Saturday, March 31, 2012

hope is bright today

there is bright hope today, just because:
the great big world has not stopped spinning
although some minutes ago, i wished it did.
am not done with my stuff for the morrow's!
the sky, though grey, remains firmly overhead,
i love the rains though, when they fall and wet my earth!
the mountains have not fallen into the sea,
at least not yet today, not tomorrow, not on my solo!
trees and ground and flowers are bursting with life and colour here in my heaven.  so do my works, and i thank you!
the Force moves through nature and souls like a whisper on water and he cannot be held back.
and when i hear you whisper, as your breath touches my skin, just behind my ear, all my senses listen, 
waiting for what may come. . .
sometimes, my world seems upside down, 
and things just do not make sense
and they go against all that seem normal, sane and decent.
but life shoots up straight out of the ugly  and no one can make it stop.
 ilysm and i know you know it!  ♥ ♥ ♥

Wednesday, March 28, 2012

wonderful wednesday

 my wednesday is filled with blooming trees,
budding blooms
and rain that make them healthy.
i may not be in between the city 
and the coast,
i may be off the backroads in between,
but i know love deep
and good sleep.
 my worries of today fade fast into your arms
and later, 
i have good reason to paint, 
eat cheesecake
and sip frap.
life is good!  bwahahaha!

with you it is best!  ilysm!  ♥ ♥ ♥  

Monday, March 26, 2012

wild about bidibidi's flowers

monday, 26 march 2012
philippine daily inquirer

bernadette de los santos 'bidibidi'
Georgia O’Keeffe became famous for the same subject. Flowers done in large format and closeup. Instead of flowers presented in bouquets, they were drawn almost always singly or in sparse numbers, focusing instead on their anatomical structure. But that was O’Keeffe then in America. What we have here is Bernadette de los Santos, “Bidibidi” among her friends, doing her paintings in Baao, Camarines Sur. What sets Bidibidi apart from O’Keeffe is her treatment of colors in painting her flowers from the Bicol region, both endemic and naturalized. In Bidibidi’s paintings, colors are boundless expressions of creativity. Colors are never subdued. They are permitted their vividness, their lushness. No apologies here for starkness. Deep blues can exist side by side with the brightest of yellows. Reds take a radical turn to orange against a blue background with no transitional hues. Sometimes, Bidibidi does use pastel colors, as in her “Flower” Series (2000). But she indiscriminately applies them to all the color palettes in the canvas. Pastel then no longer becomes a hue, an indication of gradation. Pastel develops its own expressive value.
In her earlier works exhibited in Gallery of Walter Lee Avery City Hall (1999) of California, we still observe a nervousness on Bidibidi’s part as an artist. There is still an apology to mark boundaries, as if to assure us that it was a conscious decision on her part, to set these contrasting and opposing colors side by side. But in her later works, as in the series “Wild About Flowers” (2003), these linear boundaries are now done away with. Deep colors are made to exist beside each other. Here, her visual style has finally blossomed.
What makes Bidibidi’s floral paintings excitingly feminist are precisely these colors, aside of course from the obvious sensual yonic references, an influence from O’Keeffe. She roots these colors to her experience of childhood in the Bicol province. Those were days recollected with a bounty of flowers being strewn, in all their chromatic glory, at the feet of the Blessed Virgin for the annual Flores de Mayo. It is to this hometown now that she chooses to go back to, to promote her love for organic farming. To this end, she has set up F.A.R.M. (Fabulously & Absolutely Rural Made) to help develop small and medium enterprises among rural women. At the same time, she opened up Café des Artes where Bicol artists could exhibit their works. There is in Bidibidi’s artistic ventures the symbiotic relationship between the arts and agriculture. Feudal and therefore patriarchal with its long hacienda history in the county, agriculture is now reclaimed in Bidibidi’s work as a site of womanhood.
Bidibidi’s vivid colors remind us of the copiousness of life offered up by the provincial soil. And yes, indeed, our flowers here in the tropics never scrimp on colors. They lavish us with a sensory overload of richness sometimes impossible to imagine. Bidibidi now sums up her journey as an artist in a one-woman inaugural exhibit at La Huerta de Rosario, Baao, Camarines Sur, on April 1. The exhibit will then be transferred to Café des Artes where the paintings will stay for a month.
The exhibit is aptly called un rêve de bohême, a bohemian dream, not just as a hark back to the ’70s but, more importantly, as a celebration of life in the tropics.

Sunday, March 25, 2012

this lovely dirt

at the farm, my feet take me to places with no destination in mind.  the air is crisp and the sky blue.  
the vegetable patches at area 5 seem like small rivers of silver, sunlight reflecting back to the clear blue skies.  
the sun just showed itself today, after wonderful days of rain.  bwahahaha! 

my students are doing some farm chores, they are supposed to finish the plots and put the mulch on them by the end of the day, and they are laughing amidst the sound of the hoes and spades hitting the ground, tilling the wet earth!  farming must be such an enjoyable work and play.
and here i am, just walking with no destination in mind.  i am just walking because i have minutes to waste (?)  before i return to work (?), if doing ten more paintings before my solo exhibit, is work!  bwahahaha!
i take the muddy way in between the basil beds, sometimes i would hear splashing, when i step on a small puddle.  
i turn right and follow the muddy path with its left over splotches of yesterday's magnificent rain 
and i can see footprints of my poultry pets into the trees, away from the busyness.  the prints are just traces gone by, just like this day.
there are days i hurry the minutes on the clock, eager for it to end, and days i pray that never end.  it is good that the Force does not answer every prayer i make!  bwahahaha!  imagine the confusion as He hears me contradict myself!  does she?  or does she not want this day?  that is what He would whisper.  bwahahaha!
these lovely dirt paths have always been my way.  i do not know any other way, at least not now.  i always take the road i want to take, disregarding the sloppy mud and twisted roots.  

following my guide is my way, and sometimes those paths are quite muddied.  they are quite well-worn from others whose foot traffic have gone down this road before me.  they who have stumbled over the roots, slipped on the mud, and who have grasped for the hand to pick them up.  you can see their work in the bridges they have built.
i have built bridges and burned them down.  i have been brave and cowardly.  i have followed even when others do not see why i chose this path, but i am building endurance and the scenery is beautiful.  

i stop and take some photos.  my cam captures beauty with an amateur hand.  you would not find any pro shots in my pics.  

you will find, however, love.  love of the this lovely dirt, of the leaves that brown, and the moss that glisten under the shade.
on this crisp, clear day, i walk hand-in-hand with you.
thank you so much for the colours! 

ilysm! ♥ ♥ ♥

Friday, March 23, 2012

49: un reve de boheme

the purpose of life, after all, is to love it!  
to taste experience to the utmost, 

to reach out eagerly and without fear,  

for newer and richer experience, of a life in colour!

life is a party! and good!

Thursday, March 22, 2012

giver, gifts. . .

sometimes i love this life too much!
i revel in the gifts,
long for what i cannot have,
grasp for what i am losing,
think real life and happiness 
are found in all the gifts 
rather than the giver.
other times, i long for heaven so badly
i think my heart might cave in.
i see this for what it is 
- a moment, an instant, a breath -
and desire weaves its way up and out 
from deeper places than i even knew existed.
and those times, the earth fog lifts
and it is as if i know fully
even as i am fully known.
but the clarity does not visit long,
and just as i try to document it, 
the stuff of life and bills come back like a curtain,
leaving me wondering how the mystery ever felt real at all.

Saturday, March 17, 2012

40. wonderful weekend

i am grateful for this weekend,
one filled with slow movement
and deep breaths.
lost in time, lost in my story,
listened long, and lingered free.
i gave myself permission to feel what i feel,
my joy, well, also my anxiety.
i let it all rise up
not wanting 
nor needing explanations.
i am grateful for this weekend,
for the freedom of being where i am right now,
for not allowing and refusing to be anything different.
and in the midst of it all,
i let my truth be my anchor.
thank you for this wonderful weekend.
i know i had lots in the past, 
and will have lots in the future,
but for this weekend, i am truly grateful.

ilysm!  ♥ ♥ ♥

photo credits:  OsacnaB

Sunday, March 11, 2012

the woman

a strong woman works out, gyms it,
to build some muscles,
keep her body in shape. . .
but a woman of strength
fosters, creates relationships
to keep her soul hearty, and hale.
a strong woman
is never afraid, terrified of anything. . .
but a woman of strength
shows courage, audacity
in the midst of her fear and dread.
  a strong woman
won't let anyone get the best of her,
make her break. . .
but a woman of strength
gives the best of herself to everyone,
till it sometimes, hurts.
a strong woman
makes mistakes, errs
and avoids the same in the future. . .
a woman of strength 
realizes life's mistakes,
can also be unexpected blessings, miracles
and capitalizes on them.
a strong woman
wears a look of confidence
a mask on her face. . .
but a woman of strength
wears elegance, grace.
a strong woman 
has faith that she is strong, tough, sturdy
enough for the journey. . .
but a woman of strength
has faith that it is in the journey
that she will become strong.
i love the woman
i see in the mirror. . .
sometimes strong,
a lot of times, of strength.