Fix you

It was the performance that first made me understood dance really as an art form, and I didn't expect seeing it from a TV contest. But there it is. I haven't seen much else actually so I wouldn't be able to critique refined techniques and judge according to corresponding standards. Alam ko lang tumalab sakin yung piece.

Snapshots of awesome parts of the routine:

Premise

The two pictures above and below are continuous. Beautiful arm movements. This has a symmetry I cannot put my finger on. When she emerged from the hoop of his arms with that expression and momentum, I knew right at that moment the choreography was going to special.

The climax of the music begins. Fast, fully-extended movements and the dancers pull themselves into the other half of the stage. The usage of space was subtle to me yet so amazing. It was able to delineate a different ground/span of time where the dancers then entered into a synchronized duet, suggesting a (temporary) resonance between the two characters.

What flight. Shit. Let's just call this move: So fucking amazing please teach me to dance too.

With her back turned on him, she launched herself in the air relying on him to ran forward at just the exact moment to catch her. Caught in his shoulders, the arc of her body suggested heavy burden. Now that image is already perfect, but imagine the actual requirements (e.g. trust) for the dancers to able to perform that. Ugh. Crazy people.

Ugh again, because it transitions to this immediately. This actually happened fast like a snapshot, not unlike a lapse.

The throws then become sick integral to the narrative. Look at her.

Then, the tone quiets down together with the music. Notice that the two are back again on this part of the stage, facing in that particular direction. The expansiveness we've previously witnessed deflates and the irrevocable creeps in. On the ground, with his forehead he nudged the back of her legs forward (probably, I was tearing up then for the last 30 seconds). That gesture is utterly priceless.

And then shet lang, tanginang power ending: he embraced her and slipped his feet beneath hers, he began to guide her steps slowly as they walked as one. Combined with the expression of the characters and the two performers' commitment to that final emotion (they kept on going after the music almost to the edge of the platform), its sheer impact made me reel back and blink stupidly after some time. Yung tipong parang bawal ka muna makaramdam ng kahit ano, ng iba pa for a short period.

I can't embed the video here so just check this link. May better HD versions if you search for urselves. The choreography (billed 'contemporary' btw) set to Coldplay's Fix you is by Travis Wall, performed by Robert Roldan and Allison Holker. Robert, please marry me. KThnksBye. Haha.

At dahil dito, may natutunan akong term: Negative space. In this context, from what I understand, negative space refers to when little to no motion is presented for longer-than-normal period of time. It's when the mood, facial expression or posture are highlighted, I guess. Awesum.

If you've watched Talk to Her (Hable con ella) ni Pedro Almadovar.. ang galing lang nung paggamit niya nung opening na dance na "Café Müller" by Pina Bausch. Pero ibang level na yun, di ko na yata ma-aannotate yun.

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The Multiple-choice Guide to Practical Hooking-up

Pick your favorite pen or pencil. Play quirky song for dysfunctional people. Dance, dance, dance.


1.
a. Introduce yourself but never give away your real full name, maybe just parts of it to ease conscience.
b. Change/add letters to your name, from Mark to Marc, John to Johann. Do not insist on Alexandra if you’re an Alexander. This is not advisable.
c. Only coolly inquire for his name at the end of it all. Then add him straight away on Facebook using your real life account.

2.
a. Maintain proper distance while exercising politeness and the obligatory show of interest during conversations.
b. There will be moments of awkward silence. Do not be bothered if he feels bored, as long as things appear to lead to your getting inside his pants.
c. There will be moments of awkward silence. You want to keep him interested in you, he seems smart, not to mention cute. Rack your brains desperately for a good topic. Failure should lead to regret, success wins you his smile which you receive like a trophy.

3.
a. Avoid sleepovers. Grab the first opportunity to go. If you can leave even with the rubber on, kindly head to the nearest exit.
b. Let him lean on your chest as you watch a rom-com or a chick flick. Before this, he heats leftover adobo in the microwave, your feet dangle from the edge of his bed unknowingly swinging in the widest of arcs.
c. Maybe, even hold his hand as both of you doze off. Be endeared when he snores.

4.
a. After the deed, avoid communication for at least 3 days. Otherwise, you will appear clingy.
b. Mask your replies with pretensions you are only after being fuck buddies.
c. Ask him an hour later if you’ve left behind something very valuable at his place (e.g. mint candies).

5.
a. You have a short-term memory and you always put it to good use. This is called being rational.
b. Google is your friend. Type in his name and tirelessly go through the results. Repeat 3 times a day. This is called being obsessed.
c. Meeting a person of his kind, you quickly find out, is like being thrown a lucky bone. Will you call yourself naive or fortunate?

6.
a. Hey, you want trade movies sometime?
b. Hey, you want trade movies sometime? :-P
c. Hey, you want trade movies sometime? hehe

7.
a. Manage expectations. Having next to nothing is optimal for peace of mind.
b. Debate on the idea of dating. Suddenly, it leaves a bad taste in your mouth, out of fear, out of his presumed judgment, coming to you in waves.
c. It will either be due to the circumstances or in spite of. In this summer heat, is there a mirage that (con)fuses both?


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How to say "I love you" accdng to Ayn Rand

"Because love is an expression of self-esteem..."

For some weird reason nagkaroon naman pala ng matinong content ang Playboy at one time. (wushu sasabihin ko kaya to kung Playgirl instead? lol) Nagpublish sila ng interview with the philosopher/novelist Ayn Rand. Medyo nagresonate kasi sakin yung mga sinabi niya kahit wala pa kong nabasang works niya previously.


Excerpt:

PLAYBOY: Where, would you say, should romantic love fit into the life of a rational person whose single driving passion is work?

RAND: It is his greatest reward. The only man capable of experiencing a profound romantic love is the man driven by passion for his work -- because love is an expression of self-esteem, of the deepest values in a man's or a woman's character. One falls in love with the person who shares these values. If a man has no clearly defined values, and no moral character, he is not able to appreciate another person. In this respect, I would like to quote from The Fountainhead, in which the hero utters a line that has often been quoted by readers: "To say 'I love you' one must know first how to say the 'I.'"

PLAYBOY: You hold that one's own happiness is the highest end, and that self-sacrifice is immoral. Does this apply to love as well as work?

RAND: To love more than to anything else. When you are in love, it means that the person you love is of great personal, selfish importance to you and to your life. If you were selfless, it would have to mean that you derive no personal pleasure or happiness from the company and the existence of the person you love, and that you are motivated only by self-sacrificial pity for that person's need of you. I don't have to point out to you that no one would be flattered by, nor would accept, a concept of that kind. Love is not self-sacrifice, but the most profound assertion of your own needs and values. It is for your own happiness that you need the person you love, and that is the greatest compliment, the greatest tribute you can pay to that person.


***

Bam! Ayn Rand, gusto ko for the most part yung sinabi mo eh, tagos eh, kaso kung susundin ko to the letter, parang magiging matagal pa bago ako magkaroon ng love life, haha. Ampf, walang namang ganyanan.

Share ko lang: Nung lumabas yung playboy dito sa Pinas, bumili ako actually ng copy. Lesbian, yikes!

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPod touch]

Making Peace

Recently I realized that my coming out had another dimension to it: it made me more at peace with my body. Dati kasi there's always this thought at the back of my mind that my body would rat out my "secret." Not that I'm pretending. You know, mahirap lang talaga kapag inuunahan ka ng ibang tao, eh sa sarili mo hindi pa naman malinaw. Yun siguro yung in-the-closet feeling for me, mahirap, kasi chances are, it might trigger your defense mechanism just for the sake of proving others wrong. Unnecessarily. When that's the last thing you need to be able to accept whatever it is you need to accept.

Digression: Counting out my family and a handful of people remaining, I think I can say I'm almost done coming out. From hereon I'll strive to be plainly open about it to the people I meet, with proper judgment of course. Being gay is just a yes-or-no question after all. Being you, on the other hand, isn't that where the real hard work is?

So I'm thankful for having outgrown that kind of worrying. I feel freer and lighter (Modess?!?) sort of. Although sedentary pa rin ang lifestyle ko for the most part, I'm trying out activities I really enjoy. Then, you realize na teka may katawan nga pala ako noh, sumasakit yan at napapagod, maraming hindi kayang gawin. Yet, it grounds you at the same time, a lesson I'm learning to appreciate more and more.

I think, those thoughts I've been mulling over are what motivated me to fish this out of my subconscious, hehe.


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Errata


Sure I wanted the body
exacted toll for its infirmities

I could list down to make up
the whole, the sum even

of missing parts, this is merism:
I say breath, limbs, and heart,

those beat against the head
-ing to the farthest I've been at sea,

again I say breath, limbs, and heart
for that much has been, much

lost from you or relieved
where does being whole stop

but at infinite. So a body begins and begins
its natural closing on its tiny self

taking in hook, line and sinker,
these beyond the body allowed in

safe passage, free to take course within.
So I counted down to eight planets,

measured the age of light, made this shore
an ancient crater of the earth. All along

the porous body still nothing finally
to be faulted for, too difficult there

small fissures were crusting
all over its exterior, deposits

I began calling spirit, essence, soul—
small currents coursing a geography:

stretch of mountains to trenches,
channels of veins, nose hair and cartilage,

skin, pigments, watercolor, words, fence,
wind, watermilll, song, all of the same finite

element I pick up, I break, I could mend
only incompletely, and I do those again

all over to this I possess, center, flat,
maybe on turtles all the way down.



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Mancrush: Jesse Tyler Ferguson

Dahil nanonood ang couple dito sa bahay namin ng the Aviator, at narinig ko ang Moonglow sa background, so magpapakacheesy muna ko


Probably, it's something I imbibed from Hollywood movies, but I just get that picture and pleasurable "nostalgic feeling" of myself lounging in a dimly-lit bar smoking cigarettes when I hear this kind of jazz. Baka sa previous life ko pinanganak ako during that era?

When I was in my angsty teenage period, I turned to jazz because I wanted to reign-in all the chaos that my emotions stirred. Kind of my tranquilizer, so I guess, you might call me proper junkie then. Twisted right? While I still indulge in my romanticisms over this genre, fortunately, I am differently motivated now. Props for some personal growth. Though I've still got a long way before I can properly say I enjoy the more intellectual likes of Miles Davis, Thelonius Monk, etc, (maybe it's because I've not been properly schooled in music and so unfamiliar with the heady stuff?). But heck, I can listen all day to big-bands and swing, and someday I'll learn to play standards on trumpet or sax. I confess I too have this all-time fantasy of dancing that someone (my "man", of course) to oldies like Cheek to cheek, or It's been a Long Long Time. Call it: life imitating fiction, yeah, best put it that way so at least it sounds less hilarious. Come on, you cannot not melt when you hear the lines, "So kiss me once, then kiss me twice, then kiss me once again...." Sigh. Then imagine your Man. Isa pa uli, Sigh.

So, meet my man (I seem to be owning up to this hopeless-romantic type well no?)

Oops, that's a not really flattering pic, still cute pa rin naman. Kulit ng antics ng Modern Family but I have to say I have this big crush on this guy (sorry boys, may boyfriend na sya), one more reason why I enjoy the show. It's definitely got something to do with that immaculate beard. For the time being, Jesse holds that ideal image of my type of guy you would want to come home to. Regardless of all the Hideo Muraokas, Daniel Matsunagas, Bernardo Velascos and Marlon Teixeiras. Kahit pa lahat sila may chiseled abs at naka-underwear lang. (Ako na ang mahilig sa brazilian models) Keso, I know!

This guy I could imagine snuggling with in bed. We would be asking each other how the day went for us, and then maybe, not getting to hear the other answer because one of us probably dozed off already. He'll be someone in reading glasses while poring over a newspaper in the morning, and later forgets his keys. I could go on and on. Haha. Me and my domestic fantasies.

Strangers

Kahapon may nakasabay ako sa train! haha, may small crush kasi ako sa kanya nung una ko palang syang nakita sa capoeira trainings, may hawig sya kay Kyuhyun ng super junior (di ako fan ng super junior, pero cool nung dance sa sorry, sorry), promise! Kyuhyun pero mixed-jap na ang ganda ang biceps at magaling gumalaw. You know, that man-boy vibey eye-candy. Pero awkward na sya eh, nahuli nya yata akong tumitingin madalas tapos nung minsan sa isang party, sobrang inasar pa ko sa kanya with matching tulak, kamusta naman yun. Kaso straight sya at kilala pa nya yung college friends ko (di pa nila alam about my um, orientation haha).

Anyway, we both pretended not having noticed each other kahit we were almost face-to-face nung pagpasok ko sa train, kunwari na lang akong busy-busy thumbing through my playlist, at sya naman nakita ko turned on the opposite direction. Hindi naman ako affected (ok, konti lang hehe, sayang di ko nakita yung cute nyang smile).

Blah-blah, bat ko ba shinare yun, wala lang. May binabasa akong poetry book on my home that time (na hindi ko pa rin tapos kahit ididiscuss na ng reading group ko mamaya, lol) tapos BAM! basa ko tong tula na to, nabasa ko na to dati eh, pero nung oras lang na yun ako tinamaan. Ako na ang ang emotero sa loob ng tren. Inspired daw kasi ako that time, char. Basta. Sobrang hands-down talaga ako sa mga poems that speak not just on the level of words BUT also on the level of image.

Galing sa Hybrids of Plants and of Ghosts ni Jorie Graham:



Strangers

Indeed the tulips
change tense
too quickly.
They open and fly off.
And, holding absolutes
at bay, the buds

tear through the fruit trees,
steeples into sky.
Faith is where we are
less filled
with ourselves, and are
expected nowhere—

though it's better to hurry.
The starlings keep trying
to thread the eyes
of steeples.
It's hard, you can't
cross over. The skin

of the pear tree is terse
like the pear, and the acorn
knows finally
the road not taken
in the oak.
We have no mind

in a world without objects.
The vigor of our way
is separateness,
the infinite
finding itself strange
among the many. Dusk,

when objects lose their way, you
throw a small
red ball at me
and I return it.
The miracle is this:
the perfect arc

of red we interrupt
over and over
until it is too dark
to see, reaches beyond us
to complete
only itself.


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About fortuities and a vandalism

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09194998649


I was here.

I saw you passed by outside and I followed. You saw me enter the cofeeshop, more than twice. I took my time buying a cup because I was stealing glances. I took a nearby seat and counted enough change for the fare home. I was relieved. I noticed you had a calculator and I was stupid to mumble something like I had to know the value of Pi, up to eleven digits after the decimal. But now you know I’m actually smarter than that.

You rang me up the next day. You liked me more and more. Shyly, I admitted feeling the same. We gave each other presents. You hated flowers, moreover, you wouldn’t give me one. I hated your bad days, and told you to pick your fights. You preferred the train because you avoid overreaching for lazy passengers’ fares. And I knew they’re called pushcarts for good reason, thank you, but still I liked to pull on them. But we counted the months. I sang you Your Song. And then you actually sang it better. We had plans. We gave each other morning and parting kisses.

Later, I got so down, when it took longer than expected to find another job, I waxed the floor and bought new rugs. You slipped on one, I was terrified you’ve broken more than a wrist. You did. You laughed it off and said you look more rugged with the cast. I agreed, not just because I was sorry. I drew a crack and from it emerge nuns, priests and trains, and I helped you in for baths, in dressing up for work. I enjoyed it, you didn't have to thank me much. We hoped for marriage. Someday, maybe.

Then came a difficult fight. I gave you a bruise, not before long did it turn from crimson to ugly violet. You were drunk and kicked down chairs.

It got better somehow with a long talk and lots of compromise. We missed each other, you approached me in a manner I knew too well. I pushed in early, you hurt a lot, we had to stop. I did it again and you yelled “Easy, Tiger!” In French. Well in any case, you wouldn’t have called me that if you hadn’t wanted it rough, I knew that too.

Anyway, by the time you're reading this, if you ever happen to read this, hopefully we each still pay half of the month’s rent. And that you never forget again your credit card in case I got too excited buying groceries pulling on carts at the supermarket . Forgive me if sometimes you have to mop the bathroom so often. I’m wasteful, I flood the floor and keep forgetting to close the tap. Don’t worry. I knew all along you burned my favorite dress shirt with the iron. And it’s OK, as long as I get to borrow yours. I secretly envy your good taste.

In the event that one of us had declared it over, I hope we didn’t fight too much on who gets to take care of Marcello. He’s not our kid (weren’t we contemplating on adoption), but our jack russell. You wouldn’t have agreed to naming our child Marcello anyway.

Either way, you must be absent-mindedly scratching your eyebrow now, I’m right, ain’t I? No, don't stop, it's cute. With a few potholes here and there, some uphills, a major quake or two (I hope not literally but who knows), I can’t say for sure if we’d still be standing. But whether I’m waiting for you outside (dinner's on me tomorrow, in that case) or not :-( , I should have told you earlier on when something’s not working pretty well...

It’s the bad plumbing here, you see, you should have taken the other stall.

Tee-hee.


For 09279877854


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