— it is a difficult city to verbally nerd out in. Niche and often misinterpreted, it has often been much easier to play to the tune of glamorous fashion sprite with a hint of a rebellious streak, than to get oblivion clouded masses to appreciate the beat of a geek.
Always been a bit of an oddity.
I look forward to being a student of an industry in a city that embraces that.
Can’t quit wit.
-s.
Hi everybody.
I am taking this short break from writing my mildly overdue newspaper column to write something else completely - an outpouring of sorts likely, that has no final destination. And like many things with no particular place to go, chances are it’ll amble its way to you and you will be kind enough to entertain it until you realize it has overstayed its welcome.
I write this with clumps of mascara in my almost bald set of eyelashes; which nobody warns you is a possible side-effect of being in the modeling industry, just like they forget to tell you early on that you are in the business of professional rejection. Jolly good thing I got a head start on that when I moved to Manila as a pre-teen. Shutting shit down without just cause. Closing the door before even trying.
And though this is an attitude that gracefully committed suicide as the years progressed, it makes you wonder, doesn’t it, what that Graveyard of Potential holds. Crumpled pieces of paper with the beginnings of a genius blueprint. The cure for Cancer, maybe. A new color. A vital proponent of peace.
And so I have felt about music, on many days. What of collaborations gone awry? Lyrics lost to the grapplings of frustration, beats abandoned because of a sample that was just too much effort to clear?
Ah, well. Here is a story about what was able to both breathe, and give breath.
—
I first met Miles’ voice when it punched me in the groin.
There I was, alone, thankfully. Buckled over, slow to straighten, lingering in the confusion of palpable unfamiliarity, but feeling indescribably…safe.
Unable to pinpoint a place or a time on his music, giddy with the newness of this thing I had no name for. Something I could not, would not, attempt to thumb through folders to file. Something I wanted to run to Momma with, to slap my ex-boyfriend in the face with, to wrap up like I did my newborn and hold like nothing else mattered.
Miles Bonny, I soon realized, made sense between anything my iTunes shuffle could have possibly tried to sandwich him in - from Gangstarr to Jackson Browne, Sade to Jai Paul.
It was ‘Lumberjack Soul’ that made it’s way to my phone as a ring tone, in an effort to balance the frivolity and transience of an electronic ringer with as much mead as possible; timeless, honey-laced, balance-altering, thirst-quenching, truth serum.
But it was ‘J.Birly’ that had me horizontal.
—
A voice that lays me out, meets beats that —
…frankly, make me want to do things I am not at liberty to describe to you in detail here.
Jesus, B. Lewis
Deftly able to take listeners on journeys that make you try to remember whether or not he was actually there. The one that got away.The one you haven’t found yet.
Lacing cosmically deranged beauty with a gutter-morphed Pharcyde lyric on one beat, to wordlessly describing a crisp sock-footed spring morning in pristine sheets on the next; B.Lewis is the dude that waits for you to appreciate your perfect sunny side up before scrambling the f*ck out of it.
(Then he drops a calling card on your breakfast table that says, “Yin and Yang: Matchmaker”, and nonchalantly walks away with a piece of your toast in his mouth.)
—
From the gate of the Graveyard of Potential, with love.
With the fleeting acknowledgment the internet bestows new music, and the improbability of predicting the impact of this collaboration, the 7-tracks on Egg Black might have been lost to you. But even as an individual that is violently territorial about music that moves me, I am quick to recognize that not sharing this would be detrimental to everything I stand for.
So consider this the first time I let you in. Let you stay.
The first time I offered to make you breakfast, in nothing but everything I was born with, because that is what this deserves.
Together, Miles Bonny and B.Lewis have me laid out and scrambled.
Partake. Sustenance. Egg Black.
milesbonnyxblewis.bandcamp.com
-s.
An appetizer.
—
Laughing because journalists were allegedly flown to LA to interview Penshoppe’s newest endorser this week. Probably having had to sign a waiver of non-disclosure, which meant if they spilled any secrets they would be liable for millions of dollars in potential damages, the bunch has kept their mouths clamped shut about any details of their trip. Meanwhile, on Twitter…the whole world seems to have gotten wind of who the face of the season might be. Zac Efron it is? I wonder if he’s coming to Philippine Fashion Week? (As of this point, my journalist friends are still pretending they don’t know what I’m talking about. Awesome.)
~
Love and Basketball.
In other news, congratulations to my hubby Banj Billions (@banjbillions) on the new job - he’s coming in to run the plays for SLAM Magazine Philippines’ as their marketing go to guy. Which means my life can finally go back to normal, and your life as basketball and culture fans, is about to get unreal.
~
Start Here.
Don’t forget to check out co posturaproject.com blogger David Guison’s exhibit tomorrow (aka later) at Podium 6pm.
~
TGIF.
It’s officially FRIDAY!
If you’re not doing anything at night, swing by KYSS. Jeri Lee is in town and she’s always fun to watch dance.
Photo - Rey Trajano | Makeup - Rachelle Llanes
That’s it for now.
Excited about work I’m doing to keep building thebridgefiles.com. Slow and steady. Forward and upward.
I’ve made a little commitment to myself to put a little more energy into my blog, so tell me if there’s anything in particular you want to see. Ideas for writing are welcome as well - it’s been a minute since I sat down and just freehanded some prose.
Stay Gold!
-s.
Did you know he’s a visual artist too?
Bookmark him please. Sarah says.
-s.
Miguel - Adorn
Love the vibe. Hard to find good R&B these days.
Dear (some) Politicians,
The reason the public mourns the death of musicians
to a different degree and intensity than they do practically any other professional
is because musicians spend their lives
bearing all the risk
of telling the absolute truth.
—
Learn something?
Love,
-s.
- The way Kendrick Lamar’s voice breaks in his verse on “His Pain” - a track by BJ the Chicago Kid. “I don’t know why you keep blessing me…”
- The smell of tinola cooking in my kitchen.
- How many major brands are taking interest in our Platform event.
- The love note my 6 year old daughter just gave me (and how she’s unflinching in her desire to come watch a J.Dilla tribute documentary showing with me while her Dad plays basketball tonight).
- My brother’s unhindered genius in words and music.
- The work that has been flowing in and making quality of life just…superb.
- That I woke up this morning.
- That my “Stay Gold” tattoo is permanent.
- The amazing things I’m able to do for Philippine fashion and independent designers in the next few weeks with both Platform and The Postura Project.
- For the burn in my triceps and thighs after a painful first visit to my trainer in 3 years.
- Everyone that takes the time to tell me little things that moved them, or that they appreciated, on Tumblr, on Twitter, in person - even though they know I’m weird and shy about replying or taking compliments like that.
- That my eyes are green, my skin is brown, and my hair is black.
- Assistance, in the form of assistants, and team mates, and friends, and family.
- My iPhone. No joke.
- Skin Science offering to be my dermatologist sponsor, and Alex Carbonell at Studio Fix finally coming back into the picture to take care of my hair.
- The Fernando sisters - listeners of our radio show that turned into two of the biggest supporters I’ve ever known. Regular box deliveries of homemade pandesal and cupcakes, banana chips, pastillas…you name it. Texts and DMs that you were remembered at Mass. So consistent.
- MY SQUAD. Teamwork makes the dream work, and I think I’ve finally found my magic links for the chain I need to haul this vision into reality. #TheBridge
- Sago’t Gulaman. Yun lang.
- And this amazing art installation by Claire Morgan:
-s.
“Now I know why He keeps blessing me…
…so I can bless you.”
- Kendrick Lamar
Just if you have 19 minutes. Or if you were wondering what I happened to do for 19 minutes today.
Just if you happen to see what elicited the little smile in connecting a picture I took of a book on Sunday, with a video I watched on Thursday.
Just if.
If not, then that’s cool too.
*smiles*
-s.
—
And at this particular moment in time, everything makes a little more sense than it has in months. Which is nice.
But I am still laboring to get everything under control.
(Control. Do we even like that word?)
-s.
Do not be scared.
It’s okay to be scared.
It means you are risking. Living. Loving. Open to failing. Learning. Open to losing. Open to winning. Open to greatness. Open.
You got me open.
This year, with your blogs and words, and music, and cooking. Your smile and friendship. Your art. Those photographs you took. The ones you didn’t take because we were so caught up enjoying the moment. On the dance floor. In cars, leaning against kitchen counters. Randomly seeing you crossing the street, or at a mall.
Even if I don’t really know you, or you me. I like what I see.
Life changing moments.
Retreats.
Advances.
The Brooklyn Hip Hop Festival.
Germany. Zurich. Rome.
Seeing Oma.
Buying my first piece of art for my wall and thanking myself every single day for it.
Kaya sends me text messages now. My baby verbalizes her feelings. It is the ability I want to equip her with the most.
Christine is still sleeping.
Social media has emphasized why I hold onto the people I do, and why I have distanced myself from others.
To the kids I have had conversations with. The ones willing to wear our love for the Philippines on their heads like a Camila Parker-Bowles wedding hat with me.
New York.
And yes, even the NBA.
My real life basketball wives. And children.
Victoria Herrera.
Hello, purpose. You too, practicality.
Okay, Christianity. Buddhism, delight me.
(Anything but de-light me.)
Dream Hampton and Warsan Shire.
Pablo Neruda.
The Bridge. The Deck.
Ikiru+Domingo.
Philippine Fashion.
Mon Jimenez.
Everyone we featured in our book.
We, Creative Natives.
Let the dollar circulate.
I dedicate 2012 to Erica Paredes.
I will hold my husband’s hand through every single day of it.
June Marieezy.
Joey Espino.
My reflection in the mirror.
My Father’s ashes.
Mama and Tino.
The Playmates.
Everybody loves the sunshine.
-s.
#PhilippineFridays
Cc: Erwin Romulo and Luis Katigbak
Just stepped out onto my balcony and had a seat, with a melting chocolate truffle between my left thumb and pointer finger - a mug of spearmint chamomile tea in my right hand.
Taking a moment.
Realizing, thinking, that tucked within the folds of the incomparable totality of being a wife and mother, are the strains of difficulty — because as a writer, and the daughter of a misanthropist hued family — I was so good at (and did find comfort in) being alone.
-
And as I think this, a wife and mother in an apartment across and below from mine, done cleaning her home, brings her broom and dustpan out to her balcony. Before she turns back in, her child’s bubbles catch her eye. She opens them.
And as she blows the slick rainbow tinged soap over the balcony, closes the plastic bottle, and ducks in under the curtains - I want to yell and ask her to stay awhile.
But we’re wives and mothers, you see.
We can’t.
-s.
I’m not particularly sure how long this will last, for I have been known to fizzle out on rampages before (slow to amuse on the most part, quick to dampen, unless surrounded by torch bearers), but here it is:
I have made the decision to crossover from my detached and internal ways, and join this manic world of RSS feeds and blogs and…self-help books?
Yes.
I am going to start researching. Perusing the products of my industry. Surfing the internet for inspiration, and maybe, maybe I’ll even begin listening to audiobooks.
*slight dip in voice due to lack of conviction*
Because I caught myself saying the other day:
“To be honest with you, I write for newspapers that I don’t read and magazines that I don’t subscribe to. Host television shows I don’t watch. Model clothes I don’t buy. I produce content for blogs I don’t check. I’m kind of a useless consumer.”
Which, on the whole, is 1) sort of disgusting and bratty sounding, but 2) a testament to my creative process. Oblivious to the conscious absorption of what the world has to offer, frolicking in the chambers of my insides (yipeee!), manifesting ideas based off of conversations and billboards and memories and travels and feelings. Things I never had to look for. Things that came to me.
But what if I made the effort?
What if I chose to really stick my nose in everyone’s business, scope out what was cracking all around the globe, scroll through lists made by successful people for successful people? What if I read more? Applied more? Just…exerted more?
Would I be even more able, more successful than I am now?!
Cor blimey. If that’s the case, then why not give it a whirl?
BECAUSE I LIKE BEING GOOD AT THINGS.
(Apparently brushing my hair is not one of them. Please excuse the picture.)
I just got me a blog feed starter-kit for rookies. And this is my first non-diary rambling, non-cryptic, non-reblog post….ever(?). Let’s see how this works out, shall we?
A FOR EFFORT!
-s.
Alternate blog post title: ”To all the teachers that said I was brilliant but never applied myself…tama nga pala kayo.”
—
Confetti over — my intern Alyssa Lapid for introducing me to all her fellow fashion blogger friends. I’m not at outfit and event posts yet, but…;)
Do you have a go-to socket? Something to plug into when you feel depleted, drained, running on empty?
Quiet/music, solitude/company, traveling/staying still, eating/feeding, writing/reading, playing/praying.
My night time prayer for you is that you find your perfect fit: the socket that doesn’t need adapters or extension cords. That’s a wonderful thing to have.
In the meantime, my recharging continues.
Oh, the writing I will do when my battery is full.
✍
-s.
Just got done washing the dishes that had piled up over the weekend (which honestly seemed like all the plates, glasses, and cutlery we own), which came as a welcome break. There’s something cathartic about soap suds and cleaning. Ironing too.
(Not that I’ve ironed anything in the past year. Two. Okay, three years.)
It’s one of my favorite times to dock my iPod and listen to music. It’s also a fantastic time to reflect on the week gone by, and prepare for the one ahead.
In any case, I’m not going to spew out paragraphs right now, but just run through a list of thoughts I tucked away before I could fully think them (which happens far too often for my liking - I miss being a kid and being able to sit with a thought and just marinate in it for as long as you need).
Anyway.
Watched the PBA games at Araneta today. It’s been a long time, for more reasons than schedule, but nothing can replace the comfort of being at a basketball game. Seeing the homies play again. Getting the nods and “long time no sees” from the staff. Laughing and shaking my head at all the little player quirks that still haven’t changed.
Random thoughts:
- I don’t know how Alex (Cabagnot) can play professional ball in the same kicks I wear to the grocery. (Dunk Lows.)
- Thought about how many meetings it took to decide to change the carrying San Miguel Beer company team name to Petron.
- Speaking of Petron, their Blaze mascot dude could use a little height boost. He’s kind of short.
- It’s strange seeing Lutz play in a non-Gilas setting. Interesting to see the juxtaposition, and how a player operates when they’re on a team that has practiced together day in and day out, and when they’re not.
- Which leads me to a side note — is JaVale McGee really going to play in the Philippines? This NBA lockout fascinates and worries me.
- Quinahan and Belga make me happy. They bring, um…dimension…to the team. *wink*
- I wish Alaska well. Transitions are always tough, and I can’t imagine what it must be like to have to come to work one day without your fixture of a Coach being there. They’ve got such an able Team Captain in Tony (Dela Cruz) though, and the discipline that’s been steeped in them will help them through.
- Rain or Shine is coming into their own. Still one of the youngest teams in the league, they’ve had amazing energy from Day One. They’re gelling well, and Coach Yeng (despite his endless string of “T’s”) is easy to like (personally speaking) because he knows what he wants, and will find ways to get it. I’m feeling them come in as a serious Finals contender within the next 2, maybe 3 seasons.
- I also like Jessica as a court side reporter.
- And finally; they need to not build a hotel where the parking lot used to be.
In other news:
- I’m on the verge of buying my husband’s camera off of him, or just stealing it. I’ve realized I don’t share my days visually as much as I could.
- I also haven’t spent money on myself in a really long time. Derma, salon, shopping, beach trip, bookstore, record bar. That would be nice. But when you’re a wife and mother, there’s always going to be something more important, you know? I laughingly miss being on TV like I used to, if only for all the sponsorships that used to come with it. Lol.
- Philippine Fashion Week is upon us. I’m not shooting this season, which I’m excited about. I’ve been fiending to enjoy the shows from the audience. Research. Catch up with old friends. This experience should be real good. Maybe in the next few months you’ll understand why :)
- I’m starting a new company/business. It’s my dream business, actually. I hope that when I’m ready to say a little bit more about it, it’ll be welcomed warmly.
- That, and my two other “secret” business endeavors. One of which we get to break out by the end of this week (!!!) - so stay tuned.
- And…Christine, our Sleeping Beauty, rests still. I spent the weekend reading up on coma patients and how to best stimulate them, but had to stop at a certain point because of some of the stories. I am a realist, but also know that when I’m focused on getting results, I do not dwell on/with people that tell me “no”. The internet is one big cauldron of opinion, and information, and truth, and lies. How to simmer, how to sieve, how to differ.
I had more to write, but I think I’ll leave it for another day.
But before I say goodnight, I would just like to reiterate how incredible it is on the days that Nyoy Volante sings at church. I love music at Mass in general, but because his influences are likely similar to mine, having Nyoy vocalize and play piano makes me feel that much more serene and at one with God’s love, light, and beauty.
(For those of you who don’t know who Nyoy is, I mean - it’s equivalent to having, say, Raphael Saadiq singing for you during prayer and worship.)
And so. This might be the longest non-themed entry I’ve ever written. Maybe I’ll do it again next week. In the meantime, I leave you with this:
Isn’t that pretty? (via blackNYX.)
Cheerio. ッ
-s.
