A ninety-year old woman charges his seventy year-old ward to supper; he quickly acts and pleasantly obliges her with an almost excited indulgence. She tells him to put on the table his place-setting, and to fill his plate with freshly made or yesterday's left-over rice; next, she spoon-serves into a bowl for him … a meager portion of the one-dish meal she took time to prepare. You could tell from his obligatory obedience to her prodding that this was an interaction long established. You could observe as well from the almost calculated movement and exchange of action-reaction that this was not only a rhythmic act, but one into which they have, in a long while, stepped into and perfectly danced.
Monday, April 27, 2015
Madonna&Child
34 ...
A ninety-year old woman charges his seventy year-old ward to supper; he quickly acts and pleasantly obliges her with an almost excited indulgence. She tells him to put on the table his place-setting, and to fill his plate with freshly made or yesterday's left-over rice; next, she spoon-serves into a bowl for him … a meager portion of the one-dish meal she took time to prepare. You could tell from his obligatory obedience to her prodding that this was an interaction long established. You could observe as well from the almost calculated movement and exchange of action-reaction that this was not only a rhythmic act, but one into which they have, in a long while, stepped into and perfectly danced.
A ninety-year old woman charges his seventy year-old ward to supper; he quickly acts and pleasantly obliges her with an almost excited indulgence. She tells him to put on the table his place-setting, and to fill his plate with freshly made or yesterday's left-over rice; next, she spoon-serves into a bowl for him … a meager portion of the one-dish meal she took time to prepare. You could tell from his obligatory obedience to her prodding that this was an interaction long established. You could observe as well from the almost calculated movement and exchange of action-reaction that this was not only a rhythmic act, but one into which they have, in a long while, stepped into and perfectly danced.
Friday, April 17, 2015
Dirt-Shock
33 ...
You could easily survey with your eyes the entire house you arrive into and tell that its occupants either have turned their eyes blind on its upkeep or simply did not have respectable care for the place you loaned them as home for a good nine years almost. You could quickly spot the built up stains on the walls everywhere. Especially annoying with this ‘eye-walk’ are the spattered stains and marks you could not miss (from who knows where they came from), and the grime around the kitchen sink, the tiled counters surrounding it, and the splatter areas where an old stove and mini cookers sit. You could not likewise miss the almost diminished caulking between tile work, now replaced by an utterly ugly mix of dirt and grease. You almost do not want your skin to get nowhere near it thinking it might send you to your sickbed. You make it a point to slug that scene off, and then you force your eyes to roam somewhere else, but they anyway end up scrutinizing ledges all around the now vacant space thick with dust; aged dust, that is, which almost appears as if it were an intentional paint design now. Windows into which you look have the same sorry lot. Seeing through it is a chore because of the barrier stamp, cloud-like, and permanently-etched film that found its niche there for good. Cupboards and cabinets, where they stand, have the same unspeakable state of neglect and abuse. Worse … and far-sickening than all you’ve found is your discovery of a 'corner roach motel' at the top-most part of a wardrobe drawer, along with far settled inch-thick dust. You could almost understand the meaningless question constructs ofWhy's, or How’s this battered condition of the house came to be. You might as well drop the search for answers to utter neglect you encounter. You best not even ask. If you want to use again this house you find in bleak care and disarray, you best get boldly committed to work with your energy boosters and hands. Realize too that the chore ahead does take time to accomplish!
You could easily survey with your eyes the entire house you arrive into and tell that its occupants either have turned their eyes blind on its upkeep or simply did not have respectable care for the place you loaned them as home for a good nine years almost. You could quickly spot the built up stains on the walls everywhere. Especially annoying with this ‘eye-walk’ are the spattered stains and marks you could not miss (from who knows where they came from), and the grime around the kitchen sink, the tiled counters surrounding it, and the splatter areas where an old stove and mini cookers sit. You could not likewise miss the almost diminished caulking between tile work, now replaced by an utterly ugly mix of dirt and grease. You almost do not want your skin to get nowhere near it thinking it might send you to your sickbed. You make it a point to slug that scene off, and then you force your eyes to roam somewhere else, but they anyway end up scrutinizing ledges all around the now vacant space thick with dust; aged dust, that is, which almost appears as if it were an intentional paint design now. Windows into which you look have the same sorry lot. Seeing through it is a chore because of the barrier stamp, cloud-like, and permanently-etched film that found its niche there for good. Cupboards and cabinets, where they stand, have the same unspeakable state of neglect and abuse. Worse … and far-sickening than all you’ve found is your discovery of a 'corner roach motel' at the top-most part of a wardrobe drawer, along with far settled inch-thick dust. You could almost understand the meaningless question constructs ofWhy's, or How’s this battered condition of the house came to be. You might as well drop the search for answers to utter neglect you encounter. You best not even ask. If you want to use again this house you find in bleak care and disarray, you best get boldly committed to work with your energy boosters and hands. Realize too that the chore ahead does take time to accomplish!
Tub-Crime
32 ...
At the end of a grueling day, nothing is more soothing to a weary body than a warm water bath. You almost dream about such an experience. Not this very night though. Tonight, you would have to tolerate the built-up grime on the bathtub's wall and bed, along with its creepy, ugly and sickening splendor, 'ad nauseum'. Tonight, you also get to make do with much worse - a smelly, cold and muddled water flow from the spigot! A dual crime plot like that, by all measure, is the worst crime you could impose on someone's body and soul after almost twenty seven thousand miles of tiresome air travel.
At the end of a grueling day, nothing is more soothing to a weary body than a warm water bath. You almost dream about such an experience. Not this very night though. Tonight, you would have to tolerate the built-up grime on the bathtub's wall and bed, along with its creepy, ugly and sickening splendor, 'ad nauseum'. Tonight, you also get to make do with much worse - a smelly, cold and muddled water flow from the spigot! A dual crime plot like that, by all measure, is the worst crime you could impose on someone's body and soul after almost twenty seven thousand miles of tiresome air travel.
Impact
31 ...
Indeed, a house is not a home. It simply is a structure that provides protection from weather-related elements, and man-made life threats. After a tiresome flight from US west to Asia east, you come to such a house which used to be your very own little abode, in the heart of Metro Manila. Though somewhat clutter-cleared now, the numerous wall cracks, rusty window grill stains, scratches and dents, wear-and-tear aging, grime and filth build-up could no longer hide. The house, now almost rid of immaterial family-collected possessions, stands empty, yet its lack of common sense care or total neglect slams at you, gawks at you, and hits you hard down in your stomach pit.
Indeed, a house is not a home. It simply is a structure that provides protection from weather-related elements, and man-made life threats. After a tiresome flight from US west to Asia east, you come to such a house which used to be your very own little abode, in the heart of Metro Manila. Though somewhat clutter-cleared now, the numerous wall cracks, rusty window grill stains, scratches and dents, wear-and-tear aging, grime and filth build-up could no longer hide. The house, now almost rid of immaterial family-collected possessions, stands empty, yet its lack of common sense care or total neglect slams at you, gawks at you, and hits you hard down in your stomach pit.
Saturday, March 28, 2015
Convention
30
…
“Early to bed and early to rise makes one jolly and bright,” says an adage; it touches on procedural habit. On the surface, it appears that a good habit is worth keeping. How many times have you heard that if something were working well, change is unnecessary? But how about when a habit gets lackluster? What then? Every act that is predictable could become cumbersome, eh? And who wants predictability in life? While you want routine as a basis for structure, you just could not welcome it all the time. Change in preferences adds spice and spunk to daily life. Divergence allows for room to discover new attitudes and experiences; best of all, it creates openness to possibilities. No questions then; on convention vs. change debate, the one that suits your daily life is the right path!
“Early to bed and early to rise makes one jolly and bright,” says an adage; it touches on procedural habit. On the surface, it appears that a good habit is worth keeping. How many times have you heard that if something were working well, change is unnecessary? But how about when a habit gets lackluster? What then? Every act that is predictable could become cumbersome, eh? And who wants predictability in life? While you want routine as a basis for structure, you just could not welcome it all the time. Change in preferences adds spice and spunk to daily life. Divergence allows for room to discover new attitudes and experiences; best of all, it creates openness to possibilities. No questions then; on convention vs. change debate, the one that suits your daily life is the right path!
Divergence
29
…
Why
are two beings unable to view situations with same or similar eyes? There are many reasons, of course. Music, for one, could be noise to the
other. An extravagant expense to a woman
is just an indulgence well-earned to a man.
A joint expense account in his view works well, but her thought is that
a separate account expense is just as good.
Spend all money or save a little for emergencies? Buy property now or wait while? Invest in something or divest from it? Live prudently or frivolously? Like something or dislike it? Individuals are just diverse in thought and
opinion; it is a given, after all, that everyone is wired differently. Unless two souls are mutually open to hear
and listen to one another’s idea on just about anything that requires a
decision, east is east and west is west!
Noise
28
…
You choose to pleasurably workout mid of day. As you get to the Y’s upper gym canopy for a mile walk-and-jog or so, you claim the quiet and tempered climate of the place as gifts from heaven. Shortly, however, both get robbed. Basketball and volleyball courts underneath the canopy get invaded by rowdy, energetic tweens and yuppies. The dribbling begins; thuds of basketballs pollute tiringly your ears. As if that were not enough irritation, basket misses slam and shake the shared spaces. Add to all of it the voices of dismay and mocking that rattle the already loud environ. You think that by twelve noon Saturday, the Y would be free of raucous. Wrong! You didn’t expect it, but there it was. Noise, when productive towards your mental and physical well-being, is good, but when it deafens your already handicapped ears, it is nothing less than torture. Because you are the challenged soul, you have no recourse, but retreat.
You choose to pleasurably workout mid of day. As you get to the Y’s upper gym canopy for a mile walk-and-jog or so, you claim the quiet and tempered climate of the place as gifts from heaven. Shortly, however, both get robbed. Basketball and volleyball courts underneath the canopy get invaded by rowdy, energetic tweens and yuppies. The dribbling begins; thuds of basketballs pollute tiringly your ears. As if that were not enough irritation, basket misses slam and shake the shared spaces. Add to all of it the voices of dismay and mocking that rattle the already loud environ. You think that by twelve noon Saturday, the Y would be free of raucous. Wrong! You didn’t expect it, but there it was. Noise, when productive towards your mental and physical well-being, is good, but when it deafens your already handicapped ears, it is nothing less than torture. Because you are the challenged soul, you have no recourse, but retreat.
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