October 20, 2012

Montebello Villa Hotel: Its Lines and their Subtlety

On Memories, Drawing, Truth, and David Foster Wallace “What is drawing?” my high school TLE teacher once asked us. “It is the combination of colors,” a classmate answered for the sake of class participation. “It has shadows.” “It depicts nature and life.” “It shows emotions.” He nodded to some by-the-book tries, […]
October 15, 2012

Virgin Beach Resort: The Needed Solitude

Food and Accommodation: Complimentary WiFi: Yes Contact Number:   032-354-8661/0917-307-8341/0915-455-6990 Website: http://virginbeachresortcebu.com/  Waking up early and having a certain someone to wake me up are reasons to be thankful  A yawp. Then a scream. I stopped reading my battered copy of Jamaica Kincaid’s “The Little Revenge from the Periphery” and looked for […]
August 8, 2012

Quotes from Jeffrey Eugenides’ “Middlesex”

“What time did you go to bed last night?” asked P, who is always concerned about my crazy sleeping habits, which he thinks detrimental to my health, health-conscious as he is. “Hmm. Four, I guess?” I answered. There is no point in lying because he could easily see them through […]
August 2, 2012

My July According to Words

“I love reading books,” a certain Japanese answered the trivial getting-to-know-each-other question, “what are your hobbies?” though we both know to know was misplaced. I expected another bout of suspense thrillers since most Japanese find Haruki Murakami too baffling. “Do you know Kobo Abe?” The science of coincidence! My eyes […]
June 19, 2012

An Entry of Happiness

The fledgling ventured beyond its one-meter realm. With its still fluffy feathers, it returned to its nest once in a while. Its chirps accompanied my veranda mornings in Tuburan, my seemingly sleepy yet happy hometown in midwest Cebu. Nestlings confront life as soon as their wings can take it. They […]
May 1, 2012

Of Reading Fiction and Damaged Camera: Sad, Promising, Consoling Stories

Daku Island, Siargao Group of Islands, Surigao del Norte, Philippines  One of my camera’s last winks . . . A Sad Story “I have to admit, when you found out your camera was broken, you just laughed about it. I guess, others would cry,” Brian declared, whom I met during my […]
February 14, 2012

Louise Glück: Happiness

I desire to write a poem as beautiful as this, for you, P. Bear with the amateurish work of mine, in the meantime. 😉
December 2, 2011

Jorge Luis Borges | You Learn

  Pico Iyer, according to the  New York Times Book Review,  is “a post-modern traveler, rooted nowhere and moving in order to disprove the illusion of home. Travel for him is a metaphysical project—a meditation on space, a sermon on our estrangement.” Tuburan, Cebu, Philippines
May 31, 2011
Backpacking with a Book

Homebound

A lot happened, some were rewarding, some surprising, some unwelcome, some outrageous. But May indeed was a rewarding month.  I’m back on trails again. A call from a travel editor prodded me to reacquaint myself to the trails. Mountains, trails—they remind me of us, humans. They can be unpredictable, predictable. […]
April 26, 2011

SUNSTAR: Places of Memories

 [Past] does change. The present changes the past. Looking back you do not find what you left behind. —Kiran Desai, The Inheritance of Loss A traveler intrudes upon the privacy of a place. Yet, is it possible to be part of its privacy in a time too limited, too short, […]
February 22, 2011
Backpacking with a Book

Salman Rushdie| The Ground Beneath Her Feet

A photograph is a moral decision taken in one eight of a second, or one sixteenth, or one one-hundred-and-twenty eight. Snap your fingers; a snapshot’s faster. Halfway between voyeur and witness, high artist and low scum. —Salman Rushdie, The Ground Beneath Her Feet
February 18, 2011
Backpacking with a Book

Dean Young: The Rhythms Pronounce Themselves Then Vanish

After they told me the CT showed there was nothing wrong with my stomach but my heart was failing, I plunked one of those weird two-dollar tea balls I bought in Chinatown and it bobbed and bloomed like a sea monster and tasted like feet and I had at this […]