When Richard D. Haynes was Consul General in the Philippines, he, like officers of both the Consular and Political Sections, went out of his way to learn and master Tagalog. One morning his language teacher, Marcy, informed me that Mr. Haynes had chosen to read my Cubao Book Series. I was alarmed. The series, for the most part, is untranslatable, has eccentric punctuation, and cannot be taken literally. One of my stories he'd been reading, for example, was "Ang Mga Manananggal" from Cubao Pagkagat Ng Dilim. I wasn't quite sure then as to who would be shocked by my work: Marcy or Mr. Haynes. Mr Haynes, however, comprehended and translated the story into English. According to him, both he and Marcy were "unfazed by the salacious passages."
Mr. Haynes and I carried on an albeit irregular correspondence via e-mail from then on. He read all of my books. Even after he left the Philippines for another post he consistently asked Helen, his assistant, whether I had any new books, and Helen would faithfully ship them to him.
Mr. Haynes was one of the few readers who saw in my books not only psychological perception and Philippine metaphysics. He understood that I am perhaps the only Filipino writer who pays attention to structure in great detail, something I have never seen in the works of any of my colleagues and something that, perhaps, only a detached foreigner would be capable of correctly observing.
Jalan-jalan in Chinatown, Singapore, December 2, 2014
Photo by Sim Teow Li
Tuesday, March 31, 2015
Watching Red Cliff on TV5 and delighted to see that Kung Ming, the great military strategist of ancient China, is one of the lead characters. Most, if not all, Chinese costume epics are based on episodes from Romance of the Three Kingdoms. My altar of Kung Ming overlooks my computer work space as I am encoding this.
It is disheartening to realize that the creation of armies has always been a natural instinct in all societies all over the world.
It is disheartening to realize that the creation of armies has always been a natural instinct in all societies all over the world.
I always call this season "Easter" rather than "Lent", and I have done so consistently since I graduated from Maryhill School of Theology. "Easter" focuses on the Resurrection rather on the long-drawn incidents that lead up to it, and that riffraff take advantage of to showcase their personal melodramas.
Caught another episode of NCIS: New Orleans last night. I watch this series only for the New Orleans sets and props, of course. This was a poorly-written teleplay. It was talky and contrived, relied on the Oracle-in-a-wheelchair who functions as a whodunit deus-ex-machina, and was a very bad attempt at giving depth to the protagonist.
A Penitent's Blood
All the way from prep to college I spent all of my summer breaks and long holidays at our ancestral home in San Fernando, Pampanga. I was a child long before tourists flocked to Cutod in the Lenten season to gawk at the self-flaggelants on Good Friday. There were no crucifixions then.
During this time self-flaggelants trudged down the streets, their heads and faces covered with cloth and crowned with weeds, whipping themselves with thongs to which were glued bits of broken glass to induce bleeding. Once in a while they would drop face down on the sandy earth, then rise and trudge on, resuming their whipping. I watched them from the balcony of our house. Some of them were escorted by boys and men who guided them through the streets and occasionally kicked and pushed them. My aunts told me that many of the self-flaggelants were actually our neighbors.
Despite all of those years in Pampanga I actually visited Cutod only twice. The first time was with my sisters and her friends, and I was terrified at the sight of seeing all the bleeding self-flaggelants en masse; the second was to accompany my cousin Manding, who lived in Manila, who wanted a closer look at everything, and who dragged me to the front lines to observe, at close view, the self-flaggelants passing by. One of the self-flaggelants wielded his thongs near me and accidentally streaked my body with his blood. The droplets were like a skyscape of red comets on my clothes and legs. Manding thought that I was upset, but I wasn't. I said nothing then because I was nine and unable to process the incident. Much later, upon reflection, I realized that the self-flaggelant's blood on my body functioned as a kind of baptism. In that moment I was one with the self-flaggelant. I bore what he bore, I asked forgiveness for what he was asking forgiveness, I partook of the joy of enduring pain to eventually take off the face cloth and emerge a new person.
When I was in my teens I considered the possibility that that "baptism" implied that, someday, I would walk up the hills of Cutod and be a self-flaggelant too. However, I am now 64 and that has not yet happened.
During this time self-flaggelants trudged down the streets, their heads and faces covered with cloth and crowned with weeds, whipping themselves with thongs to which were glued bits of broken glass to induce bleeding. Once in a while they would drop face down on the sandy earth, then rise and trudge on, resuming their whipping. I watched them from the balcony of our house. Some of them were escorted by boys and men who guided them through the streets and occasionally kicked and pushed them. My aunts told me that many of the self-flaggelants were actually our neighbors.
Despite all of those years in Pampanga I actually visited Cutod only twice. The first time was with my sisters and her friends, and I was terrified at the sight of seeing all the bleeding self-flaggelants en masse; the second was to accompany my cousin Manding, who lived in Manila, who wanted a closer look at everything, and who dragged me to the front lines to observe, at close view, the self-flaggelants passing by. One of the self-flaggelants wielded his thongs near me and accidentally streaked my body with his blood. The droplets were like a skyscape of red comets on my clothes and legs. Manding thought that I was upset, but I wasn't. I said nothing then because I was nine and unable to process the incident. Much later, upon reflection, I realized that the self-flaggelant's blood on my body functioned as a kind of baptism. In that moment I was one with the self-flaggelant. I bore what he bore, I asked forgiveness for what he was asking forgiveness, I partook of the joy of enduring pain to eventually take off the face cloth and emerge a new person.
When I was in my teens I considered the possibility that that "baptism" implied that, someday, I would walk up the hills of Cutod and be a self-flaggelant too. However, I am now 64 and that has not yet happened.
Monday, March 30, 2015
My favorite animation network/channel is Baby. I hope that everyone has it. It is basically a non-stop, non-verbal animation fugue designed for babies to watch--to pacify them and to stimulate their vision.
Adults may watch it to:
--go into an altered state of consciousness.
--open their third eye.
--dispel anxiety.
--calm one's nerves and induce sleep.
When watching it, gaze at the screen as though staring into space, unmindful of what the images are and what is happening in the sequence.
Baby has the effect on me that Lotte Reineger's silhouetted fairy tales had in the 50s.
Adults may watch it to:
--go into an altered state of consciousness.
--open their third eye.
--dispel anxiety.
--calm one's nerves and induce sleep.
When watching it, gaze at the screen as though staring into space, unmindful of what the images are and what is happening in the sequence.
Baby has the effect on me that Lotte Reineger's silhouetted fairy tales had in the 50s.
Good night, Cubao!
Watched Garage Sale Mystery again on DIVA. Because it has nice jewelry and "antiques". Because it has a Jane Marple quality to it. Because it gives me a warm, cozy feeling.
I am always hoping it gives birth to a series a la Micky and her cursed antiques in Friday the 13th (not to be confused with Jason Voorhees' Friday the 13th.)
Watched Garage Sale Mystery again on DIVA. Because it has nice jewelry and "antiques". Because it has a Jane Marple quality to it. Because it gives me a warm, cozy feeling.
I am always hoping it gives birth to a series a la Micky and her cursed antiques in Friday the 13th (not to be confused with Jason Voorhees' Friday the 13th.)
Happy Birthday, Cherry!
Here are your birthday messages for the year:
1) Your career is but one facet of your life.
2) Do not go over and over what upsets you.
3) As children grow older, they tend to mentally detach themselves from their parents.
4) Make a list of what really make you happy.
5) The god of fire seeks recognition.
Here are your birthday messages for the year:
1) Your career is but one facet of your life.
2) Do not go over and over what upsets you.
3) As children grow older, they tend to mentally detach themselves from their parents.
4) Make a list of what really make you happy.
5) The god of fire seeks recognition.
Sunday, March 29, 2015
"Crashing"
Good day, Cubao!
Slept 12 hours last night. Quite scandalous, I know.
Events of the Day:
I must have been mentally exhausted--the whole day yesterday I was alternating between knitting and writing a screenplay. One of the highlights of the day, of course, was picking up my finished oil portrait from Rafael's house. I also met an interesting person who, I know, I may never see again.
The Dreams:
The most striking dream I have is being on an airplane that is crashing.
There were two versions.
In the first dream I am in an airplane and it crashes. I see and feel all of it, and it is an incomparable experience. I am even aware of everything that I am thinking of before, during, and after the crash. After the crash, strangely, I stand up and walk about, with the rest of the passengers. It is as though nothing terrible has happened.
In the second dream the airplane is scheduled to crash and all of us know it, but passengers, in batches, are allowed to leap off onto platforms in different countries. I am in the penultimate batch. Presumably those who remain crash along with the plane afterward.
Comments:
My first interpretation is that this was an astral journey in space and in time. Spirits are no longer on-site and are visiting their homes.
My second interpretation, which is based on never take dreams literally but metaphorically, is that I am in too much of a hurry to accomplish too many things. An airplane crashing is symbolic of a body crashing.
I think I shall try to do nothing for a change.
Slept 12 hours last night. Quite scandalous, I know.
Events of the Day:
I must have been mentally exhausted--the whole day yesterday I was alternating between knitting and writing a screenplay. One of the highlights of the day, of course, was picking up my finished oil portrait from Rafael's house. I also met an interesting person who, I know, I may never see again.
The Dreams:
The most striking dream I have is being on an airplane that is crashing.
There were two versions.
In the first dream I am in an airplane and it crashes. I see and feel all of it, and it is an incomparable experience. I am even aware of everything that I am thinking of before, during, and after the crash. After the crash, strangely, I stand up and walk about, with the rest of the passengers. It is as though nothing terrible has happened.
In the second dream the airplane is scheduled to crash and all of us know it, but passengers, in batches, are allowed to leap off onto platforms in different countries. I am in the penultimate batch. Presumably those who remain crash along with the plane afterward.
Comments:
My first interpretation is that this was an astral journey in space and in time. Spirits are no longer on-site and are visiting their homes.
My second interpretation, which is based on never take dreams literally but metaphorically, is that I am in too much of a hurry to accomplish too many things. An airplane crashing is symbolic of a body crashing.
I think I shall try to do nothing for a change.
Saturday, March 28, 2015
There is no auspicious day and time for casting a spell, as there is no auspicious day and time for prayer.
Magic and prayer are born out of genuine need.
There are people, however, who cast spells and pray merely out of boredom and not out of need. These people do not count, but they can also play their games whenever they want to.
Magic and prayer are born out of genuine need.
There are people, however, who cast spells and pray merely out of boredom and not out of need. These people do not count, but they can also play their games whenever they want to.
Memoirs of Service: Harry K. Thomas, Jr.
Shortly before Ambassador Harry K. Thomas, Jr. left the Philippines I had the privilege of having lunch with him and other guests at De La Salle University. The occasion was his presentation to senior students as part of a lecture series organized by the International Studies Department. Rene de Castro reserved a function room for our lunch. Around the table were Ambassador Thomas, the chairs of the International Studies, Political Science, and History Departments, two senior honor students, the Ambassador's Aide, and a female intern from Holy Cross University.
After dessert Ambassador Thomas did something unusual. He said that he would ask a question of each one of us on our topics of expertise or interest, and that we each had all of 15 minutes to answer his question.
When it was my turn I was expecting a question related to literature, art, or heritage conservation. Instead the ambassador asked me to explain to everyone, in 15 minutes, why I organized the Spirit Questors and what we did during our visits.
I believe that I was able to answer his question well. Everyone around the table was unable to say anything afterward. A faculty member of the History Department later approached me and asked me where he could read further on the topic I addressed.
It pays to keep no secrets, and to be all of yourself, inclusive of its varied facets, at all times.
After dessert Ambassador Thomas did something unusual. He said that he would ask a question of each one of us on our topics of expertise or interest, and that we each had all of 15 minutes to answer his question.
When it was my turn I was expecting a question related to literature, art, or heritage conservation. Instead the ambassador asked me to explain to everyone, in 15 minutes, why I organized the Spirit Questors and what we did during our visits.
I believe that I was able to answer his question well. Everyone around the table was unable to say anything afterward. A faculty member of the History Department later approached me and asked me where he could read further on the topic I addressed.
It pays to keep no secrets, and to be all of yourself, inclusive of its varied facets, at all times.
Friday, March 27, 2015
It is not true that anything you post in cyberspace goes somewhere and never gets deleted. When I was still working in the office I lost a lot of documents and photos that an entire battalion of IT experts could not retrieve.
It is true only when you forget to delete something and carelessly leave it alone.
It is true only when you forget to delete something and carelessly leave it alone.
Being a portrait artist I study how a person's face changes at different times, both subtly and unsubtly.
These are the reasons that I see behind those changes:
1. The most obvious reason, the lighting.
2. The atmosphere of the place. Meaning, one looks different in a foreign place than when he is at home.
3. How the person is feeling.
4. What the person is wearing.
5. The present company of other people and whether the person is comfortable with them or not.
5. What the person ate at least an hour before.
Indeed, we never look the same as we used to at any given time. And perhaps that is why we call every painting and photograph "a moment frozen in time."
These are the reasons that I see behind those changes:
1. The most obvious reason, the lighting.
2. The atmosphere of the place. Meaning, one looks different in a foreign place than when he is at home.
3. How the person is feeling.
4. What the person is wearing.
5. The present company of other people and whether the person is comfortable with them or not.
5. What the person ate at least an hour before.
Indeed, we never look the same as we used to at any given time. And perhaps that is why we call every painting and photograph "a moment frozen in time."
While I was in the kitchen the sun came out from behind the clouds and cast a rectangle of golden light on the stone wall outside the door. Cerefina, who stays in the rear passage because she is our guard dog, immediately noticed it and gazed at it with awe, as though reading in it many wonderful meanings.
How many rectangles of golden light do we see everyday in our lives?
How many rectangles of golden light do we see everyday in our lives?
Thursday, March 26, 2015
"The Children's Play" (Night of Thursday, March 27, 2015)
Significant Events During The Day:
I was knitting the whole day and doing nothing else in general, only too glad to be alone once again, to be able to go to bed as late as I want and wake up the following day as late as I want, without having to prepare to be with a group of participants or apprentices.
Asked Angelique which one of two antique, Kwan Yin statuettes she wants in her bedroom: a blue-enameled, shipwreck find or a porcelain, multi-color imari. She chose the latter.
Considered going to the Cubao commercial center to buy myself an electric grinder for sculpture, then decided that I should that later this week.
The Dream:
I am complacent, hanging out with a group of friends and distributing posters of a children's play I have written and will direct for production in December. When I get home, I check my desk calendar inside my room, which looks like a hotel room. I realize that, while I've decided how to block the movement of the play, I've been doing so without consideration of sets and props. I suddenly realize that I've not approached any sponsors for these--and the children's theater is huge. Perhaps a plain, white backdrop that could be lighted from behind will do, but even that will cost a lot.
The play is Ignatius of Loyola, which I'd actually written for a children's theater more than a decade ago. I look through my directory and try to call M., a stage director, to ask him whether he'd like to take on the play instead. I do know that, by this time, he is already in mid-rehearsals for his own play, since his productions are always premiered in February. I keep on dialing his number although my fingers keep on punching a wrong number, always the last number.
Next I am in the Cubao commercial center, which is as it looked like in the 60s. I am with my group of friends, among them my potential cast members. I am taking photographs for an album.
[Something transpires after this, which I cannot recall.]
And then I am at home again, which doesn't quite look like our home. I am leafing through my album. The photos are incomplete. I have missed including one, important photo.
My interpretation:
The overall gist of this dream is my being unprepared while thinking that I am prepared. It is, to me, a message from my psyche that I have been overconfident without considering what I can realistically do within a set period of time and without considering other people (my friends and my cast members) and their feelings.
I think, my psyche is telling me that being retired, having achieved being where I want to be, and desiring solitude should not encourage me to perceive myself out of the context of my home, my circle of associates, and my community.
M. is my alter-ego in this dream. Like my Self, he has become inaccessible and unavailable.
I was knitting the whole day and doing nothing else in general, only too glad to be alone once again, to be able to go to bed as late as I want and wake up the following day as late as I want, without having to prepare to be with a group of participants or apprentices.
Asked Angelique which one of two antique, Kwan Yin statuettes she wants in her bedroom: a blue-enameled, shipwreck find or a porcelain, multi-color imari. She chose the latter.
Considered going to the Cubao commercial center to buy myself an electric grinder for sculpture, then decided that I should that later this week.
The Dream:
I am complacent, hanging out with a group of friends and distributing posters of a children's play I have written and will direct for production in December. When I get home, I check my desk calendar inside my room, which looks like a hotel room. I realize that, while I've decided how to block the movement of the play, I've been doing so without consideration of sets and props. I suddenly realize that I've not approached any sponsors for these--and the children's theater is huge. Perhaps a plain, white backdrop that could be lighted from behind will do, but even that will cost a lot.
The play is Ignatius of Loyola, which I'd actually written for a children's theater more than a decade ago. I look through my directory and try to call M., a stage director, to ask him whether he'd like to take on the play instead. I do know that, by this time, he is already in mid-rehearsals for his own play, since his productions are always premiered in February. I keep on dialing his number although my fingers keep on punching a wrong number, always the last number.
Next I am in the Cubao commercial center, which is as it looked like in the 60s. I am with my group of friends, among them my potential cast members. I am taking photographs for an album.
[Something transpires after this, which I cannot recall.]
And then I am at home again, which doesn't quite look like our home. I am leafing through my album. The photos are incomplete. I have missed including one, important photo.
My interpretation:
The overall gist of this dream is my being unprepared while thinking that I am prepared. It is, to me, a message from my psyche that I have been overconfident without considering what I can realistically do within a set period of time and without considering other people (my friends and my cast members) and their feelings.
I think, my psyche is telling me that being retired, having achieved being where I want to be, and desiring solitude should not encourage me to perceive myself out of the context of my home, my circle of associates, and my community.
M. is my alter-ego in this dream. Like my Self, he has become inaccessible and unavailable.
Watched Kismet on TCM because I wanted to see something nice and exotic about the Middle East for a change. I was disappointed. While I enjoyed hearing "Stranger in Paradise" and its romantic lyrics all over again, the rest reflected a shallow knowledge of the setting and the subject matter by Wright and Forrest, the same way The King and I reflected the same of Siam/Thailand and South Pacific of the Pacific by Rodgers and Hammerstein. All three might just as well have been set in fantasy, Flash Gordon settings.
While I'm at it I might as well say what I thought of Bertolucci's The Last Emperor, which seemed to be a European's idea of what a Chinese movie should look like.
While I'm at it I might as well say what I thought of Bertolucci's The Last Emperor, which seemed to be a European's idea of what a Chinese movie should look like.
The best part of the day was finding my platero's number, and I promptly text-messaged him. He arrived at 2:30 PM this afternoon. I'm having him repair a dragon necklace and an antique, sterling silver anklet that I bought in Singapore. I'm also having him fashion a small bow for my bowman statue.
Angelique was still at her university, and so I couldn't have her solid opal cabochon, which Teow Li purchased at Perth, set in gold.
I did order three pairs of stud earrings: diamonds, rubies, and emeralds. Those are what I'll wear for the rest of my life--and bequeath them to my granddaughters, of course.
Angelique was still at her university, and so I couldn't have her solid opal cabochon, which Teow Li purchased at Perth, set in gold.
I did order three pairs of stud earrings: diamonds, rubies, and emeralds. Those are what I'll wear for the rest of my life--and bequeath them to my granddaughters, of course.
Wednesday, March 25, 2015
Good night, Cubao!
Over the years and during my travels I collected a wide range of seals (for sealing wax or stamp pads) from different countries in the West: A, M, R, P, I, C, T, Q, and figurals such as a heart, a star, a lotus blossom, Cupid, "Thank You", a hand wielding a pen, and so on--including a blank one. Their handles are made of antique, silver spoon handles, brass, wood, porcelain, and colored, blown glass.
Angelique and Aubrey are now old enough to appreciate them; they took seven each this evening.
I think, I'll give one of my Ts to Teow Li.
Over the years and during my travels I collected a wide range of seals (for sealing wax or stamp pads) from different countries in the West: A, M, R, P, I, C, T, Q, and figurals such as a heart, a star, a lotus blossom, Cupid, "Thank You", a hand wielding a pen, and so on--including a blank one. Their handles are made of antique, silver spoon handles, brass, wood, porcelain, and colored, blown glass.
Angelique and Aubrey are now old enough to appreciate them; they took seven each this evening.
I think, I'll give one of my Ts to Teow Li.
I note that my fellow retirees lose interest in their clothes and general appearance, plunging into the shabby comfort of walking around in "house clothes".
Useful tip: Don't just put on anything that's available or that conveniently came in from the laundry. Plan your clothing for the entire week, be aware of color combinations, and, when appropriate, shop for a new piece of clothing that will make you not only look good but feel good.
Be even more well-dressed than you were, when you were not yet retired!
After all, a lot of employees still are lousily dressed--why should you also be?
Useful tip: Don't just put on anything that's available or that conveniently came in from the laundry. Plan your clothing for the entire week, be aware of color combinations, and, when appropriate, shop for a new piece of clothing that will make you not only look good but feel good.
Be even more well-dressed than you were, when you were not yet retired!
After all, a lot of employees still are lousily dressed--why should you also be?
Tuesday, March 24, 2015
Monday, March 23, 2015
Had kim hock guan, which Teow Li gave me, for lunch. It was my favorite food when I was little. My aunt bought it all the time. It is available, of course, in Chinatown--the Manila Chinatown I mean, a.k.a. Lucky Chinatown. Since it is a Chinese delicacy, it is quite expensive, both in the Philippines and in Singapore.
Discovered a magpapaltik in Olongapo before I left for Singapore. A magpapaltik is a person who holds a talisman (or any object) in his hands and undergoes a brief seizure if the item is magical. He can also access information about the talisman's or object's provenance.
I usually shroud my talismans in separate handkerchiefs so that the magpapaltik cannot see them.
I usually shroud my talismans in separate handkerchiefs so that the magpapaltik cannot see them.
Sunday, March 22, 2015
Shouzan Stones
My very good Singaporean friends and I are hooked on collecting Shouzan stones, highly prized by the Chinese literati and also called longevity stones. A scholar's desk is not complete without one. They are meant to be touched and are supposed to be able to provide inspiration to a writer. Typically fed with oil, they crystallize over time. The non-crystallized pigment of the stone, on the other hand, actually moves or shifts within the stone. These stones come in different colors, although I got jump-started on red ones.
Shouzan stones are volcanic stones that are carved into figurines by master craftsmen. According to Joash, the biggest collector of these stones in Singapore, the empress dowager of the Ching Dynasty favored this stone because it felt "warm in winter and cool in summer". It was the empress's stone, as opposed to the lychee stone, which is called the concubine's stone. All imperial seals were made from Shouzan stones, but they are also carved into landscapes, human figures, animal figures, mythical beasts, flowers, fruit, and insects.
There is a variety of Shouzan stone that is more exotic than the rest, and I had the good fortune to see and touch samples from Joash's collection. These are the volcanic stones that made their way down the slopes of the mountain and became embedded in the paddies. Such stones developed a "skin" that was then carved in low-relief, or "soft intention", visible against the contrasting tone or color of the actual stone beneath.
As opposed to carvings in "soft intention", there are round stones and three-dimensional stones. You will see them in my Singapore Albums on my Google+ page.
They are, to me, the gemstones of the god of the volcano.
My three Shouzan stones: dreaming boy monk, a gift from Teow Li years ago; old man (Lao Tzu), a recent acquisition; and a peach pendant given to me by Joash.
Other stones from Singapore: Extreme Left, mythical beast from Mongolia; Extreme Right, God of Long Life in tricolor jade, also from Mongolia.
Shouzan stones are volcanic stones that are carved into figurines by master craftsmen. According to Joash, the biggest collector of these stones in Singapore, the empress dowager of the Ching Dynasty favored this stone because it felt "warm in winter and cool in summer". It was the empress's stone, as opposed to the lychee stone, which is called the concubine's stone. All imperial seals were made from Shouzan stones, but they are also carved into landscapes, human figures, animal figures, mythical beasts, flowers, fruit, and insects.
There is a variety of Shouzan stone that is more exotic than the rest, and I had the good fortune to see and touch samples from Joash's collection. These are the volcanic stones that made their way down the slopes of the mountain and became embedded in the paddies. Such stones developed a "skin" that was then carved in low-relief, or "soft intention", visible against the contrasting tone or color of the actual stone beneath.
As opposed to carvings in "soft intention", there are round stones and three-dimensional stones. You will see them in my Singapore Albums on my Google+ page.
They are, to me, the gemstones of the god of the volcano.
My three Shouzan stones: dreaming boy monk, a gift from Teow Li years ago; old man (Lao Tzu), a recent acquisition; and a peach pendant given to me by Joash.
Other stones from Singapore: Extreme Left, mythical beast from Mongolia; Extreme Right, God of Long Life in tricolor jade, also from Mongolia.
Your e-mail message:
- How important is the starting/ending rituals for practitioners? Does it affect the outcome of spells? Does is backfire? How and how bad? And why do some keep these rituals do themselves?
- What was your purpose on releasing this "Panibagong" kulam books? Is it because the old ones don’t work anymore or it's just what it's called?
- Our subject said that the abilities for this practice are not intact forever. Someday, like agimats and other relics, the powers would return to what our subject calls Inang Lupa, so does the former question relates to this?
- is your practice the same with that of our subject?
-Why do some practitioners consider witchcraft as just a medium?
"- How important is the starting/ending rituals for practitioners? Does it affect the outcome of spells? Does is backfire? How and how bad? And why do some keep these rituals do themselves?"
"- What was your purpose on releasing this "Panibagong" kulam books? Is it because the old ones don’t work anymore or it's just what it's called?"
"-Why do some practitioners consider witchcraft as just a medium?"
"Hello Mr. Perez. I am the groupmate of the student from _________ who contacted you more than a week ago about asking some questions. Thank you for your time.
Few weeks ago, we went to Pangasinan to have an interview for our topic (Witchcraft: The Good and the Bad) to be turned into a magazine. We found two known albularyos or faith healers that entertained us for our agenda. In our interview, we discovered that witchcraft or kulam is a medium, thus, anyone like them, chosen by the Lord, can perform this practice. They said this ability was given to them by God and what they call Inang Lupa. We were actually expecting something different, disappointed at first but eventually gotten the hang of the interview so we continued. We learned things that some people don’t like the existence of this Inang Lupa and many other things. So with this, we would like to be enlightened more with your help. Feel free to say something about the arts before or after answering the questions. We apologize if we offend you or already have offended you because of our ignorance and lack of research about the matter. We just based our knowledge to references that we could attain and the things said by our subjects. Some questions might be unclear to you that is why if it may occur, we could give you a copy of an audio of the interview.
Here are the questions:
- How is being an albularyo or a faith healer related to kulam or witchcraft?
- How important is the starting/ending rituals for practitioners? Does it affect the outcome of spells? Does is backfire? How and how bad? And why do some keep these rituals do themselves?
- What was your purpose on releasing this "Panibagong" kulam books? Is it because the old ones don’t work anymore or it's just what it's called?
- Our subject said that the abilities for this practice are not intact forever. Someday, like agimats and other relics, the powers would return to what our subject calls Inang Lupa, so does the former question relates to this?
- is your practice the same with that of our subject?
-Why do you need specific or branded items when performing some spells according to your books but when practitioners like our subject can just use anything he sees from the nature?
-Why do some practitioners consider witchcraft as just a medium?
My reply:
Hello ______!
Here are my answers to your questions:
"- How is being an albularyo or a faith healer related to kulam or witchcraft?"
How is a nurse related to a doctor, a dentist, and an OB-Gyne?
An albularyo is a folk healer whose main tools are herbs and oil. "Albularyo" used to be spelt "herbularyo".
Kulam is a form of prayer using props.
Witchcraft is a Western women's movement. It is a pagan religion. It does not exist in the Philippines.
"- How important is the starting/ending rituals for practitioners? Does it affect the outcome of spells? Does is backfire? How and how bad? And why do some keep these rituals do themselves?"
Beginning and ending rituals are not important to me, my magic, my writing, and my painting. It is the essence or main body of the work that is important.
"- What was your purpose on releasing this "Panibagong" kulam books? Is it because the old ones don’t work anymore or it's just what it's called?"
The point of the book was to show that magic exists in everyday things, and that people perform magic even without their knowing it. The mere act of wishing is magical in itself.
"- Our subject said that the abilities for this practice are not intact forever. Someday, like agimats and other relics, the powers would return to what our subject calls Inang Lupa, so does the former question relates to this?"
If what he means is that everyone and everything ultimately reune with God, then he is correct.
If what he means is that God gives us a gift and afterward takes it away, then he is wrong.
"- is your practice the same with that of our subject?"
No, if what you mean is:
--I am uneducated and practice an uneducated craft.
--I am poor and rely on my clients' donations.
--I have no other talents and intelligence to rely on.
--I am rural and have no postmodern sophistication.
"-Why do you need specific or branded items when performing some spells according to your books but when practitioners like our subject can just use anything he sees from the nature?"
Names or brands have a psychological effect on users.
"-Why do some practitioners consider witchcraft as just a medium?"
Why is prayer just a medium?
Why is religion just a medium?
I hope this was helpful to you.
Caught a movie and a half on the plane (the flight wasn't long enough for two full movies): Birdman, which has exquisite camerawork and is a sterling example of how non-Americans have deeper insight into Americans than Americans themselves do; and The Theory of Everything, a well-acted movie but, like all movies about geniuses, will always be held up in comparison to A Beautiful Mind.
Both movies showcased ensemble performances without apparently meaning to.
Both movies showcased ensemble performances without apparently meaning to.
Saturday, March 21, 2015
When God Was A Sea Monster
I was 19 when this happened.
A relative or a friend--I no longer recall who--asked me what I wanted from the U.S. on his or her trip. I said I wanted a dime-store sea monster; I must have seen this advertised either in a tabloid or in a comic book. Voila--whoever it was came back and I had a set of dime-store sea monsters and their housing--a two-inch-in-diameter plastic globe that had a screw-on cap and a loop; the globe could therefore be worn as a pendant or used as a key chain.
Excited with my new gift, I filled the globe with 3/4 water and poured the powder (which came in a smaller packet) into it. I hung the globe near my bedroom window and waited for the grains to germinate into--insects? The plastic globe magnified them. They were even more visible through a magnifying lens. They did look like "sea monsters": they had cute, bulbous heads and wings that were in constant motion and that allowed them to navigate through the water. I became quite attached to the biggest one.
A day or two later, I read the literature in the packet more carefully, and was shocked to learn that I had to feed the sea monsters on a regular basis. I was very much distressed. The literature specified that the creatures could not be fed any kind of food other than what they are usually fed with, and I had to order that from the States! (There was no such thing as e-commerce at the time.)
I went through an agonizing period of watching my sea monsters starving to death. I had impulses to smash the globe and flush everything down the toilet to end their slow suffering, but I did not have the heart to actually do so.
One morning, I looked inside the globe and saw that my sea monsters were already dead and motionless. I buried everything, packet and all, in my mother's garden. Strange as it may sound, I felt guilty for the longest time and, as you can see, I still recall this episode.
All this taught me that to give life to something is not enough--one must nurture that life as well.
I think of this whenever I take on a pet animal, or a friend, or meet someone who wants to have a special relationship with me.
I would rather that you remain dormant in a packet of powder rather than give you hopes and dreams that neither one of us will be able to fulfill.
We need to go beyond excitement. Besides, if I am unable to take care of that packet of powder, I am certain that someone else will be able to.
A relative or a friend--I no longer recall who--asked me what I wanted from the U.S. on his or her trip. I said I wanted a dime-store sea monster; I must have seen this advertised either in a tabloid or in a comic book. Voila--whoever it was came back and I had a set of dime-store sea monsters and their housing--a two-inch-in-diameter plastic globe that had a screw-on cap and a loop; the globe could therefore be worn as a pendant or used as a key chain.
Excited with my new gift, I filled the globe with 3/4 water and poured the powder (which came in a smaller packet) into it. I hung the globe near my bedroom window and waited for the grains to germinate into--insects? The plastic globe magnified them. They were even more visible through a magnifying lens. They did look like "sea monsters": they had cute, bulbous heads and wings that were in constant motion and that allowed them to navigate through the water. I became quite attached to the biggest one.
A day or two later, I read the literature in the packet more carefully, and was shocked to learn that I had to feed the sea monsters on a regular basis. I was very much distressed. The literature specified that the creatures could not be fed any kind of food other than what they are usually fed with, and I had to order that from the States! (There was no such thing as e-commerce at the time.)
I went through an agonizing period of watching my sea monsters starving to death. I had impulses to smash the globe and flush everything down the toilet to end their slow suffering, but I did not have the heart to actually do so.
One morning, I looked inside the globe and saw that my sea monsters were already dead and motionless. I buried everything, packet and all, in my mother's garden. Strange as it may sound, I felt guilty for the longest time and, as you can see, I still recall this episode.
All this taught me that to give life to something is not enough--one must nurture that life as well.
I think of this whenever I take on a pet animal, or a friend, or meet someone who wants to have a special relationship with me.
I would rather that you remain dormant in a packet of powder rather than give you hopes and dreams that neither one of us will be able to fulfill.
We need to go beyond excitement. Besides, if I am unable to take care of that packet of powder, I am certain that someone else will be able to.
Good afternoon, Singapore!
This morning I--with the help of Brendan, Ivan, Atiqah, and Kristabel--conducted a "Writing from The Heart" workshop for 29 children, ages 7 - 14, for the Parent-Child Committee at Changkat Primary School.
Lunch with the TheatreWorks team at a Malay hawker's center.
Watched 3:00 PM performance of Clarilyn Khoo's "Three Inches of Alive" at Siglap South Community Centre's Centre of Excellence for Performing arts.
Back at the hotel now, using their business centre.
This morning I--with the help of Brendan, Ivan, Atiqah, and Kristabel--conducted a "Writing from The Heart" workshop for 29 children, ages 7 - 14, for the Parent-Child Committee at Changkat Primary School.
Lunch with the TheatreWorks team at a Malay hawker's center.
Watched 3:00 PM performance of Clarilyn Khoo's "Three Inches of Alive" at Siglap South Community Centre's Centre of Excellence for Performing arts.
Back at the hotel now, using their business centre.
Friday, March 20, 2015
We Still Need To Make Our Own Ice
In the Philippines and in Singapore, water dispensers have faucets for "hot and cold" but really only dispense hot water. "Cold" water is never really cold.
Phenomenology
Approaching Alkaff Bridge (a.k.a Pacita Abad's bridge) this morning, I suddenly felt as though I were walking toward the art studio on Grande Island.
"Aubrey/Tina"
Slept beside the Shouzan stone carved into the figure of Lao Tzu last night.
A long dream set in our house in Cubao, but, as I was recording it, I realized that it was all about Grande Island and the people who live there.
The Dream:
The compound that we live in is some kind of adventure resort (bridge to Grande Island). In this dream, I am its co-owner. There is a store that sells all kinds of bags and hiking supplies (bridge to a store that we are planning to set up on Grande Island). I take Aubrey to the store and ask her if I should buy a white bag that comes closest to a bag I've always wanted. She says I shouldn't buy it because it is better suited to a younger man, and I agree with her.
Aubrey then tells me that she wants to tell me something important (bridge to Tina). I automatically think that it has something to do with school, and I get worried, especially when a male soccer coach approaches and tells Aubrey not to reveal things. Aubrey goes off to join other school children in a soccer field. They sit on chairs to listen to a lecture by one of their coaches. I wait patiently and make a mental note to ask Aubrey what she'd wanted to tell me. Afterward I am with Aubrey again. The male coach passes by and glares at me, but that is all he can do because I am family.
I wake up in my dream at 4:30 AM. I go back to sleep and, also in my dream, I wake up at 8:00 AM. I go to the Emission Testing Center beside the compound and note that there are workmen hanging out there. The bus/shuttle that usually takes me to the office has gone. I deliberate not going to work, but imagine Sonny Belmonte saying that, in the Philippines, you can't just miss a bus (bridge to Teow Li taking me in a bus back to the hotel), because there are so many routes to any one location.
Now I am in a tram (bridge to Grande Island's electric golf carts) driven by one of the workmen and headed for home, which is now across our street, with Angelique and Aubrey. The driver reminds me of Carlo, one of the Grande island studio apprentices. When we get down he says, "Lahat ng tumatabi sa 'kin, ang dami kong naririnig tungkol sa inyo" (bridge to psychic abilities), to which I reply, "Mag-usap tayo minsan."
Inside the house, albeit across the street from our real house, Ivy asks me to help gather Aubrey's things, which are in a drawer beside a white, plastic box under a wooden table. The table is under the archway from the laundry room to the studio lounge. I am unable to get things right. I don't see Aubrey's things; all I see are her socks inside the white, plastic box. Someone in the dream laughs at me for not getting things right. Then Aubrey comes with a little boy to help me find her things.
Next I am on Grande Island, inside the art studio, and I am very disappointed to see that the new canvases have not been hung and that the rack I ordered made has not yet been done.
Commentary:
I see this as an anxiety dream. I am probably so preoccupied with painting and sculpting on Grande Island and conducting workshops in Singapore that I may be neglecting my family and our house.
This is the dream that Lao Tzu gave me last night.
A long dream set in our house in Cubao, but, as I was recording it, I realized that it was all about Grande Island and the people who live there.
The Dream:
The compound that we live in is some kind of adventure resort (bridge to Grande Island). In this dream, I am its co-owner. There is a store that sells all kinds of bags and hiking supplies (bridge to a store that we are planning to set up on Grande Island). I take Aubrey to the store and ask her if I should buy a white bag that comes closest to a bag I've always wanted. She says I shouldn't buy it because it is better suited to a younger man, and I agree with her.
Aubrey then tells me that she wants to tell me something important (bridge to Tina). I automatically think that it has something to do with school, and I get worried, especially when a male soccer coach approaches and tells Aubrey not to reveal things. Aubrey goes off to join other school children in a soccer field. They sit on chairs to listen to a lecture by one of their coaches. I wait patiently and make a mental note to ask Aubrey what she'd wanted to tell me. Afterward I am with Aubrey again. The male coach passes by and glares at me, but that is all he can do because I am family.
I wake up in my dream at 4:30 AM. I go back to sleep and, also in my dream, I wake up at 8:00 AM. I go to the Emission Testing Center beside the compound and note that there are workmen hanging out there. The bus/shuttle that usually takes me to the office has gone. I deliberate not going to work, but imagine Sonny Belmonte saying that, in the Philippines, you can't just miss a bus (bridge to Teow Li taking me in a bus back to the hotel), because there are so many routes to any one location.
Now I am in a tram (bridge to Grande Island's electric golf carts) driven by one of the workmen and headed for home, which is now across our street, with Angelique and Aubrey. The driver reminds me of Carlo, one of the Grande island studio apprentices. When we get down he says, "Lahat ng tumatabi sa 'kin, ang dami kong naririnig tungkol sa inyo" (bridge to psychic abilities), to which I reply, "Mag-usap tayo minsan."
Inside the house, albeit across the street from our real house, Ivy asks me to help gather Aubrey's things, which are in a drawer beside a white, plastic box under a wooden table. The table is under the archway from the laundry room to the studio lounge. I am unable to get things right. I don't see Aubrey's things; all I see are her socks inside the white, plastic box. Someone in the dream laughs at me for not getting things right. Then Aubrey comes with a little boy to help me find her things.
Next I am on Grande Island, inside the art studio, and I am very disappointed to see that the new canvases have not been hung and that the rack I ordered made has not yet been done.
Commentary:
I see this as an anxiety dream. I am probably so preoccupied with painting and sculpting on Grande Island and conducting workshops in Singapore that I may be neglecting my family and our house.
This is the dream that Lao Tzu gave me last night.
Thursday, March 19, 2015
Good morning, Singapore!
Yesterday was a full day.
In the morning I conducted "Writing from The Heart" for 37 senior citizens at the Lifelong Learning Institute.
In the afternoon Teow Li picked me up. We went to my secret place in Singapore.
Then I bought Indian anklets and we visited Joash, the man with the biggest and most impressive Shouzan stone collection in Singapore. I bought one (a red Lao Tzu) and Teow Li bought one for me (a red, mythical beast).
Brendan came to the hotel room that night.
Yesterday was a full day.
In the morning I conducted "Writing from The Heart" for 37 senior citizens at the Lifelong Learning Institute.
In the afternoon Teow Li picked me up. We went to my secret place in Singapore.
Then I bought Indian anklets and we visited Joash, the man with the biggest and most impressive Shouzan stone collection in Singapore. I bought one (a red Lao Tzu) and Teow Li bought one for me (a red, mythical beast).
Brendan came to the hotel room that night.
Tuesday, March 17, 2015
Your Hangout message:
"Sir... I'm really bothered about my feelings for this guy who keeps on saying that he has good intentions to me. He is a policeman and four years older than my age. Our common friends would always say negative things about him whenever someone mentions about him courting me. But I am pushing him away from me now. I have a special feeling for him and it hurts a bit thinking that the world is against us. I'm also afraid that I might become the woman I've often feared to become. My heart and mind are now in a constant battle. I am pushing him away from me as early as now so that nothing tragic happens. I am so bothered by the people not accepting him, especially he doesn't have good looks. Thank you for the time sir and I know you're the only person who will not judge me on these matter. God Bless."
My reply:
Hello __________!
Your messages are confusing:
You are "pushing away" a man whom you don't want to push away".
You fear becoming the woman you've feared becoming.
My interpretation of this is that your infatuation with or love for this man has led to carnal stimulation and temptation.
Answer this for yourself:
Who led you to the situation--you or the man?
If it was the man, then you are right to push him away. He isn't even your "boyfriend" yet.
If it was you, then, in your heart, you have already become the woman you've feared becoming.
Know this: that all of us are already the men and women whom we fear most, but that living our lives is a matter of making the right choices.
"Sir... I'm really bothered about my feelings for this guy who keeps on saying that he has good intentions to me. He is a policeman and four years older than my age. Our common friends would always say negative things about him whenever someone mentions about him courting me. But I am pushing him away from me now. I have a special feeling for him and it hurts a bit thinking that the world is against us. I'm also afraid that I might become the woman I've often feared to become. My heart and mind are now in a constant battle. I am pushing him away from me as early as now so that nothing tragic happens. I am so bothered by the people not accepting him, especially he doesn't have good looks. Thank you for the time sir and I know you're the only person who will not judge me on these matter. God Bless."
My reply:
Hello __________!
Your messages are confusing:
You are "pushing away" a man whom you don't want to push away".
You fear becoming the woman you've feared becoming.
My interpretation of this is that your infatuation with or love for this man has led to carnal stimulation and temptation.
Answer this for yourself:
Who led you to the situation--you or the man?
If it was the man, then you are right to push him away. He isn't even your "boyfriend" yet.
If it was you, then, in your heart, you have already become the woman you've feared becoming.
Know this: that all of us are already the men and women whom we fear most, but that living our lives is a matter of making the right choices.
Monday, March 16, 2015
My activities in Singapore will be comprised of:
--"Writing from The Heart" workshop for 30 "active ageing seniors" at Lifelong Learning Institute
--"Writing from The Heart" workshop for 25 children ages 7 - 12 at Bedok South Primary School, as part of their Parent Support Group Camp
--Writing clinics for Singaporean playwrights, second batch
--Meeting with Irfan, who is directing the dramatized readings of all nine Singaporean plays that I dramaturged from the first batch
--Watch performance of Clarilyn Khoo's "Three Inches of Alive", winner of the 2014 24-hour playwriting competition, Open Category
--Go to the secret place I go to whenever I am in Singa Pura
--"Writing from The Heart" workshop for 30 "active ageing seniors" at Lifelong Learning Institute
--"Writing from The Heart" workshop for 25 children ages 7 - 12 at Bedok South Primary School, as part of their Parent Support Group Camp
--Writing clinics for Singaporean playwrights, second batch
--Meeting with Irfan, who is directing the dramatized readings of all nine Singaporean plays that I dramaturged from the first batch
--Watch performance of Clarilyn Khoo's "Three Inches of Alive", winner of the 2014 24-hour playwriting competition, Open Category
--Go to the secret place I go to whenever I am in Singa Pura
12:58 NN. Two calls from TheatreWorks Singapore and an e-mail with my air ticket came in. Now I have to hunt for a Net cafe because our printer is out.
Must call Tina to postpone my Grande Island trip; she is having me picked up tomorrow at 9:00 AM.
I feel like a burger that'd been flipped over four times in the frying pan.
Must call Tina to postpone my Grande Island trip; she is having me picked up tomorrow at 9:00 AM.
I feel like a burger that'd been flipped over four times in the frying pan.
Americans often criticize Filipinos speaking English for stressing the second, rather than the first, syllable of almost every word: mo-NAS-tery rather than MO-nastery; ce-RE-mony rather than CE-remony.
Are they aware that the Spanish, the Italians, and the French do the same thing?
I can't see them criticizing the Spanish, the Italians, and the French, who might snap back and say that THEIR languages are superior to English.
Are they aware that the Spanish, the Italians, and the French do the same thing?
I can't see them criticizing the Spanish, the Italians, and the French, who might snap back and say that THEIR languages are superior to English.
Sunday, March 15, 2015
Monday Madness
Unpacked my bags for Singapore since I hadn't heard from them in the longest time.
Then packed for Grande Island to resume my painting and sculpting.
Today, March 16, Singapore sent me an e-mail message informing me that my Manila-Singapore flight is on March 18, two days from now!
Now packing for Singapore.
Then packed for Grande Island to resume my painting and sculpting.
Today, March 16, Singapore sent me an e-mail message informing me that my Manila-Singapore flight is on March 18, two days from now!
Now packing for Singapore.
Watched Romance on the High Seas on TCM last night. I admired its 100% Art Deco design. Most of the sets and costumes were in white and variegated shades of gray-- except for the albeit studio-set "locations" in Havana, Trinidad, and Rio; the reason I suspect that they were studio sets is that they were also in variegated shades of gray and were sung and danced in, and the only way to control sound at the time was to shoot on a sound set. It is a Doris Day starrer. Yes, it was magic.
Still up and un-sleepy after that, and so I also watched Luxury Liner, one of Jane Powell's best films because in it she showed her wide range of musical talent. Young people may turn up their noses at Jane Powell today, but, the truth is, there will never be another Hollywood star like her.
Still up and un-sleepy after that, and so I also watched Luxury Liner, one of Jane Powell's best films because in it she showed her wide range of musical talent. Young people may turn up their noses at Jane Powell today, but, the truth is, there will never be another Hollywood star like her.
Good day, Cubao!
We installed the spirit house this morning. I deliberately located it behind Chito's resplendent ficus tree so that it would be hidden from view to ordinary passersby.
Even when people do see the spirit house, they all think it is a birdhouse.
The house is painted black because our ficus tree spirit is black (male, as opposed to white, female).
We installed the spirit house this morning. I deliberately located it behind Chito's resplendent ficus tree so that it would be hidden from view to ordinary passersby.
Even when people do see the spirit house, they all think it is a birdhouse.
The house is painted black because our ficus tree spirit is black (male, as opposed to white, female).
Good night, Cubao!
Still watching a typically-set-and-prop-heavy Ken Russell. No computer graphics.
I also haven't seen Glenda Jackson on the screen in a long time.
People do not see what I see, but, in retrospect, it seems that Ken Russell's career came to a halt for the following reasons:
--His productions were too expensive.
--There is, in his films, an apparent disrespect for women's bodies. His treatment of Glenda Jackson is the prime illustration of this. Whenever I watch Glenda Jackson's films I cannot see a real woman in front of me. I cannot tell, as a matter of fact, what her true gender is.
Still watching a typically-set-and-prop-heavy Ken Russell. No computer graphics.
I also haven't seen Glenda Jackson on the screen in a long time.
People do not see what I see, but, in retrospect, it seems that Ken Russell's career came to a halt for the following reasons:
--His productions were too expensive.
--There is, in his films, an apparent disrespect for women's bodies. His treatment of Glenda Jackson is the prime illustration of this. Whenever I watch Glenda Jackson's films I cannot see a real woman in front of me. I cannot tell, as a matter of fact, what her true gender is.
Saturday, March 14, 2015
Waste Management
The reason we are so poor in waste management is that our glossy magazines do not photograph the waste baskets that should be in every room, and the trash bin that exists so that all rooms look nice and clean.
Night Attack
Ian and John (they have the same name) attended the exhibit opening at Artery last night. Seeing that my house was just across the street, they decided to visit me. Despite the fact that all our lights were off, I mean.
Served them wine and cheese and caught up on life events.
Served them wine and cheese and caught up on life events.
I am glad that Google decided to not impose more restrictions on blogging.
Any kind of restriction is culture-bound and religion-bound like a very bad admissions test, and therefore anti-global.
Though I know that not everyone will agree with me, I believe that everyone has the right to blog, including criminals.
Any kind of restriction is culture-bound and religion-bound like a very bad admissions test, and therefore anti-global.
Though I know that not everyone will agree with me, I believe that everyone has the right to blog, including criminals.
No regular news programs today. Ever since I retired I could never tell whether it is a weekday or a weekend day.
Someone please tell me again why weekends are exempted from regular news? Don't important things happen on Saturdays and Sundays?
In the Philippines, news programs are run like bakeries. You get the last fresh corn bread on Friday night and then, on Monday morning, you get only the stale pieces that didn't sell.
Someone please tell me again why weekends are exempted from regular news? Don't important things happen on Saturdays and Sundays?
In the Philippines, news programs are run like bakeries. You get the last fresh corn bread on Friday night and then, on Monday morning, you get only the stale pieces that didn't sell.
Remi and her friend Josie Webb came home briefly.
Now, 6:52 PM, they are off once again, this time to Heritage Memorial Park, to give support to Amalia. Apparently Amalia fainted at the hospital.
Only friends and relatives may come this evening.
Tomorrow, after Liezl's remains are cremated, the public may visit.
Now, 6:52 PM, they are off once again, this time to Heritage Memorial Park, to give support to Amalia. Apparently Amalia fainted at the hospital.
Only friends and relatives may come this evening.
Tomorrow, after Liezl's remains are cremated, the public may visit.
Ano, Pakiulit Nga?
Proofread your own work. Nine times out of ten, no one else should have to do it for you.
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