For the tortured...

This day beat the juices out of me and upon arriving at the studio today in Makati, the annoying newly bought mac computer's internet is acting up again. It's so weird that spotify works but the internet browsers couldn't even squeeze out any information from the world wide web.
I hate MACs.

It's started working again when our transient artist tinkered with it.
And to push the bumming moment to its deepest despairing level, I channeled Maria Mena through Spotify.

Listening to her tortured soul that encourages masochism and unrequited love can be quite relaxing though I don't suggest this if you are feeling emotional lest the emotion linger longer than you wanted.

I'm just glad her latest album is starting to sound less dedicated to wall-flowers and beginning to tap her thug soul.

Different Strokes at The Ayala Museum Artist Space

This is something that I didn't expect at all. At such a very short notice, I am included in a group exhibit to be hold at the Ayala Museum, Artist Space 2nd Floor.
Mga Iba't Ibang Birada or Different Strokes, happening on the 14th of September and opening reception starts at 6PM.
There are 14 more artists included in the exhibit coming from different places, backgrounds, and of course, style or stoke. My works are the sole 3D objects because all of the artists are painters. It's like the Pulp Fiction Exhibit again, where almost everyone were illustrators.

For this exhibit, I have immediately come up with three 3d objects that I have been planning to create for a long time. I haven't had a proper sleep in four days because I was trying to finish up on the art works. Not to mention I am coming up with this wretched feeling of impending sickness, that feeling as if you've been hit by a bus and shortness of breath that would eventually progress into cold and cough.
Last time I had this kind of sickness, my friend took me to Makati Med and she witnessed how my nose got vacuumed, not a very pretty sight.

One book to be a part of a work

The least I can do tonight is sleep early and work hard for the remaining days.

Quarter Collective

Hopefully I'll be feeling well by Friday. See you at the opening of the exhibit!

A Postcard to NC

A year ago, I sold the poetry books I have bound myself and though I didn’t bother to sell as much as I can, a few handfuls were enough.

A woman bought one of my books and I thought to myself, that people still buy poetry, perhaps, there’s still hope. The woman showed my book to Neeli Cherkovski, who happened to be visiting the Philippines. Neeli Cherkovski is the author of at least a dozen books, a professor in a state university, and also the best friend of Charles Bukowski.

After a few weeks, the woman contacted me. Saying Neeli Cherkovski wants to meet me. I didn’t know who he was, but the woman said Neeli was impressed with my poetries. I was at work, about 2 hours away where they want to meet. Immediately at lunch break, I hopped on the MRT from Quezon ave to Ayala and met Neeli Cherkovski in Serendra. I wasn’t the least nervous if the office would penalize me, although the office did get tighter after that and I was on probation.

I met him, a man of white hair, glasses, and quirky mannerisms. I enjoyed having coffee with him and talking to him about poetry and writing. After that, he invited me to dinner a week from that day in his partner’s place in Serendra.

We exchanged books, he gave me two books while I bound a special book for him with new compilations of my poetry. He left the country a few days afterwards.

I promised to write to him and here is the first one.

It doesn't matter whether I sold a few books, it was enough that I was able to meet one of the most prolific poets in underground America through my poetry. Since then, I've only compiled books without having the same content. Each one having different poetry and stories. I don't sell much and it's perfectly fine.

"Dear Neeli,

The scorching sun is fiercer and the rain grows harsher, see you again when you return. Currently working in an Art Space run by artists who are too indolent to read books.
I write, always.

It is the unshaking ground I stand on in a place where people coming from different lands tries hard to be insane."

Veronica

PS: Happy Labor Day!