.... my right index cuticle is indigo. 

My signature of civic responsibilty shimmers iridiscent under the fluorescent lights. It bled and trickled down my nail's right furrow, and made a curve halfway through the edge of my nail. It's pretty. 

Cosmetic thoughts aside, This means that I have committed the names of contending would-be officials to very politically important paper in rich black ink, indelible as the stain on my finger. These names are now lodged among many others, identical, oppositional, or otherwise, locked, sealed and watched until counting day. 

It's either I've helped put the right people in office who really do give a damn about this country, or I've done a great disservice to the nation, and that the next irrational mass protest, senate-house conflagration, and political circus counts me as an enemy of the people.

This is my commitment. I committed this. Alea jacta est.

Six hours later and 20 minutes later, I wonder if I had done the right thing, put the right people to the test of ballot. Voting according to your conscience can be a tricky thing, specialy when your conscience desn't have enough stock knowledge against "right candidate" and "wrong candidate". Basing your decisions on "he said, she said"  either brands you as a namby-pamby twit or an opportunist. You could say you were "collecting data from different reliable resources to come to an analyzed decision" provided that (1) You really are, and (2) your sources are, as well. 

Either way, it's your decision. And as with every other decision you make, you take responsibility for it. 

I second 's lament. There aren't enough decent senators for us Filipinos to pick from for this elections. Then again, I've picked up my boyfriend's unruly, vonnegutesque perspective on the occassion. 

It's a pity there aren't enough independents to fill up the list, either. Eventually, we need to throw in a handful of bastards and radicals (not necessarily in the same vein) with the savants, the greenhorns and the rare breed of politicians who simply mean well. I've learned that a story needs characters of every sort to make it interesting. Eventually, we'll all have someone to root for in the end. 

(Coaching Tip: Sex at Its Best)



And yes, Tabulas world. I'm back.

Hello, everyone.

It's been quite a while since I've updated this blog. Let's just say life got in the way.

A lot of things have happened since the end of summer. Work happened. Home happened. friendships lost and found, new doors, new chapters, new lessons met me along the way, and well, it's quite a feat trying to shake a dozen hands extended to you all at the same time.

This may be a brief, but it's enough.

Right now, Life has tossed me something to big to chew on. Think of Archiebald McLeish's JB. for now, it feels like Mr. Zuss and Nickles are watching my next move, something like "Let's see for how long this girl'll hold."

It almost feels like a game, really. I's tricky; it's scary, that's true, but I'll hold. If you smile in the face of a big bad snarling wolf, at least you'll still go smiling.

Here's trying the patience of Job on for size.

We'll see how all this plays out. We'll see. Like I always say.

Have a good one, everyone.

After slipping off and boxing the brass slippers, stepping out of a cream blouse and white skirt and silk white girdle-shorts, letting my hair loose, and wiping off my make-up, I plop on the bed staring into empty space all tired, and try to think about life.

My mind's a blank, a contrast fathoms apart from how profound and romantic I was this morning, ruminating and philosophizing how things might have been different if I'd have sown more good karma along the way, or if I had eventually planted enough smiles or help ir encouragement to soothe a stranger's pain or even change a life, and ultimately how this day could be the fulcrum of the most (if not the rest) of my adult life here on.

Last night's reheated pizza dinner coupled with hot cranberry tea and ice tea can work strange miracles.

There are so many things still left unsaid that need saying. There are fading ties to be strengthened, wisdom unremembered to pull out from the thin air it was lost in, experiences to be honored, wounds to heal, gratutude to be rendered rightly, and above all, love and light to be multiplied and shared.

For this momment, specific joys of the day are elusive to an overwhelmed mind. Pardon this old sod, the day was just too much of a good thing tight now.

None the less, allow me to share the joys of universal lights as men who joined their brightness with mine today. Kindness begets kindness and love begets love, as the saying goes.

To the man I love, words fail me. The love, perhaps, will best say it all.

For tonight, Francis Quina, I salute you. Alea jacta est. This is your life. God does not play dice with the universe, though it may seem so, but I salute you for the semblance of double sixes to fall on your path. I wish you the Nine of Cups, the nine of Pentacles, and the Ten of Pentacles to come.

To everyone who comes across this humble post, I send you my warmest wishes and thoughts, and send you off with a portion of love to keep you happy, keep you going. We so often too easily forget how incredible and irrepresible the light in each person is. You too are that one incredible, irrepresible light, bright enough to light up the universe forever.

Good night, and good luck.

God bless you, whoever you are.

I used to collect words
Like I collect butterflies.

They lived
Behind a glass window,
Their phonemes
Folded
In suspended flight,
Their fragile meanings
Tapping silently against the glass.

There always were butterflies
Lovelier,
Rarer,
Silent in sentences and stanzas,
A sigh
On a page.

You found me
A lost little girl
Between pages.
“No more butterflies”, I wept.
“There are no more butterflies in the world.”

You smashed my glass windows
And set my words
Fluttering into faraway whispers.

I have no need for glass windows anymore.
Just your hands
Where my words alight
Every now and then.

--10-12-04

It seems the theme for this weeks play progress is "The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away."

I am surprised I can still somehow say "Blessed be the name of the Lord."

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Wednesday:

I'm glad the Reading went really well yesterday. I finally got to meet our third Mystery Actor, Felix, and well, he's a dead ringer for the, um, other actor-friend who was willing to help me out, but conveniently forgot to tell me he already had too much on his plate. (What's a nice way of telling someone "you're fired"?)I have a feeling Ate RH, Moki, and Felix will get along and work rather well together. For me, that's something big. They chuckled and freaked out at the right parts of the script, so I guess that meant it was more or less a good job.

We scheduled for a rehearsal on Friday after lunch (from 1:00 to 2:30pm) at the Galleria 3 of FC's 2nd floor. I wanted to conviince myself I'd manage to come up with good directorial ideas for my play in time,(after all, hadn't I done that with Mistero Buffo?), but I couldn't help but have this sinking feeling. How would I direct and block my actors on a tentative shaped theater space if I didn't know what the final theater space would be like?

It wasn't helping, the way Ma'am Edna May said "Naku, you have only three weeks? It's not going to be enough... I mean, it's difficult enough for fledgling directors to direct a One-act play in one-and-a-half month, but three weeks... eh, we'll see..." At least we had now scheduled the thesis defense on February 8, 1:00-3:00pm at FC 3080, the Department's Conferrence Room. I was to provide three ringbound copies of my thesis (sans gargantuan appendices) for the three panelists. Basically, I needed to prepare a PowerPoint presentation

Kuya Lem, Manager of the Teatro Hermogenes Yllagan (the experimental theater space that was Perpetual Help and Divine Grace for most Theater students in need to finish production requirements)told me not to rely anymore on on the THY: it was fully booked for the rest of the two months, both by the productions of two professors and a handful of other Theater students.

James willingly accompanied me to inquire about the Aldaba Hall (the Little Theater behind the UP Theater) and the Abelardo Hall (The performance hall in the College of Music) despite him nursing very bad thesis news. (I'm not sure if I should disclose it here, since it is after all his prerogative should he want to talk about it or not. At least, not in this entry. One bit of woe at a time.) The Abelardo Hall was booked for my planned play date, as well as my 2nd option playdate. Had it not been, I still wouldn't be able to take the place: the rental for the place alone is P4,000 on a student's discount for four hours for just one day's use, sans airconditioning, sans lights and sounds equipment rentals, sans personel, technicians, and ushers. Considering my cast would need to get used to the space and that would probably take about a week or less, I'm sure I wouldn't be able to shell out that kind of money. As for the Abelardo Hall, It was offered at P5,000 for six hours, whether used in one go or distributed over a number of days. the above price was also exclusive to the space use alone. If I would eventually decide (and for sure I would have to) to rent their lights, their aircon, and their sound system, it would have ended up a lot more expensive than Abelardo's fees.

I had no space to mount my play in.

It was strange, really. i think it was more of my desperation that directed my feet toward the glass doors of EDSA Shrine on my way home. Oh yeah, I had forgotten; it was the weekly day of devotion to Our Lady of Perpetual Help. The EDSA SHrine was thick with the sea of heads in black and brown and red and salt-and-pepper, and the mass was just about to end. Soon as the final blessing was laid on the congregation, the only people who did leave were the priest and a few lay ministers. Tiny red- or blue-plastic-covered booklets appeared from handbags and wallets and pockets, And the "Mary Immaculate" began like a wave out of nowhere above the crowd.

I was eventually pushed into a pew, and for the next fifteen minutes, I was stuck. No, I didn't complain. All I could really do then was sing when the crowd sang, kneel when the crowd knelt, and silently cry into my folded knuckles beneath the low murmur of promises and antiphons that filled the church.

I later rode home feeling a little less desperate, but still nonetheless vague and empty. Something I had texted James on the way home: Never had the phrase "With God, all things are possible" put me to the test this much.

I stepped through the gatesof my home, readying and steadying myself to greet toe flood of work waiting in between the pages of my thesis and play notes. I retired at 3:00am, cutting play lines and changing, re-positioning directions, steeling myself with Imogen Heap's Hide and Seek.

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Thursday:
There is a big possibility that my cast and I will be able to rehearse AND perform in the THY after all.

Kuya Lem had very kindly helped me find possible times for me to use the THY witohut compromising classes and the other student production reservations.

There is also a big possiblity that my cast and I may have to stage the piece a few days earlier than intended.

On one hand, this means we may stage this in the way we inintally intended it to be (Arena or Theater-In-The-Round style) instead of adapting according to another production's set-up (I.E. Proscenium style). On the other hand, this will also mean concentrated rehearsals. We will have to make the most of the few days were thge cast and I are given more hours to work on our piece than usual. I just hope everyone's scheds will allow them to be available for those few precious days.

(Dear , I know you can read this entry, and everything I've written here is true. I will need to discuss these points with you and Ate RH tomorrow; I just wish there was a way I could get this news to Felix as well. I know this is all rather alarming, but it's the best we have on hand right now. i really do wish we could have done it later than sooner; I've honestly never mounted a play in this short span of time, but I've got to try. I mean, I have you, Ate RH, and Felix, and that is more than enough to be thankful for. All I can really do now is to try to be worth your Yes to me. )

I shouldn't let my emotions run wild. I'm the director, right? I mean, the production, the cast counts on the director, looks to the director. Or at least, Ma'am Jose told us her Directing students that the production team needs to see the director is strong, that she knows where their team's going. Should be damn sure of what she's doing, and what that could spell for the production.

I just wish I... we can make this production happen, and make it worth the time, effort, thought, blood, sweat, and the measures of tears put into this.

I just hope it's going to be worth all these risks.

There's still so much work to be done.

As sent by Lem, posted by K, and spread here.

For all ye who love life and learning, lend an ear here.



(Get a Life, by Jose Dalisay, jr.)

Ilang awit pa ba ang aawitin, o giliw ko?
Ilang ulit pa ba ang uulitin, o giliw ko?
tatlong oras na akong nagpapacute sa iyo
di mo man lang napapansin ang bagong t-shirt ko

Ilang isaw pa ba ang kakain, o giliw ko?
Ilang tanzan pa ba ang iipunin, o giliw ko?
gagawin ko ang lahat pati ang thesis mo
wag mo lang ipagkait ang hinahanap ko

Sagutin mo lang ako, aking sinta'y walang humpay, o ligaya
aasahang iibigin ka, sa tanghali, sa gabi at umaga
Wag ka sanang magtanong at magduda
dahil ang puso ko'y walang pangamba
na tayo'y mabubuhay na tahimika't buong ligaya

Ilang ahit pa ba ang aahitin, o giliw ko?
Ilang hirit pa ba ang hihiritin, o giliw ko?
di naman ako mangyakis tulad nang iba
pinapangako ko sa iyo na igagalang ka

Sagutin mo lang ako, aking sinta'y walang humpay, o ligaya
aasahang iibigin ka, sa tanghali, sa gabi at umaga
Wag ka sanang magtanong at magduda
dahil ang puso ko'y walang pangamba
na tayo'y mabubuhay na tahimika't buong ligaya

Aasahang iibigin ka, sa tanghali, sa gabi at umaga
Wag ka sanang magtanong at magduda
dahil ang puso ko'y walang pangamba
na tayo'y mabubuhay na tahimika't buong...

Ligaya!

Aaaaah, aaaaah, aaaah!

--- Eraserheads

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I love you, baby.