'You do not have to be good'

This was how I spent the first of May, doing an act of avoidance, of postponing prioritized deadlines for the challenge of translating a poem by Mary Oliver again. Today, I knocked off one deadline. Tomorrow, I'll do a Scarlett O'Hara. Thank you, Padma Perez, for posting the Oliver poem in your blog.

Wild Geese

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting –
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

--Mary Oliver

Mga Gansang Ligaw

Di mo kailangan maging mabait.
Di mo kailangan lumakad nang paluhod
Ng isang daang milya sa disyerto, humihingi ng tawad
Kailangan mo lang na payagan ang malambot na hayop ng iyong katawan na mahalin ang gusto niyang mahalin
Sabihin mo sa akin ang iyong kawalan ng pag-asa, at sasabihin ko sa iyo ang akin
Samantala patuloy ang mundo.
Samantala ang araw at ang mga malinaw na bato ng ulan
ay gumagalaw sa kalawakan
sa mga kapatagan at kalaliman ng mga puno
Sa mga bundok at ilog.
Samantala, ang mga gansang ligaw, sa kaitaasan ng malinis na bughaw na hangin
ay pauwi na muli.
Kung sino ka man, gaano ka man kalungkot,
inaalay ng mundo ang kanyang sarili sa iyong imahinasyon
tinatawag ka tulad ng mga gansang ligaw, marahas at nakakagulat—
paulit-ulit na inaanunsyo ang iyong lugar
sa pamilya ng mga bagay-bagay.

--tinangkang isalin sa Pilipino ni Babeth Lolarga

Tin Garcia on women in bondage: 'It’s all about choice. And I like to glorify choice'

Thin Tin Garcia, Tintin to others, Tintinnabulation to me, has always struck me as one of those fascinating, in-your-face young women (my measure of youth being those below 40). She is refreshingly but not brutally frank, the edges softened by her love for, uhm, floral Doc Martens.

So it is fitting that her joint exhibit with Lala Gallardo is called “Softcorps,” a play on the term “soft core” pornography because her paintings depict bound women while Lala works with fragile paper. (The show is ongoing at Pablo Gallery, Cubao Expo, Araneta Center, Quezon City, until May 6.)

Her position (I just realized there’s an unintended double entendre in my use of the word “position”) on her painting subjects may invite some controversy, she being a feminist who doesn’t shirk from being called one.

Here is how she explains her position (there, I typed it again!): “There has always been talk of The Male Gaze in art, when the viewer is subjected to the perspective of a straight male while looking at a painting or work of art. I painted my bound women to show that they chose to be bound and they would gladly be subjects of the male gaze if they can get some cathartic pleasure from it. There’s a lot of hair-splitting on whether this consciously objectifies women, but I still think paintings and works of art are best when they are left alone to ‘talk’ to the viewer and tell their own stories. It’s the only way they can have personal resonance.”

Furthermore, the 34-year-old Tin, a University of the Philippines fine arts graduate, is “intrigued by the bondage and bondage/discipline-sadomasochism (BDSM) lifestyle for a number of reasons. While it may seem like a chaotic, free-for-all kink to many, it actually has a lot of layers of trust involved before a successful BDSM partnership can push through. Suffice it to say it’s all about choice. And I like to glorify choice.”

She cites a precedent in art history: “Rembrandt painted Andromeda chained to the rocks, awaiting rescue from Perseus, which is what I’d loosely call an example of a bound woman in art. But I painted women who chose to be bound and do not wait for someone to unbind them unless they say so. Or unless they utter a ‘safe word,’ another facet of BDSM trust.”

How a singularly sensational woman like Tin arrived at her own style goes back to early summers when her mother enrolled her and her brother at summer art schools to "prevent us from wreaking havoc on our walls with colored markers. I remember drawing on my textbooks at Saint Theresa’s College instead of taking down notes. That made my school books un-hand-me-down-able to younger kith and kin. As for exhibiting my stuff, my earliest experience would be at the former Museum of Philippine Art near Rizal Park in the 1980s as an eight-year old student.”

Her former STC classmates find her “weird” because she chooses to remain “unhitched.” She can relate only with gays, straight men and a few women her age like the de Leon sisters, Sinag and Ani, and visual artist Lyra Garcellano.

As for women my age who consider Tin barkada, it is for reasons remarkably obvious.

Photo shows an oil painting by Tin Garcia.

Talks with Myself and Another

On March 3 this year at 4:50 p.m., a friend interviewed me by email when he learned I was preparing for my third solo exhibition in April. The show “Bling Blings and Lucky Me” is still up on the walls of Taumbayan, a bar at 40 T. Gener and K-1 streets, Kamuning, Quezon City. The bar is open from 6 p.m. to 2 a.m. Exhibit ends on May 8.

And this was how that online conversation went:

How does this coming exhibit differ from your previous ones?

I’ve always worked with themes when preparing for a show. This time I focused on bling blings, those fashion accessories that you and I are not into (I can only buy genuine ones if I hit the lotto jackpot, but the thing is I don’t gamble). These branded bling blings are the stuff of the lives of some senatorial, congressional and landlords’ wives. Even the salesladies at Louis Vuitton in Greenbelt Makati were quoted by the Inquirer as saying they missed the Ampatuan ladies during the Christmas season because they used to make multiple purchases and paid in cold cash. You can say that this third exhibit is my first that is tweaking a social theme: the obsession over brand names and luxury goods contrasted with the typical diet of the urban poor (instant noodles and canned sardines).

What do you think is the added advantage of writers going into visual arts, if there is any?

The writer’s advantage is his/her capacity to articulate ideas and feelings. It’s not just “Wala lang. Type ko gawin.” That kind of answer used to be a no-no to my fine arts teachers on my first year at UP Diliman, the exacting ones like Bob Feleo and Nestor Vinluan. They constantly challenged us.

Many writers paint or draw, among them, Gilda Cordero Fernando, Tita Lacambra Ayala, Cirilo Bautista, Edel Garcellano, the late art critic Leo Benesa, the late Larry Francia. In Baguio, the names I can think of are mostly women: Baboo Mondoñedo who’s a columnist of the biggest circulating community paper there; Merci Dulawan, a multi-lingual writer; Jenny Cariño, my hijada who also composes poetry, lyrics and music for her songs; Toottee Chanco Pacis, a cookbook author and theology lecturer; Chi Balmaceda Gutierrez, a magazine publisher.


How does your creative moment (s) look like? You paint at any time of the day and night?

I paint in the daytime. I rest at night. I paint because it is so pleasurable. I regret that I didn’t turn to painting earlier and concentrated on writing, but that’s how life is. Midlife allows me to pick up the “dream deferred.” I loved doing art in my grade school days; it was work education I abhorred (needlework, cooking and the like). But I won’t be a hypocrite--I never liked home arts or home economics. The things in the pantry and China cabinet—for me they’re no more than models for still life paintings. My partner will admit that I am the worst hausfrau in the world. And I won’t apologize for that. I’d much rather write or paint. And if I had to choose between writing and painting, I’d still much rather paint.


Is pursuing the visual arts anything like writers pursuing their assorted muses?


I never chased after a muse, male or female. With writing, it’s the deadline, even if it’s self-imposed, that drives me to finish an article. The same with poetry and fiction—I have an idea, feeling, an experience or I overheard unforgettable snatches of conversation. And that’s when I write. With painting, it’s the totally pleasurable, almost hedonistic, feeling of the brush in my hand, moving it across the canvas. And when the work is finished, be it a feature story or a watercolor, that’s my reward. That’s why hindi tayo yayaman, My values are different; work is its own reward.

I had a grandmother, Telesfora Lolarga, who kept herself busy always. She had a career, yes, but Lola had this gift of transforming any house she lived in into a home because of her artistic touches, her flair for setting this object against that, her appreciation for fine music. So if I have a muse, it must be her. She would’ve been proud. She kept my, my siblings’ and our cousins’ paintings, drawings, letters from childhood.


What have you learned from your past exhibits?

I learned how much fun a visual arts exhibit can be in a way being published can’t approximate. You wait long for feedback for an article or anything written and published. Most times feedback doesn’t come at all. You feel like you just “talked” into the void. At an exhibit opening, you see the people who matter in your life instantly reacting and giving immediate feedback.


What are the new works in your exhibit?

Everything is new whenever I have a solo show.

Is Baguio the best place to paint and why?

I like to paint anywhere but home. The best places there are the greenhouse of Toottee Pacis in Happy Homes, Baguio, and the extended work place of Baboo in Pinsao. I like it in those places because of abundant natural light. And those women are foodies like me; they love good food. Conversation is always light. Our teacher is Norman Chow who is extremely patient with all of us. He deserves his own show, but we, his students, are more excited about booking our own shows.

What stages have you gone through as an artist thus far?

Formal fine arts studies from 2004 to 2009, private art lessons with Bob Feleo in the early 1990s, with Pytz Santos in 2004-05 and Norman to this day. Never-ending apprenticeship with Jerry Araos who is exacting in his demand for a well thought out idea for a show before mounting anything.

What do you want to achieve as one enamoured (is this the right word) with the visual arts?

More explorations of other media I don’t have mastery over yet, more exhibits that'll challenge me.

How was your 2009 and how do you see 2010 in your creative life?

2009 was a good year. I joined the Baguio Aquarelle Society in its group shows, and I had one solo at Cafe by the Ruins in Baguio. The partners there were happy, I think, with my show because I helped brighten up their walls. I can’t say what the future holds, but I hope to continue writing, painting, helping friends put together projects, including parties, and having fun while doing all of the activities I just cited.

Anything else you want to add in connection with your exhibit?

I have to thank my fashionista daughter Ida Fernandez who doesn’t throw away fashion brochures and similar print materials. These served as my visual references. I owe my partner Rolly Fernandez a big blowout; he supported my fine art studies at UP. I thank family members and friends who continue to believe. They know who they are.

Photo by ANNA LEAH SARABIA shows the painter with friends Frances Makil Ignacio and Eyelectric president Rey Araos who gave the winning bid for the work "Oh, My Señorita, Sweet Sweet Lady." The four feet by four feet work is a collaboration with Chino Chow, a computer science student at the University of Baguio.Proceeds of the auction went to Noel Cuizon, Brenda Fajardo and Rey Rimando.

Wow Wah Wah

Willie Revillame's noontime show on the ABS-CBN free channel, also seen by Pinoys abroad through The Filipino Channel, has often been accused of contributing to the dumbing down of a nation apart from being the cause of the ULTRA stampede wherein 71 people lining up for a chance to hit the jackpot in a live Wowowee broadcast were killed.

Yesterday, I received this email from two different sources. Once, I joined a Facebook group more or less called "Wowowee is an insult to the dignity of Filipino women." I thought it was a lost cause so I left the group.

This Q & A from the show speaks for itself.

______________________________________

These are questions and actual answers of contest participants!



1. Q: "Ano sa Tagalog ang teeth?"
A: "Utong!"

2. Q: "Kung ang light ay ilaw, ano naman ang lightning?"
A: "Umiilaw!"

3. Q: "Kung vegetarian ang tawag sa kumakain ng gulay, ano ang tawag sa kumakain ng tao?
A: "Humanitarian?"

4. Q: "Sina Michael at Raphael ay mga..."
A: "Ninja?"

5. Q: "Ano ang karaniwang kasunod ng kidlat?"
A: "Sunog!"

6. Q: "Magbigay ng sikat na Willie."
A: "Willie da pooh!"

7. Q: "Ang mga Hindu ay galing sa aling bansa?"
A: "Hindunesia?"

8. Q: "Anong hayop si King Kong?"
A: "Pagong!"

9. Q: "Magbigay ng mabahong pagkain."
A: "Tae!"

10. Q: "Saang bansa matatagpuan ang mga Canadians?"
A: "Canadia!"

11. Q: "Kumpletuhin - Little Red..."
A: "Ribbon!"

12 Q: "Ano ang tinatanggal sa itlog bago ito kainin?"
A: "Buhok?"

13. Q: "Magbigay ng pagkain na dumidikit sa ngipin."
A: "Tinga!"

14. Q: "Anong oras kadalasang pinapatay ang TV?"
A: "Pag balita?"

15. Q: "Ano ang tawag mo sa anak ng taong grasa?"
A: "Baby oil?"

16. Q: "Saan karaniwang ginagawa ang mga sweets na ginagamit sa halu-halo?"
A: "Sweetserland?"

17. Q: "Sinong higanteng G ang tinalo ni David?"
A: "Godzilla?"

18. Q: "Ano ang mas malaki, itlog ng ibon o sanggol ng tao?"
A: "Itlog ng tao!"

19. Q: "Anong S ang tawag sa duktor nag nago-opera?"
A: "Sadista?"

20. Q: "Blank is the best policy...."
A: "Ice tea?"

22. Q: "Saan binaril si Jose Rizal?"
A: "Sa likod!"

23. Q: "Fill in the blanks - Beauty is in the eye of the ____."
A: "Tiger?"

24. Q: "Ano ang kinakain ng monkey-eating eagle?"
A: "Saging!"

25. Q: "Kung ang suka ay vinegar, ano naman ang Inggles ng toyo?"
A: "Baliw!"

26. Q: "Anong tawag mo sa kapatid ng nanay mo?"
A: "Kamag-anak!"

27. Q: "Saan nakukuha ang sakit na AIDS?"
A: "Sa motel?"

28. Q: "Kung ang H2O ay water, ano naman ang CO2?"
A: "Cold water!"

29. Q: "Sinong cartoon character ang sumisigaw ng yabba dabba doo?"
A: "Si scooby dooby doo?"

30. Q: "Heto na si kaka, bubuka-bukaka."
A: "Operadang bakla?"

31. Q: "Ilan ang bituin sa American flag?"
A: "Madami!"

32. Q: "Ano ang tawag mo sa taong isa lang ang mata?"
A: "Abnormal!"

True Confessions of Gonzo: What Makes Me More Happy, Less Angry

EVERY day since I came down on April Fool’s Day, I've observed my mother, who is 83 years old, do her morning rituals—praying the rosary, opening her pile of novena booklets, lighting votive candles before the image of the blessed virgin.

Despite these exercises in piety, some of my siblings, daughters and I agree that this matriarch who has dominated our lives is increasingly growing narrow-minded, judgmental, almost unforgiving of hurts that go back more than 50 years ago, strutting about like she’s everyone’s moral superior, a superwoman who can do no wrong.

I admit that I see bits of myself in Mom's pronounced traits, but since I learned that being happy is a conscious decision, I’ve also realized that my redemption lies in heading in Mommy’s opposite direction.

Nowadays, I want to be the type of middle-aged woman who has and keeps friends with people who are my children’s age or even younger. My best friend for the summer of 2010 is my niece Bianca who is turning eight this week.

We write side by side in our respective diaries when she sleeps over in Pasig. When we paint side by side, we talk about anything under the sun.

A few weeks ago, I taught her some basic wet on wet watercolor techniques that enabled her to paint clumps of bamboo on the left side of her sheet of watercolor paper. Then I let her be, telling her to think of any image she may want to put on the right side.

After slightly dipping her brush confidently into a small plastic jar of water, she mixed black and white pigments to produce gray. All this time I was painting my own thing. Strange, but I can’t remember what my own subject was because I was looking from the corner of my eye what it was Bianca was up to.

Before I knew it, the right side of her paper was full of tiny elephants, a herd of them headed in the direction of the bamboo grove. Curious, I asked if there was a stampede about to happen. (By the way, Bianca’s term of endearment for me is Tita Elephant.)

Her answer was so logical it floored me: “They’re hungry. They’re going to eat some bamboo leaves.”

In the noontime of my life, I’ve decided to find snippets of joy in incidents like this.

No longer is there a great need to be independent by holding down a full-time job or to maintain the veneer of a solid family with father, mother and children under a roof. Whatever projects come that I can have spare time for, I accept.

I’ve also decided that I don’t have to put up with the things that the grouch I’ve lived with on and off for over 25 years says and does. If he hits the 10 over 10 mark on the grumpy old man scale, I can always hop into a bus from Baguio to any point of Luzon now that I’m done with school and earning some pin money again. When he and I have cooled down, we can again do things we enjoy doing together like eating out at the newest "in" place in town or reading our own books in bed, sharing one adjustable lamp light between us. Who's to say that ain't rock-solid love?

Beyond that, I’ve kept my sight on just three things that make me happy, grateful and less agitated these days in the sweltering lowlands: writing, painting and being with Bianca.

Photo of bright kid and her pink elephant taken by ANNA LEAH SARABIA in July 2009

The A(m)patuan Ladies Go Shopping at Greenbelt 5

This spoof was performed at the opening of Babeth Lolarga's exhibition of paintings “BLING BLINGS & LUCKY ME,” at Taumbayan bar, 40 T. Gener and K-1 streets, Kamuning, Quezon City, on April 9 before an audience of journalists, writers, visual artists, singers, friends and family members. The exhibition of paintings is still on view until May 8. The venue's business hours are from 6 p.m. to 2 a.m.

Cast in order of appearance:

1. Frances Makil Ignacio as Princess Leia

2. Kate Sabate as Princess Minor Key

3. Joel Saracho as Himself

VOICEOVER: This is a fictitious skit inspired by a Philippine Daily Inquirer item in the Lifestyle section published in December 2009. In that item, the salesladies of a luxury brand boutique in Greenbelt, Makati City, voiced their sadness, saying how
much they missed the women of the A(m)patuan clan. These women are their favorite customers. They are world-class shopaholics known for buying high-end clothes and accessories in bulk and paying for these in cash. Last Christmas season, the women were sorely missed because they were lying low. Public opinion was strongly against the clan and its men who were considered the criminals behind the massacre of more than 50 people, most of whom were journalists. Today, nearly five months since
the massacre, public outrage seems to be waning as most people are keener on the outcome of the 2010 Philippine Presidential race. This morning, however, two members of the A(m)patuan clan slipped out of Maguindanao province by chopper to exercise retail relief.

Two princesses (wearing crowns but regular designer clothes, not Muslim royal wear) descend from the second floor of Taumbayan. Joel rushes to meet them.

JOEL (approaches ladies, extends hand to help them with bags): Gandang hapon po. May I help you?

PRINCESS LEIA (raises eyebrows and chin, straightens back to full height after handing bags over to Joel, then speaks with a thick Visayan accent): Anu ba tong ples na itish? Bar, bestro, galiri, ol op
d abob? Ba’t waray air-con? Enet pa. Kagagaleng lang namin ng sester ko sa Mekati. We jes want a cool drenk bago kami umuwi sa condo. I don’t want to leb our things sa chopper. Maherap na ang panahon. Dameng break-ins. Bagung bele ko pa naman etong Luis Vetoon bag.

PRINCESS MINOR KEY (imitates stance of Leia as she also hands shopping bags to Joel): Iced tea for me, please. Are you the head waiter?

JOEL (smilingly leads princesses to center table for two, puts bags gently down on the floor, signals to waiter to send iced tea
to the 2 customers): Chong, 2 glasses iced tea para sa kanila. Ako po si Joel Saracho (bows, then turns to audience as though awaiting applause). Isa ako sa mga partner dito sa Taumbayan. Yes, it’s a bar, bistro at alternative art space.

PRINCESS LEIA and PRINCESS MINOR KEY (bristling upon hearing the word Taumbayan and echoing one another, swiveling heads and eyeing the audience suspiciously): Taumbayan? Taumbayan ka mo? (turning to one
another, clasping their hands across the table in fear) Taumbayan?

PRINCESS MINOR KEY (in chiding, I-told-you-so manner): Sis, we don’t have our close-in security with us. You told me to leave them behind coz nobody but nobody recognizes us.

JOEL (rubs the back of Princess Minor Key in gesture of assurance): This is a safe place po. Our politician and millionaire friends leave their armed guards at home. Again, I’m Joel. And you are?

PRINCESS MINOR KEY (squirms when Joel touches her back, shrugs him off and speaks in English with an American twang): Who we are? We are the princesses A(m)patuan of A(m)patuan town, Maguindanao. That there is my
older sister, her royal highness Princess Leia. I am Princess Minor Key. We just flew in today in our Papa Doc’s choppper to seewhat’s new at Greenbelt 5. We couldn’t shop till we drop last Christmas, you know. That killing field—all media-manufactured stories. This summer is our chance to shop now that the palms of the
men in our family are being greased because of the coming elections. Our order for iced tea is taking a teeny weenie bit too long, Joel (crosses legs and looks at Joel snootily from head to foot).

PRINCESS LEIA (widens eyes at younger sister, kicks Minor Key’s leg under the table and hisses aloud): Ano ka ba, Inday Meenor? Mano bang tumahimik ka? Pahamak ka talaga!

JOEL (his turn to raise both eyebrows at the sisters, puffs his chest, frowns, seethes, fumes, picks up a beer bottle by its neck from the neighboring table, clasps and unclasps it as though holding back his temper): Kayo pala ang A(m)patuan sistahs, ha? Enjoy the evening if you can get out of this place alive! (turns his back at the two women and entertains other guests)

PRINCESSES LEIA and MINOR KEY hurriedly pick up their shopping bags. Leia trips & contents of bag spill out. Joel turns to look at the minor commotion. Picks up a shoe, examines it, turns it over and over, rubs the leather, smells the sole.

JOEL (in a voice triumphant): Tiangge ng Greenhills!!! Pa Louis Vuitton, Louis Vuitton pa kayo! (signals able-bodied waiter) Waiter, i-escort itong mga pretensiyosang prinsesita sa labas.

Waiter escorts the two women.

WAITER (in a solicitous tone): Saan ho uwi niyo? Greenhills? Alabang?
Valle Verde?

PRINCESSES LEIA (recovering her airs): Quezon City, excuse me.

WAITER: Ahh. Sa La Vista? New Manila? O Ayala Heights po?

PRINCESSES LEIA and MINOR KEY (in unison again): SA TATALON!!! AY YAWA! (stomping off to Exit, mustering as much
dignity as they can)

THE END

A version of this skit with the actors' ad libs & improvisations can be viewed at this link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-c7bpWWajeM
See more
www.youtube.com

Thank you, SINAG DE LEON, for documenting the performance.

'A Grace'

Daniel Boone had a hit song in the 1970s: "Beautiful Sunday." In a strange kind of way this Sunday is. Because it is full of grace that is still undefinable.


Sharing Donald Hall's poem "A Grace" from Bill Moyers's The Language of Life:

A Grace

God, I know nothing, my sense is all nonsense,
And fear of You begins intelligence:
Does it end there? For sexual love, for food,
For books and birch trees I claim gratitude,
But when I grieve over the unripe dead
My grief festers, corrupted into dread,
And I know nothing. Give us our daily bread.



In the same book, Hall tells Moyers quoting mystic Meister Eckhart, that "when we pray for something, we pray to nothing. When we pray for nothing, we pray to something. When we ask for things from God, we are doing less than nothing."


Happy Sunday, all, while I figure out the latest conundrum in my life.


Photo of Salcedo Park on a Saturday evening by SINAG DE LEON

‘Oh, My Señorita, Sweet Sweet Lady’: The Story Behind the Painting

Sometime in February this year, my youngest of four sisters, Gigi Lolarga (poker nut to me, Eugenia Celerina D. Lolarga in her birth certificate), asked me, her ate, what my birthday gift was for her. Normally, I’d pull something out of my thin wallet. But that day, all I could promise her was a portrait of Bruno Lolarga, her “son.”

The image of the playful pug Brunski stayed in my mind like an old refrain, so to speak. When friends like Brenda V. Fajardo, my former professor in modern art in the mid-1970s (gosh, this really dates me) fell seriously ill followed by Rey Rimando, math prof at UP Baguio and my children’s math tutor who made them less fearful of numbers (his aneurysm struck on Valentine week) and Noel Cuizon (a nephew of Brenda’s, by the way), there was no way my earnings as a freelance writer would contribute anything of significance to the cost of their operations, recuperation, follow-up with medical specialists, rehabilitation, etc.

By this time I was keeping mind, breaking heart and sometimes unsteady hands busy by painting in preparation for a solo show at Taumbayan bar-bistro.

I texted my exhibit proposal to Joel Saracho, former colleague from Manila Standard days and manager-partner of the bar, who was on a video shoot in Bukidnon, but he managed to reply, “That’s so Taumbayan,” meaning he approved of my contrasting blings with canned goods and instant noodles.

Summer of last year, he invited me to exhibit there when it was just a few months old. Since then, the place has been a night owl’s hub for the theater and television people who keep odd (a.k.a. vampire ) hours. I felt right at home that first time there with Gou de Jesus and Ernie Enriquez.

Someone was having a birthday then—Augie Rivera, if my blinking memory is working right. We were complete strangers to one another but were quickly introduced. Like any hospitable birthday celebrator, he asked me to partake of his feast. Un-shy when faced with a rectangular slab of Estrel’s caramel cake, I cut a generous slice complete with rosebud-shaped icing. Talk of feel at home. I always like to use William Saroyan’s title for his book “My Kind of Crazy, Wonderful People” in situations like this.

To shorten this narration, one day in March this year I posted a picture of Bruno on my Facebook profile and stated that I intended to paint a portrait of him paired with a snooty señorita. The images of him with a lady were up there, still vague. Actor Frances Makil Ignacio, Nitz to those who know her, volunteered in her comment to be the model. I asked permission if I could scour her photos posted in her profile to guide me.

I zeroed in on Frances in a black and white polka dotted dress, which turned out to be her costume for her role as Lucy Brown in “Threepenny Opera” by Bertolt Brecht and Kurt Weill. Well, as Ka Universe (Gilda Cordero Fernando) likes to say, the universe has a way of stitching things together. Even Gou, freelance writer-editor by day, occasional jazz singer by night, gave the bright suggestion of singing our friends to health. An art auction with songs to up the bids--brilliant, Gou!

Meanwhile, I couldn’t think in my regular format of 16” x 20” anymore. This tribute to Bruno, his master Gigi, Frances, etc. had to be BIG to be worth anything if it were to be auctioned off to benefit the sick. So I thought big: four feet by four feet canvas on board. My private art teacher Norman Chow had to repeat the request to ensure he was reading his SMS right. Yes, I texted back, four feet by four feet and make it an order for two canvases.

“Stormy Norman,” our private nickname for him, had his carpenter in Baguio execute the specs up to the stretching and priming of canvases. With paint and brushes ready and the managing of minor assorted household crises in Baguio and Pasig not bothering me any longer, I applied myself the way my other teacher, Jerry Araos, told me how at the greenhouse of Oscar and Toottee Pacis in Happy Homes.

Norman guided me all the way, recruiting his son Chino, a computer science major who paints on the side, to help. Chino was a study in coolness while Norman and I mismatched colors, hues and tints, he scratching his bald head, me scratching what was left of my head of hair. On learning that Chino was the third pair of hands in the endeavor, Toottee, who was then in Manila attending a valedictorian grandchild’s graduation, texted: “I hope Chino knows what he’s in for.”

We will see what we’re all in for when “Oh, My Señorita, Sweet Sweet Lady” goes up for auction at an opening bid of P8,000 early this evening, April 9, at Taumbayan, 40 T. Gener and K-1 streets, Kamuning, Quezon City.

Belated happy birthday, baby sis Gi. Sorry the painting of Bruno will find a new owner. Just the same, the real deal will always be with us.

Photo of re-tooled, revised "Oh, My Señorita, Sweet Sweet Lady" by LIWA ARAOS, exhibit curator