Festival Photographer

My wide lens is gone

2009-10-25T21:56:00.003+08:00

Nope. I didn't loose it to thieves. For a split second, I questioned Murphy's Law and paid the ultimate price. I dropped my 16-35mm ultra wide 2.8L lens while shooting a bride clutching her father entering the church. I was using my 70-200mm lens doing a detailed shot of them just before they entered the room because the father of the bride was so filled with emotion he was trying hard not to reveal. I knew I would be in trouble working with just one camera body for this shoot, but I had no choice. I had to sell my other body back in the Philippines so I could have additional pocket money coming here.

I was in the process of changing lens so I could take a wider shot as they came nearer so I could capture the crowd as well. I didn't see it coming. I mean, who does? For a moment, as I dismounted my telephoto lens, laid it on the floor on a kneeling position (there was no time to place it in my Tamrac waist case hanging on my waist) and went for my wide lens in my left blazer pocket while getting back up, my wide lens, filled with beautiful memories together, suddenly fell off the damn pocket! All 600 grams of delicate light refracting equipment went free fall at the rate of 9.8 meters per second squared from that short distance of my pocket to the floor!

Relax, I assured myself. I dropped this lens before. Not really that high from above my waist, but I dropped it before. Had a slight dent on the dust filter because of that, but no harm done. No big deal, Ed. Besides, the floor was made of wood. Yes Ed, it was wood with some shock absorbing characteristics with probably just a 2.0 on Moh's scale of hardness. (Talc is 1.0, window glass is 5.5 and diamond is the highest at 10). Past impacts were on solid concrete, tiles or polished hard and cold marble flooring.

Who was I fooling? Aside from the imagined reaction of the Iglesia congregation behind my back who emphasized on solemnity of the occasion with an earlier lecture of unobtrusive photography by the officiating head, I knew something was wrong. It's this flashback feeling, the thing you see in movies when you have a car accident and everything flashes right by the victim's eyes. After about two years of shooting with this lens, I actually felt for this lens. Find me over reacting, but its funny how time can also freeze for inanimate objects close to your heart in near death experiences.

My lens didn't exactly die that day. It was more like it was in a state comatose. There was still some life left in it as far as I knew. I peered into it from both ends and knew, there was still life in it. While I couldn't find any data on how much Gs (shock) my lens could actually withstand, it was enough to give my camera body a flatline reading.

Err 01. Communication lens error. Please clean the contacts of your lens.

I did try cleaning my injured lens during the rest of the shoot. Nothing. Took off both batteries from the battery pack to give it a cold reset. Nothing. Let it rest for an hour and hope it heals back itself before the entire wedding ends so I can get a few more important shots. Nothing. It was there, but then again I wasn't sure. I was in a survival mode myself during the past few months and was hoping me, my camera and my lenses would pull it through. One day at a time.

My heart sank that day. My lens let me down. Or was it me letting my lens down? I knew one of these days I needed to be extra careful with my equipment because they were all I got left. With more shooting commitments up in the next couple of days, I went blank myself like my lens.

I shut down. With still a few more hours left in the wedding, I couldn't shoot. My new friend Clark who was also covering the wedding tried to console me and told me to shoot with my other telephoto lens. Nope. It didn't work. Yes, the 70-200mm is my favorite lens and was at least working. But it didn't make any sense. I usually thought of myself as a highly rationalizing being. I work with logic and valid reasoning. The most logical thing to do now was to work with what I have, just like what Clark said. Aside from my favorite lens, I still had with me my fish eye lens.

But no, I couldn't shoot. It felt like a part of me just died.

I did manage to finish shooting the wedding that day. Improvised. Made use of my two other lenses. My heart wasn't in it. But, I had to. It used to be, I loved to. Clark had to leave prematurely and I was the only choice left for the bride and groom who were expecting me to take a post wedding reception shoot for them. Made several shoots later at the reception's garden. Later, I found out it was a damn pretty good garden. Beautiful. Almost heaven like.

It was a long night.

(A few days later, after trying my best to forget my wide lens and get on with it, I checked my shots. In particular, I checked my shots after my 16-35mm was gone. Not bad. Some pretty good shots, actually. And then suddenly I realized the beauty of it all. My wide lens never left me. It helped me see things with a different perspective. It helped me see things from a far perspective.)

Reunion

2009-03-25T22:14:00.026+08:00

Francis Santiago. Finally, after almost a year, I got to meet the subject of my winning shot during the 2008 Bangus Festival photo contest. (Don't get me wrong but exotic is not a sexual preference of this photographer.)

His group was supposed to be the guest performer at the street dancing competitions of the Hundred Islands Festival in Alaminos City this year. Even before any group could perform, however, word spread out that this group, Tribu Pandan, the winners of the recently concluded street dancing competition (open category) of the 14th Panagbenga Festival in Baguio City last month would join as an entry. Not another competing entry dared show up. Not even the juicy first prize of P75,000 could make them change their mind.

Me and my mentor good friend Raymund Sto. Domingo were so disappointed since we had to rush all the way from Dagupan in my rusty (yup, not a typo) pickup at six in the morning after a hasty breakfast of our official pink salmon sandwich and coffee, only to discover we had to contend ourselves with one streetdancing group. Not exactly our idea of fun.

Anyway, since there was not much we could do about the whole thing, I decided to make the most of whatever was left of the morning and engage the handlers of the guest performers in a small talk and hope I dig up some interesting facts I could use for this blog.

I first met the group earlier last year during their local Mapandan Festival of which they were champions. A few weeks later, the same group won again during the Festivals of the North street dancing competition of the 2008 Bangus Festival.

Choreographed by Jonas Dizon and handled by Josefina Landingin Soriano both of Mapandan in Pangasinan, the group shows a lot of promise because of the details of their distinct costumes, a variety of new and original props, their dance routine and above all their catchy original music. I learned the music was produced by the town's mayor, Jose Ferdinand Calimlim, written by Vincent de Jesus who composed the soundtracks for Baler, Pisay and Crying Ladies among others and peformed by May Bayot, Lani Misalucha's older sister. The music has been used by their own Mapandan Festival as its official dance score since their local festival started five years ago.

According the Jo Soriano, they already have their eyes set on the Pattaraday Festival in the province Isabela which they have been invited to compete in May this year. The festival has traditionally invited winning entries of big names in the national scene of street dancing like the Dinagyang Festival and the Sinulog Festival. Here's to hoping this kabaleyan group continue to inspire other local groups to improve on their otherwise ecological friendly costumes and historical performances by winning once more. (Ecological and historical since local streetdancers tend to recycle and repeat last year's grand idea.)

And Francis? He tells me his photo has already graced a calendar of a prominent mall in Dagupan City.

So Far Away: My close encounters with the Taong Grasa of Dagupan

2009-03-07T23:59:00.003+08:00

A Photo Exhibit by Ed Sevilleja
Exhibit Notes by: Kaye O'yek, Manila

Ed Sevilleja’s collection of photographic images in SO FAR AWAY portrays different images of the street vagrants of his hometown, Dagupan City. This assortment of candid portraits, called Mga Taong Grasa ng Dagupan by the multi-awarded photographer, started in 2006 as a side project that centered on these oft-neglected personalities mocked or ignored in the peripheries of functioning society, providing close encounters that common passersby rarely ponder on. They are there, and they are smelly, filthy, and out of it, and so what? We see them and we continue on our way through the humdrum rhythms of our daily lives.

Finally presenting his Mga Taong Grasa ng Dagupan to the public in SO FAR AWAY, Sevilleja exhibits the personalities he encountered roaming the town streets with his favorite lens. In doing so, and choosing the most striking pictures that create a visual narration of poverty, hunger, detachment and deprivation, he forces us to take a second look, evoking not pity but empathy, grabbing a few minutes of our attention and letting these images burn indelible imprints on our consciousness before we go back to our collective apathy.

By focusing his viewfinder on these individuals, the photographer captures various characters in their natural state, freezing un-posed instances with his camera. In Takeout, the taong grasa seems to be beckoning, offering scavenged food from a popular fast food chain. Kama depicts a grease man lying on bare cement, apparently resting from exhaustion or as an escape from reality. Kodak is a picture of a playful mirroring of the photographer in action. Istrol shows us a woman walking the streets in broken rubber sandals and utter nonchalance, comforted by a cigarette in her hand. In Buyangyang, easily the most revealing portrait of the lot, Sevilleja chooses to print his image in wallet size and let the audience peer through it a few meters away within the exhibition space and see the details of the picture through a telescope, defining the concepts of distance and intimacy.

Using a telescopic lens to capture most of the images, Ed Sevilleja keeps his distance from these seemingly unstable subjects because of the risk of physical harm, but his interest for his Mga Taong Grasa ng Dagupan nevertheless fuels his passion for pursuing the project and being on alert each time for that click-worthy moment only determined by a sharp eye for irony and aesthetics. With these portraits on photographic paper, Sevilleja affords us a way of seeing things from different perspectives, from realities close but still so far away from our own. In introducing these characters, he lets us dip our toes into their proverbial vessel of consciousness without total bodily immersion, creating visual confrontation against our own sensibilities without going into hyperbolic dramatization or psychology. The lines in the faces are enough, the images speak for themselves, and we are mere witnesses.

Painting workshop and trying to achieve an alpha state of consciousness

2009-02-14T10:05:00.009+08:00

Ed: Pipol. Cut d crap, cut d niceties! Just get your ass at nepo b4 12:30 2day! If u cant or dont even know y, btr think again if ur in the ryt group! Gudam!

And so there goes my wakeup call to my art buddies via my celfone. A painting workshop is just hours away and I just want to make sure today is November 10 on their calendars as well as mine. As festival director of the 2nd Dagupan Arts Festival, I feel like it has become my obsession to spell T-I-M-E-(space)-M-A-N-A-G-E-M-E-N-T in the conscious part of my art buddies' brains -- c-o-n-s-i-s-t-e-n-t-l-y.

Franz: Uhm, ok. Did u rili send dt msg to evry1. Whoa!

Ed: Yup, hehe. Dats how i show my love n concern 4 dem! Im telling u franz, dis bunch is diffrnt. Dey hav a hard time staying in d conscious part of der brains, hehe.

About 25mins later, my old photography buddy Pipo who lives in Mangaldan (some 20mins away of easy driving) replies in a protesting tone..

Pipo: Pano yan boss, inaspalto nila daan namin.

Ed: Sy*t, i ddnt know ur ass was connected 2 d seat of ur car..

Aba, humirit pa rin..

Pipo: Sory dats my get up. R u nt readin my profile? http://www.mousehousecafe.com/DAC/Profiles/DomagasPipo/profiles-domagaspipo.htm

Dude, I did your profile. But, ok, ok... lets try to be a bit democratic today...

Ed: Onga naman. However, did u knw asphalt has (practically) no curing time or ur not in your conscious part of ur brain again..

Damn, can't help it buddy...I wanted to be nice today since we need every bit of muscle if not the thinking organ of everyone for today's activity. Kaya lang...

Some 2 hours later, Pipo still didn't reply back. Guess he's googling on his laptop (another part of his so-called get up) on smart bro for the characteristics of asphalt and its effect on his Honda's mags...

Damn, Raymond's not answering...he's facilitator for today's workshop and his line's dead. How good can it possibly get...

To top it all, Boni, our exhibit's curator at the same time who's supposedly in the same workshop venue isn't answering my calls. Wonder if nepo has gas leaks at its basement or something...

(to be continued)

Note: This WAS my first ever blog supposedly posted on November 10, 2007 at 10:05am during one of our better days when our 2nd Dagupan Arts Festival was staged. Haha! My adrenalin was rushing back then and from then on I promised myself never to write again when in deep stress. For some reason, I'm deciding to post this blog after all for all of my art buddies and hope they are all in a better state of consciousness, enough for a good laugh.
For those of you who wonder what ever happend to our painting workshop, we pulled thru. Raymund's phone had his usual perpetual lobat (even to this very day, he uses the same alibi), Boni claimed he never received any text and Pipo claimed he had a 2 hour detour + traffic problems. As a consolation, everyone showed up just in time and we had 11 happy participants in the workshop!

San Miguel Light as an economic indicator

2008-08-05T22:12:00.002+08:00

Some people watch the price of crude oil, gas, diesel, rice, dollar, eggs, sardines, chicken, the stock exchange, unemployment rate, inflation, etc., etc. as an economic indicator of how things have changed so that they can adjust appropriately.

Me, I simply watch the price of beer.

Taking a quick survey of the bars in Dagupan City (courtesy of the powers of my old N70), I came out with this list tonight (Note: for this purpose, we shall define beer to be San Miguel Light beer):

Mouse House - P35
Quattro - P40
Hall of Fame - P45
Music WareHouse - P45
Diner's - P45
Joshua Tree - P49
Shinjuku - P60
Disc Capsule - P65
808 - P70

While I still have a few bars/cafes not on my list yet, I can conclude a few things and derive the following:

Mean Price of Beer - P51.56
Median Price of Beer - P45.00
Mode Price of Beer - P45.00

For mortals who puke at the sight of complicated numbers with weird operations and labels, let me translate:

Mean is the your usual average, computed the usual way (total divided by the number of values), median is the middle value (values arranged from lowest to highest or vice-versa) and mode is the value that appears most often. In this case, (pun intended) the median and mode have the same values.

If you think this is complicated stuff for illustrating my choice of an economic indicator, you should figure out the scoring system of say gymnastics or diving in the Olympics starting Friday. Before computing for the final score among a panel of judges, the lowest and highest scores are first stripped out, averaged, then multiplied by the degree of difficulty of the routine.

Beer becomes lovelier after this.

Anyway, if you can still remember how much beer cost a year ago, I'd say the average beer was P40, about P10 lower compared today. If THAT doesn't indicate something in the economics of your current paycheck, then lucky for you. It's either your boss have appreciated the intricacies of this economic indicator and have adjusted your paycheck appropriately or your boss have deppreciated you, simply.

In addition to beer being a valid economic indicator (I assumed you have agreed with me since you have followed this spirited discussion up to this point) don't you know that just by knowing the price of beer in a particular place, one can speculate with precision what kind of crowd a place have more accurately than forecasting the forex for the next day?

Take the case of a P35 to P45 a bottle range. The crowd for sure you'll find in these bars that have this price range are college kids. They'll probably buy a bottle and sit it out for an hour or more, not even caring to look at the pulutan section of the menu.

For crowds of the P60 to P70 a bottle range, expect a high profile crowd in the working class, from the yuppies to the executives, from the konsehal to the congressman. (Of course, beer for the female sex in a majority of these places have a much higher price range for reasons I cannot comprehend.)

So next time the big three in the oil industry announces another oil hike, don't get affected. Get out, hit the bars and monitor the price of your beer instead. The higher crude oil gets, the more reason you should enjoy your beer. Why, because even if beer is a valid economic indicator, the price of beer is not directly proportional to the increase of the price of crude oil. Rather, the price of beer is inversely proportional to the price of crude oil because beer is now actually cheaper than the price of diesel and gas, by-products of crude oil.

Cheers.

Homo habilis

2008-08-01T20:45:00.000+08:00

Homo habilis is second in line only after Hominid primates in an illustration I googled at terrestrialextras.com explaining the evolution of man. The website, as its name suggests, actually focused on Nativus coniunctus, a future derivative of man...but that's not the intention of today's exercise.

Furthermore, Homo habilis had a short body and long ape-like arms like the australopithecines. But they were distinguished from earlier hominids by their big brain (c. 630 cubic centimetres) and small teeth, according to another website at bbc.co.uk.

Now take a look at my shot taken three nights ago as we were on our third bottle of cold beer together with Kinigtot Bacolor, my artist buddy at the Dagupan Artists' Circle and Joy Ramos, my basketball buddy. It was one of those rainy nights we couldn't resist, most specially now that a night's out in our favorites bars in Dagupan just wouldn't equate anymore. An average bottle of beer cost about forty pesos before the oil crisis started this year. Now, a bottle of beer cost on the average fifty pesos! And even my favorite pulutan sashimi has inflated so much (I was talking about of the price, not its geometric volume), I reckon the average bar in Dagupan which keeps stock of it have problems with extending its shelf life for a few more days..

Well, the resemblance isn't exactly obvious, unless I subject my photo to Bones, America's famous forensic anthropologist (on television at least) to hypothesize how my subject would look like without his clothes on. Of course, he would have to be dead first since Bones only work with bones.

Drop the idea. Even if Bones were non-fiction, I wouldn't want to share this piece of supposedly extinct stage of man's evolution with her. He's mine. I rightfully own him. I even gave him a name, Carding. Shot him first almost two years ago (Takeout) when I started shooting "mga taong grasa ng Dagupan" as one of my more serious photography projects.

Unlike Eva Tot (see previous blog), Carding is one taong grasa I do not wish to communicate with.

Taong grasas are generally peace loving people. They try, as much as we do, to avoid contact of any sorts (not that contact) with other people.

However, Homo habilis had a secret weapon: stone tools. Crude stone implements were used to smash open animal bones and extract the nutritious bone marrow, bbc.co.uk continues.

That is why I am doing this comparison. Carding is one exception. Seemingly harmless, I wouldn't shoot him with a lens less than or equal to a focal length in a 2-digit range. I saw him once hurling rocks at some people who obviously earned them his ire. Mean. He didn't exactly smash open the skulls of these people, but if his aim had been as accurate as David (as in Goliath), the effects would have been the same.

Certainly, he is one violent soul, if he had one. I mean, if this guy was really a survivor 2.3 million years after he was supposed to be non-existent, he really wouldn't have one. Only Homo sapiens have souls I believe.

But then again, if supposing Carding didn't have a soul because he never fully evolved into a full Homo sapiens he was destined to be, what the hell is he still doing here, in the streets of Dagupan City?

An old pair of maong pants: Priceless

2008-07-08T09:22:00.000+08:00

I just shot the newest member of the cast of my ongoing human study project classified "mga taong grasa ng Dagupan" this morning.

After missing Marimar for about a month now, who mysteriously disappeared just like that, from her usual routine walks along Burgos-Extension-Tapuac road right before school started, I finally found a second female subject for this obsession.

Eva Tot, at least that is what she told me her real name to be, thus became the first "taong grasa" I spoke to.

I was on my way to work this morning (a rarity in my nocturnal schedule) toting my camera which I started carrying again after quite some time now since I haven't shot any of my forgotten friends lately...and suddenly, there she was...

She was sitting on our neighbor's front plant box...rummaging thru her earthly possessions when I spotted her. Nothing much really...a used Northern Cement bag filled with assorted foliage of some unknown species probably picked around the neighborhood and ordinary grass...a small spiral notebook and a pen...a yellow clutch bag and wallet...a Robinson's plastic bag filled with plastic bottles and probably filled with the rest of her dirty wardrobe...and a small bible.

Taking pictures of my forgotten friends was an idea which started more than two years ago. With a 70-200 lens, my fears of having an ugly unforgettable encounter was quite remote. After all, who could read the minds of these unstable members of society.

Talking to them WAS an entirely different matter. No matter how I convince myself that I should try make an attempt to somehow make contact with whatever is left of their inner minds, I chicken out at the last minute.

Once, I got too close for a tight shot of Simeon (I made this name up) during the last Bangus Festival. I didn't know he had radars underneath those camouflaged rags continuously monitoring "normal minds" if they strayed into his 1 square meter world. He gave me a cold cold stare, and wham! He gave me short chase, more of a dart really. Like a cobra, striking with the momentum of his hooded head on instinct. Luckily, the grip of my 30D sort of gave me a counter balance enough to maneuver me out of harm's way...

Picture, picture, I told her in my most casual voice as I removed the lens cap of my trusty 70-200. Cge lang, she nodded, an answer I didn't expect. Not bad for a start.

After a few laid-back "practice" shots, a technique we photographers use guaranteed to put any subject at ease, I started with a casual conversation... Ano pangalan mo? Not sure whether to use Pangasinan or Tagalog. Wala, she says without even looking at me. She was busy arranging and re-arranging her stuff in the white plastic bag with her right hand while holding her notebook and pen on the other. Ano ginagawa mo, I changed the subject. Nagsusulat, kung minsan nagbabasa, in a good Tagalog accent. She's not from here I assumed.

Ano pangalan mo, I repeated. Wala nga e. She said. Bakit wala? Sira daw ulo ko e, her eyes avoiding my camera. Sino naman ang may sabi nyan? I continued clicking. No answer. After a few more unsuccessful attempts, I dropped the subject.

Lets concentrate on the shot, moron. You're a photographer, not Cris Zuñiga. Smile naman dyan, I said since she never gave me an eye contact during the last 3 minutes. Bayad muna, she proposed. 20 pesos was her opening offer. Wala e, kinse pesos lang ang nandito, as I got some loose change from my pocket. Cautiously, (a flashback of the bangus man momentarily occured) I went near her, extending my arm with the coins to close the deal without giving her any chance to haggle, a technique I learned as a businessman..

She kept her part of the bargain and gave me a few, well, not exactly smiles. They were more of a mimic of me taking pictures of her using her hands as a camera, the sort of play kids do with an air camera. This is queer. Two months ago, I took real cool pictures of Moe from Mayanmar who did a stunning performance art like this during Tama '08 here in Dagupan.

And I went into short film mode. Clicking at around 2 to 3 frames a second. This is certainly much better than a smile. Syet, this will definitely look good with my collection. Pipo, my photography buddy, will give me another pat on my back.

Hmm.... After shooting about 10 to 15 encounters with my forgotten friends, I realized I was wrong. A bigger percentage of "normal" people I dealt with don't just keep their part of their bargains anymore, especially on money matters.

So ano ba talaga pangalan mo? Wanting to maximize my 15 pesos' worth. Wrong move. She went back to her stuff. She's good. Probably a better businesswoman during her "normal" times. Wala na akong pera e. That was the truth. Honest. I had a few more coins on my truck but I was afraid the short trip to get there and back might prematurely cut the encounter short. And I was having the time of my life!

Damit na lang, ung maganda ha, she said, and the most beautiful smile formed on her otherwise unwashed face. And instead of shooting, I just stared at her, half frozen. After my experiences in shooting street-dancing festivals, one of my favorite photography subjects, my finger almost never leaving my shutter button in case of a perfect moment, I was in freeze-mode! Damn. What was I doing? Hindi ka bisita! I can almost hear myself shouting at Renz, my photography buddy and "apprentice" during a paid shoot.

When I was able to compose myself, the f*@#n moment was gone! While thinking a million words to complete the phrase "this could've been ______", I sort of sunk into the pavement of my instant outdoor studio. (Incidentally, around 4 to 5 people in the neighborhood gave me a funny look during this fantasy shoot as they happened to pass by, not sure who was nornal and wasn't.)

Ok, back to reality. Pantalon na lang, I suggested. Wala ako damit pambabae e. After agreeing and somehow getting an old pair of maong pants to her, she was ecstatic. The pants was big, but she didn't care. She had another smile on her face. But somehow, I stopped clicking. Was this the moment us photographers feared? Being attached to the subject? Hell I don't know. She was probably 55 years old!

During the remaining minutes of this "chance" encounter, I finally squeezed out what her whole name was. Eva Tot. The surname was obviously made up but I accepted it. I also found out that her address was "kalsada". I also found out that she once had children....

The shoot lasted around 9 minutes, based on the time stamp of my digital files from the first to the last shot. The whole encounter was around 20 minutes, tho. What does that leave me with?

After stereotyping that "taong grasa" were dirty, useless and dangerous people, maybe I changed my mind. Eva probably had a deeper story to tell. Had I offered her GSM Blue instead of 15 pesos and pantalon, our outdoor set might have changed to an instant bar and who knows what our conversations might have led to.

Perhaps, she was a professor, an attorney, a hooker, or a politician (yup, probably a politician). A once normal person in our terms (I wasn't referring to the politician). Probably she had encountered many difficult downs in life. Until one day, probably she gave up on the world...or the other way around. Decided to live alone on the cruel streets of Dagupan, giving up family, friends, work, honor and her cellphone. Giving up the daily routines of grooming and took the concept of simplifying life to the most simple of simplicities.

Very interesting people, really. Robin Williams once portrayed one of these people existing even in rich America in the movie The Fisher King, of course with a better storyline fit for Hollywood consumption. But, really, they are the same. They are real people we encounter daily on our way to work, school, church. Everyone sees them on the streets, yet try to ignore them.

We pretend to be a caring people especially during a natural disaster like Cosme, joining civic groups to organize relief operations to help other normal people who lost their roofs, their homes. We lend a hand so that these unfortunate people can go back to their daily normal lives...

Hehe, nice one. Mga "taong grasa" ng Dagupan will never be normal again. Forever they will remain as the "conscience of our society" and remain just that. Just a conscience.

I shoot them with my camera, yes, because I am quite fascinated by them, probably like that weird girl who studied bears I saw on Discovery Channel. I do not intend to suggest a solution or movement like Pay It Forward and stumble into Trevor's grandma, another Hollywood "taong grasa". I do not intend to start a care home for them. Shouldn't this be what DSWD should be doing anyway? Or was it the Philippine Mental Health in Arellano-Bani Street?

But somehow at least, because of my verbal chance encounter with Eva Tot, I was able start my first blog, another obsession I was trying to start. Finally I had something to write about. Forgive me if I got carried away a little bit and sort of created a short story.... I'm an art photographer, not a writer.

And what did it cost me? 15 pesos and a pair of old maong pants. Cheaper than GSM Blue.