Quick, quick post. I went to the carnival today. The city fiesta is in two days, so naturally the perya is
here. I have not been to one of these things since I was a child, so it
was an experience of memories rushing in as I walked around the
suddenly familiar metal contraptions designed to twirl and lift and spin
excited passengers into the air. I did no twirling nor spinning, since I
have this fear of large, clunky metal things that could fall apart at a
moment's notice. My companions and I had a good time snapping pictures,
though. We wanted to stay until they lit all the lights, but sadly,
there were very few colored lights, most were the regular fluorescent
lights wrapped in colored paper.
It was pretty interesting, however, seeing the people there prepare the carnival for another night. It seems like everyone is part of a big carnival family, and I was struck by how many little children were running around, very much comfortable, as if the carnival was their home. I cannot imagine living life as a carnie, traveling from one place to another, never knowing a place where you can stay and return and set yourself down for a considerable amount of time. I should be thankful that my life is not so mobile, but then again, perhaps they love living life as they travel from one city to another and would not prefer anything else.
I spent two days of pure R&R in my hometown, where the Globe signal strength is always down to a measly 2 bars and where everyone goes to bed when the clock strikes 9. It also gave me the time to do an afternoon shoot that I've always wanted to do. I wanted to capture the light as it struck the ground and hit the trees in Pansil, where my Lola is buried. I was primarily inspired by Alexandra Sophie's shots (more about her here), but I also wanted to go for a darker, brooding mood after the most recent play shoot collaboration with Kat, where we got to talking about dark, moody photos and how they seemed to invoke something deep and mysterious that you cannot figure out just by one look at the photo.
My model is my niece, very pretty Dianna, who was so game I almost forgot this was her first time posing for someone else (like most teenagers, Dianna likes to take pictures and she takes them well. She is also a great model, a great delight for me since it made the whole thing so much easier.) The shoot was made extra fun since my aunts tagged along, with Lolo and Dionley, Dianna's little sister, not far behind. For some reason the whole thing turned into a delightful little group effort, since Tita Libeth helped me make the wreaths for D's hair, and Tita Verlisa, handy with make-up, added a bit of color to her eyes. Her mom also tagged along for moral support.
portraits, portraits, portraits, portraits, portraits, portraits,portraits, portraits, portraits
I turned a year older more than a month ago. There was no noise, nothing really spectacular to mark that day. The day before that, I sat on the sofa, I held my camera in my hands, feeling the familiar contours, the rough texture of the rubber grip that peels off from time to time if not for the strategically-placed green elastic band I used to tie my hair with. I missed taking pictures. I was turning a year older and there were so few pictures to show for it, nothing really to remember the past year by. The major milestones were recorded, I hope, but not the daily things, the little stuff, the ones I used to enjoy taking, not because I wanted to share them, but just because they showed what I saw, with my eyes, in that particular moment. Taking pictures is a snap (pardon the pun) but the easier it gets, the harder it is to do it regularly because I fall into the trap of thinking I can do it anytime I want. This is regretful, since not being able to snap away makes it harder to remember.
Sometimes, not being able to remember the colors, the textures, even the smells of the day, somehow diminishes the memory, especially if you are trying to remember the day that just finished. It is disturbing, the fast turning of one day to the next as if you are not given a moment to catch your breath. I used to have so many moments to just sit and take as many deep and satisfied breaths as I can. Now, moments like that are becoming increasingly rare. I spent the remaining hours of my last day as a 28-year-old taking photos of what I saw on the street. Photos of people, my feet, flowers, our vegetable garden by the road. It was reassuring, feeling the transition from getting to know the controls again, to falling into that comfortable familiarity of just snapping away.
The photos are few, but I promised myself I would post this so I can have something to remember that last day by. At least when I look back, the last day of being 28 won't be just a blur of colors, but rather pictures that link to other memories that I failed to capture during that day.
 |
| coffee and a sugary snack |
 |
| my birthday falls on exam week, so thoughts of celebration are always put on the backburner, at least temporarily |
 |
| Bammy on my bed |
 |
| Going out in the afternoon. I almost forgot that this was one rainy day |
 |
| the Bell Tower |
 |
| trying to get sharp shots with the Zuiko OM is always hard, but I love how un-digital the pictures look (at least to me) |
Pepito is my sister's puppy, a Maltese-Shih Tzu mix. He is a bundle of energy, love, drool, and tiny doggie teeth and there's nothing I like to do than bury my face in his warm fuzzy tummy. His first few days with us were marked by frantic visits to the vet (the first at 2 in the morning) since he had digestive problems and we thought it was Parvo. Now, he's all over the house, biting ankles and darting from one corner to another like a black, furry floor mop. And for some reason, he likes to do his business in my brother's room. Go figure.
Nikki, a fried of mine had her birthday at Island Leisure Boutique Hotel and Spa sometime in September. I have heard of the hotel and have read about it on Facebook but never really knew what the inside looked, so I was pretty curious about going. The hotel is charming, cute and homey, which is no surprise since it used to be a house before it was gutted and transformed into what it is now. There are small nooks with fountains and benches for you to choose from. I found the decor interesting, probably a mix of different Asian themes. The upstairs rooms still smelled of pain and woodwork, but they already had a fully functioning spa and Jacuzzi. I also loved the lighting-- subdued and soft, which was not surprising since it doubles as a spa after all.
I like the boutique concept-- the items used to decorate the hotel is for sale, and you can see how much by flipping over the price tags attached to each one. I don't know if Dumaguete has other boutique hotels like this. This is a pretty nice concept and it would be nice to see other hotels like this pop up in the city.
The food left a lot to be desired, however. I wouldn't go into the details since I forgot what we ordered. One of the friends ordered beef, which came hard and rubbery. She practically wrestled the beef into submission since she was hungry and needed to go back to work after dinner. My mashed potatoes came cold and bland, very much unlike other preparations of the same dish that I have tried in restaurants in the city. The only thing in the menu we liked was the calamares. The exterior was crunchy and crisp, while the squid meat was soft.
Perhaps it was just our luck that we went there when the place was still very new, and the staff didn't have the system down yet, so there were problems with the service as well. ( For one, they brought the silverware per dish, which required a lot of going back and forth, pretty tiring to watch even if you didn't do the actual going back and forth yourself.)
We did have fun taking pictures though. I kind of want to go back again, to sample the spa this time. Perhaps we can make a date out of it. Hopefully by then we'll see improvements in the food and service as well.
