years, simply because they remind me of good times with friends and people close to my heart. After my adventure as a kid, my visit to the cinema became inexistent. I guess it’s pretty normal since parents tend to be overprotective and don’t want their children to be ‘exposed’ to a different world, if you know what I mean. In our family — even watching TV has its own censorship board. We had to cover our eyes whenever there are kissing scenes, or had to leave when the artists’ portrayal of their roles reach the intimate level, meaning, they were doing something you are not supposed to see.

But in college, I had the ‘luxury’ to watch movies again. I was a working student during the time, so I had extra income from my stint at a local foodhouse. How can I forget Julia Roberts in ‘Notting Hill’? It was the first time I bought movie ticket from my own pocket for my sister Grace. Then there was Diabolique (I love Sharon Stone’s intense character) — I guess I was with the girls (my friends in College).

As you can see, I have very limited knowledge on this for two main reasons: financial (I’m not like most teenagers who were born to more affluent families, sorry) and time. I was just too focused on other things that this area comes last in my list of priorities. Only now that I’m getting older (and wiser, I hope) that I have decided to live life to the fullest and enjoy every moment. Hey, we only live once.

My Sudden Encounter With Bertolucci

I credit hubby’s love for the arts, theater, music, and lit for this whole new experience. His interests somehow allowed me to tread into new waters. In this case, being more aware of other films (not just commercial ones, but those with deeper meanings, those that delve into social consciousness and the likes). Along with Bertolucci’s, we watched other films like Diarios de Motocicleta, Machuca, to name a few.

Who is Bernardo Bertolucci, by the way?

Bernardo Bertolucci is an award-winning Italian film director and screenwriter. (I am basing this from Wikipedia). He was the elder son of a poet, a reputed art historian, an anthologist and a film critic named Atillio. No wonder, his background became a moving factor in his growing up years. If I grew up to be in this kind of environment, who knows, lol… Indeed, he was very young when he showed his writing prowess to the hilt. The events that ensued were history.

Warning:Ā  some of the reactions below are purely ‘personal’ opinion and are thus, biased. They are not reviews or something.

ULTIMO TANGO A PARIGI (1972)

English translation: Last Tango in Paris. This movie casted Marlon Brando and Maria Schneider as its lead characters and this was apparently inspired by Bertolucci’s idea and sexual fantasies of seeing a beautiful nameless woman on the street and having intercourse with her without ever knowing who she was. Reminds me of Erica Jong’s “zipless f–k” in her novel Fear of Flying.

Anyway, this film (like many other Bertolucci movies) will surely discomfort the otherwise conservative MTCRB in our beloved Phillippines. There were scenes I particularly found disgusting, but real. In other words, parang hinahalukay ang sikmura mo.

And unfortunately for Schneider — the setting was 70s and the era definitely views this film as pornographic. Period.

End result? Schneider began and ended her career in a snap!

One more thing, you won’t mistake Bertolucci’s creations with anybody else. His scenes shouts of eccentricity, erotism, and excellent use of visuals. Like when Paul (Marlon Brando) and Jeane (Maria Schneider) first met. Like the scene depicting blood all over the bathroom, splashes on the curtains, on the walls, on the bathtub.

Jun and I agreed that perhaps it was his age and experience (or the lack of it? remember, this is his first) that’s a big factor in his depiction of the film. But generally, Ultimo A Parigi is still something.

I SOGNATORI (2003)

English translation: The Dreamers. Bertolucci did not fail to impress his brand of eccentricity in this masterpiece. Beautifully created.

(To be continued and to be edited. Will somebody please be kind enough to finish this for me? Hehehe)


Collections

September 20th, 2008

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