Saturday, January 24, 2009

a statement of commitment - by the sisters in the hood

we, the sisters in the hood,
who live and love the good life,
hear a cry
and feel the urgency in these times
to unite, to live and move as women of hope.



charged by the spirit born in us
and strengthened by our life together in community,
we step into our future with a renewed sense of mission,
as women called to venture for what we stand for,
we choose to nurture relationships of hope:
with one another
between us
with the community
with the earth
we open ourselves to the presence of the sacred
in each of these relationships.
as sisters in the hood,
united we claim our responsibility
and stand with all who hope.

these, our words of commitment,
words that are passionate,
words that are challenging.

these words speak of collaboration,
of hope
and the greater of which is hope.
naïve hope of a better tomorrow?
no.
our hope is that which transforms.
our hope is not bound by some futile cosmic plan
that surrenders to a view that “what will be will be”
and there is nothing we can do about it.
our hope is that which trusts in him
and believes that each one of us can make a difference.
our hope can become reality.

our words speak of our gathering together,
and our common passion.



and we will make our hopes realities
one step at a time
doing what others did not dare do,
and doing it in style.

Monday, January 19, 2009

sublime


the soaring of the spirit into joy!


surprised by joy!


i cannot hold thee close enough!

and it was still monday morning!

Sunday, January 18, 2009

dreams, memories

my memories ride the brush into my bowl of paint
and are dipped in alizarin crimson and pthallo green.
my emotions emerge,
rotund, corpulent and juicy,
like a well-stewed fruit,
swollen and redolent,
and carrying the fragrance of artistry.
the brush strokes may be ample, broad
or teeny and flimsy.



the canvas is ready,
and like a body waiting for a lover's caress,
it seems to quiver, shake and shiver
and arch to meet the brush.

i am telling my stories
that float through my memory
like the organza sheers at my windows.
blue sky and white curtains
that catch the golden sun of my mornings
on shiny threads
and send it crackling through my dark empty room like sparks.

the day ahead is long and cold
and for the moment I lie under the sheets that are still warm
despite my body's nightlong ache for an embrace.



the curtains sail into the room on a breeze
and the blue of the sky bleeds into the depth of brown of my room
and the curtains fly and the sheets turn cold
and the icy winds of the day soak into the pores of my skin
and impregnates me with desire
for a moment of bliss, ecstasy and utter pleasure.

i don't write of my dreams, I have bad dreams.
i lie back in bed and and watch the curtains billow
white into the blue world.

underwater i am light,
in the sky I can flutter,
in this cocoon of my bed, i am a chrysalis.

and my canvass rests. . .
at least for now.

Saturday, January 17, 2009

frail, rusty and frayed

it is the unusual weather and this strong, cold, siberian winds.
i don’t usually point fingers, am responsible enough for what i do or not do, what i feel or not feel,
but today,
i want to indulge and point fingers,
and not feel responsible for this sadness and loneliness that i feel,
it is the unusual weather
and this strong, cold, siberian winds.

i am used to not even checking if i got enough blankets,
or scarves, or woolen socks and mittens,
but the unusual weather
and this strong, cold, siberian winds
made me dig in my closet
and look for things i’d rather just keep there – stored.

just like what i would rather do with these emotions gone astray,
and you guessed right:
it is the unusual weather
and this strong, cold siberian winds.

i know that life is an accretion of
decisions, actions, steps,
moments,
ripples, words,
looks, glances, murmurs,
caresses, kisses, strokes of hair,
giggles, silent pauses over the phone line,
a signature on a page,
the rip of a check,
a thrust in coitus,
the turn of the screw.

but right this moment,
i can't dissect it all, don’t want to.
i just know i am sad and lonely,
and it must be this unusual weather
and this strong, cold, siberian winds. . .

and i let my tears be puddles. . .
pools. . .
i just want to.

i can’t always hold it all together. . .
for a day, for a moment,
let me be frail. . .

rusty. . .

frayed. . .

battered. . . but intact.

Monday, January 12, 2009

jose's afterthoughts

". . .from an office girl,
to croupier, to vegetable grower. . .
wow!
what an uncommon,
original itinerary!
am impressed,
bernadette de la huerta!
i noticed
your modulated voice,
and your melodious laughter!
never been an opera singer?
and i love the wordings of your ad
on your business card:
plants,
flowers,
fruits,
vegetables,
treasures,
pleasures. . .
encantado to have met you,
bernadette,
and am looking forward
to smell the perfume
of tomatoes
in your green house. . ."

". . .hasta la vista,
senorita!
and for tonight,
sweet dreams of bumper crops. . ."

Zamboanga del Norte

zamboanga del norte, today,
is famous for dakak beach,
the province's leading natural attraction.


the entrance view at the Dakak Beach Resort


a refeshing welcome drink


who's afraid of the sun?
not me. . .

the very popular dakak beach is most known
for its beautifully shaped cove
and powdery white sand,
and as a diving mecca in mindanao.




perfect blue waters,
tremendous dive sites with a wealth of coral reefs,









and a splendid sunset horizon distinguish this tropical eden.














sis & i


entertainment @ dakak beach resort


while you immerse yourself in a sumptuous dinner


kilawin


another fish dish

good times cafe - dipolog city




paintings on the walls of the cafe








mosaic tiles on the path in the lush garden


the artist's nook

and his art









the holy rosary cathedral - dipolog city





dapitan - where the doctor, painter, poet, hero - rizal, was exiled



zamboanga del norte. . .
a destination i will always want to revisit.

Friday, January 9, 2009

Bohol

for 'sun, sea and beach lovers',


tagbilaran city, bohol


panglao beach club


while waiting for our breakfast




chocolate hills

one of the most spectacular landscapes in the Philippines
the Chocolate Hills.
1,268 hills


tarsier - smallest monkey in the world (the rest, have evolved)

another reason to visit the main island Bohol,
the tropical rainforests in the higher parts of the island.
and the tarsier,
the average size of this little creature
is between 90 to 160 mm (3.5 to 6.25 inches),
the weight is between 70 to 165 grams.


a roll on the beach - sand, sun, sea


leaning tower of loboc? nah! must be the beer


blood comact (?)


loboc


sta. monica


sta. monica convent