Faraway, so close*

Even though you took a long time to post a reply, I still thought about showing you some of the scenes from my travels -- disparate images that might (or might not) make sense to you when strung together. A quiet peek at what I saw and my impressions.

Now that I'm back, moving forward with our life together isn't contingent on this online dialogue. It never has been. Offline, our real dialogue continues, which includes washing my share of the dishes and trying your latest culinary experiment.

And just as the small text in the last photo reads: "Objects in mirror are closer than they appear."

Jo
011713

*Borrowing the title of a Wim Wenders flick

afar

I saw a magazine with that title at Booksale last week, and it struck me, being as it was our situation just a few months ago.

You know, from afar I was reminding you that it was your turn to reply here on our blog. Then weeks passed before you finally got to reply.

Then from afar, I found myself being reminded by you. Of the fact that it was my turn to reply. Weeks passed too, but I never got the chance to reply.

And then you came back. And your presence, as well as your reminder of my turn to post, were no longer from afar. With an uncomfortable distance no longer between us, I hope you'll forgive me as I relished on the former, and setting aside still the latter.

I'm glad you are back. It is so great to have someone else wash the dishes. Because of that, I can now post a reply.

Jordan
011113
5:30pm

*Store table wrapped with a Derek Ramsay movie tarpaulin along Mindanao Avenue.

Out on a limb

Traveling, even to familiar places, is never easy for me. I'm swept into a web of memories, stories, heightened senses, and the complexities of personal relationships, seen and experienced up close. To retain my perspective, it helps at times to be around nature: to breathe in the fresh air and let my eyes and limbs do the walking. I took this photo last weekend and maybe it can give you a sense of that moment when I looked up and saw this above me. How odd that it is a black and white image when I usually prefer and have a better feel for color.

Jo
111612

goodbye's eve

I for one realized that after all this time, I have yet to take photos at the airport whenever I drop you off. Even when I wait outside till you give me the go-signal that all is okay at customs and security. And that my wife is clear to leave me for a spell or two.

So I did, and found this kid, a reflection of what I was going through. Much more obvious though, as he is still far from being an adult.

Jordan
110612

*Kid moping amidst the bustle of the airport.

All Hallows' Eve

I missed spending All Saints' Day with you and documenting the traditional observances in Manila. Catching, instead, a bit of All Hallows' Eve, here are some sights leading up to that spooky night.

Jo
110412

rooted

I think a person's roots which are constantly looked for have much more meaning than what a person is born with.

Recently, while travelling, I saw this Philippine flag hanging on a wall at the Boni MRT station. I was surprised with myself. Instead of feeling nationalism, I felt it was out of place, without purpose, abandoned even as Araw ng Kalayaan--the most probable reason why the flag was hung there--was over three months ago.

The flag for me was like a representation, of the likes of Santa Claus, Cupid, or the Easter Bunny. Excited to see them during times when they were expected, but unwelcomed guests when not.

Jordan
092612

A nomad with roots

Your photos remind me of how Taguig is your hometown. It shows in the way you observe and photograph life while riding jeepneys, trains, and buses. Your eyes are trained from years of long commutes to and from Taguig.

Unlike you, I can't actually name my hometown. Where I was born is different from where I spent my early childhood. Which is different from where I went to grade school or went to high school or went to college. Which is different from where I studied and worked later on. It's different still from where we live now.

Lacking a specific hometown used to bother me before, but I've come to realize that my family, friends, and experiences are what made each of these places my hometown, at least for a little while. I don't feel unrooted; I just feel that I have roots in various places. Certainly, I still care about these places, wanting to return to them again and know them better. Being a type of nomad has probably influenced how I see and react to the world. I pick up quickly on people marginalizing those different from themselves and treating others poorly. I also have little patience for narrow, provincial attitudes, or when small-mindedness clouds people's beliefs about religion, ethnicity, nationality, sexuality, and gender. Does this translate into my photography? Building upon my experiences, I think it's the process of making images (and learning from the images themselves) that challenges me to go beyond myself and still dig my roots deeper.

Through photography, I keep searching for that sense of being at home, of finding my hometowns, both outside of myself and within.

Jo
091112

full circle

I came to Quezon City to be with you.

It's actually a full circle thing. I was born in Quezon City, but grew up in Taguig. I studied College at Quezon City, worked at Quezon City, too. I'd also go to Quezon City to do that boyfriend thing.

And now, I live in Quezon City in a little apartment full of books with you.

I miss my travelling days from Taguig to Quezon City though. Here is a documentation of my last travel to the place where I grew up.



A dog enjoying the waters at an abandoned lot along Mindanao Avenue corner Road 20.



A Blind singer at the Quezon Avenue MRT Station.



Two girls holding hands along EDSA near Megamall.



A vine snaking along a concrete wall also along EDSA near Megamall.



A woman in a contemplative mood, oblivious of the vehicles passing by in front of her carinderia along Signal, Taguig.



A kid trying to open the door of an Alfombra store along Pateros.



Grandma, mother, and sleeping son waiting anxiously for the traffic to move along Pateros.


A kid hanging behind a jeep (sabit) while his friend tries to catch up at Pasig.



A girl comforting herself by sucking at her arm on the MRT.



A mother with her tres marias on the MRT.



A man hanging on while waiting for the door to open on the MRT.



And lastly, a Cafe Breton service crew taking a picture of some customers while I wait for you.

Jordan
090212

On my way home tonight

While riding the FX on my way home tonight, the oppressiveness of the city seeped into me, as did the weary faces of the other commuters. Faces drained from work, from family, from problems, from long hours in traffic, from our collective history. Here was a multitude of life stories, yet only the sounds of car horns and vehicles traveling along uneven roads punctuated the silence between strangers.

To get home to you in our tiny apartment, to share stories and laughs together over dinner -- this helped to wash some of that dreariness away.

Jo
083012

creature comforts

Your photo reminded me of a certain irony I saw, tucked inside a room in the UP Main Library museum. During an event where dozens of mannequins are exhibited wearing various Filipiniana dresses, a few of their lot are left alone, naked in what seems to be a video presentation room with no audience.

jordan
082112

*main libe museum mannequins at a video presentation room, turned storage.

Cold Comfort

Quite often when I take pictures, I am moved by what I see and by the people who I meet. I keep thinking about the stories, about the environment, about the implications, and about what I can possibly do. Now and then, I wish I could tune it all out and switch off my thoughts and emotions, and I have been able to do that at times. Yet, I've also experienced having to put a camera to my face and take pictures just to hide my tears. But that's who I am and that's why some of my photos, even the street photography, are important to me in a way that's not always easily explained or quantified, regardless of what others might think of them.

Jo
082012

*Along a flooded street in Barangay Landayan, San Pedro, Laguna

comfort

And we took comfort in those waitings. The in-between moments where there was longing, but assurances, too, that someone's correspondence will come soon, and for the meantime we must live our lives.

Nowadays, we take comfort in instantaneous things. And for those things instantaneous, there is a mascot for you to hold onto.

jordan
081412

*man holding on Jollibee's hands for comfort during the past storm with no name.

We used to wait

Now our lives are changing fast/ Hope that something pure can last*

I know that you needed time to reply. Much has happened lately, and there's much to reflect upon. There's also something to be said about resisting the instantaneous and the so-called ease of modern communication. Taking the time to think, to write, and to just be. Waiting, like we used to in the past, for the letters that we wrote to each other. Letters, not text messages, that I still remember and cherish many years later.

Jo
080612

*Lyrics by Arcade Fire

waiting

Thanks for waiting by the way. In a world where things are posted on the internet like there is no tomorrow, my (lack of) actions could be considered so yesterday.

jordan
080112

*mother and daughter waiting in the midst of an SM City North Edsa sale.

When the night is cloudy

As that same Beatles song goes:

And when the night is cloudy, there is still a light that shines on me
Shine until tomorrow, let it be...

Jo
072912

mourning has broken

It occurred to me that my last post here was when my Dad died. 40 days has passed, and Catholic custom dictates that his passing be commemorated.

Me and my Mom were talking about this, on how we should follow religious custom. But Dad wasn’t a religious man. He believed in God, but not the Catholic Church.

So I’ll just commemorate this day in my own way.

Dad will understand.

But will other people? In the words of The Beatles:

When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be…

Dad digged The Beatles. And Mary too.

jordan
072812

*virgin mary sticker at taxi window along north avenue.

Caught in a wire

Just to follow your metaphor, sometimes a kite gets caught in a wire. It gets entangled high up in the air, out of reach and hampered from flight. Still, with a bit of persistence and tugging, kids (like these ones from our neighborhood) may just be able to set it free. Even if they free the kite, however, there are many more wires throughout the city, and too few parks and fields for kite-flying. The environment is full of man-made obstacles that are built in the name of "development" which so few of us question. And that, I suppose, is just part of the challenge.

Jo
062012

strings attached

I was gonna write a very long, in-depth analogy of nationalism being a kite. Then I thought to just quote Celeste Legaspi's Saranggola ni Pepe:


Matayog ang lipad ng saranggola ni Pepe
Matayog ang pangarap ng matandang bingi


Hinuli ang ibon, pinagsuot ng pantalon
Tinali ng pisi, hindi na nagsinturon


Dumaan ang jeepney at gumuhit pa sa kalye
Mauling ang iniwang hindi na tinabi


Nay...nay...nay...nay...

jordan
061812

*downed kite at rooftop
**caged Philippine eagle
***sabit kids playing at jeep
****lola with apo waiting for the jeep to move

The Otherside

I missed covering the Independence Day commemorations this week due to a prior engagement. Still, I thought about the significance of creating, documenting, and remembering our history, as well as relating it to current events. When all's said and done, sovereignty and independence are illusions presented to us in school, by the media, and by the government through colorful spectacles and grand speeches -- illusions that don't hold up to the critical eye which questions and protests against domination, whether by other States, corporate interests, or groups based on race or religion, among others. Even on the otherside of the Pacific, powerful symbols can be interrogated by artists and scenes can take on other meanings. Nevertheless, it takes much more imagination and courage to consider what freedom really looks and feels like.

Jo
061512

*At the MOMA with David Hammons' African-American Flag and other art work on display

and then some

True, dear. We also went to the isawan along the UP Arcade with some friends.

We didn't have isaw and nor did they, but we did eat dirty ice cream, fish balls, squid balls, chicken balls, and buko juice, which also have street cred.

jordan
060712

*isawan along UP Arcade