Gen, who charted this trip, said we would visit Mikiboy’s and Nonon’s art exhibit at Orange Gallery. Now, when I think of Mikiboy’s works, images of pig’s heads, disemboweled dogs, green, orange, red come to mind. There was that chemical look in his works. Somebody said Mikiboy’s art is an attempt at surrealism. Attempt is such a brave word: it both embodies the possibility of winning and losing.
There are innumerable sensations that the mouth can achieve that our entire body can’t. “Mura siyay boss sa office. Close baya mi ——. Nya mura siyag malain. Hasta akong trabaho, kuti-kutihon. Manghilabot siya sa trabahong di iya.” “—— and —— had a conflict because of her.” “Si—— ba, okay ra siya para nimo?” “Okay ra man. Wap-a man sad ko kaila kaayo niya. Ngano diay.” “Pagbantay lang. She might turn you into an enemy as she usually does.” The stories cruised to figures I’m vaguely familiar with. With half an ear on the conversation, I scouted the place. Calea, Gen says, […]
THE cheeks are overly pinched. The eyes are shadowed with purple. The lips are painted red. The lips form a sickle. The mask smiles. Why do most masks smile? Happiness is hard to suppress. We wear it. Assuming it is contagious, it is our utmost intention to infect others with the happy virus. Or perhaps happiness is contrived. We exhibit our happiness as to make others covetous. Suffering fills the world, and happiness is the white dot on the black paper of suffering. Why do most masks smile? There is art in sadness. It requires discipline. Bending a concave into […]