Kids in this warped and parallel universe are acting in a freakish, war mode. They are grubby (but retaining the plumpness and supernatural beauties inherent in their blood), ill-tempered and are eating this cold delicacy called scramble like elfin lunatics.
I asked the curly-haired one what possible topic I could write as an excuse for my blog entry today. I am sure I could whip sentences even under the word snot.
The curly-haired jewel said I must write about the guy she herself had caricatured above.
That is him beside me (explanation later) in this drawing.
She drew this one over a box of chocolate biscuits. By a stroke of luck, I was Ben Cabbed like a Beatle. I ended up looking like a cross-over mix of God's Only Begotten Son, Lennon and de Quiros. Skewered like a tofu, I could not complain much about the brilliant representation of myself in this on-the-spot museum activity teachers must adopt in classrooms once in a while.
I do not know why I want kids having their way whenever they eat or play. I want them to gobble their desserts all by themselves; never mind the smudges on their faces. I want them to roam under the rain like they are mobile pails.
Often, when you bring them to pricey places, they, too, shall act accordingly. They use the napkins and utensils properly. And they act more mature than the old, loud people.
One time, I had a bad chow deal in that I was served food quite smaller than the usual serving sizes. I complained politely. Since I brought along my dwarf young 'un, I told her to plant a kiss on the waiter's cheeks, him who had served me. It evened out the battle of manners in the long run.
Kids are the best accessories you can tag along in extremely hostile places.
This guy in the caricature? He is pretty much this carefree kid you can dutifully place on a high chair and he would stay there like a crowned king without a whimper.
He does look better than me in this picture.
Way far better looking than myself. The artist-kid has this answer why it is so:
"I can't draw you as you are. You are difficult to draw."
Amen to that.
On another note:
I am glad there was a huge howl over the tourism campaign slogan of the country. We have seen so much of the great works of copying and rewarding people hellbent on doing mediocre things. We have heard this exceptionality on radio, fashion, films and even the very psyche of noontime mental upgrade.
Case in point: there is so much blah regarding better services in our midst. Whenever I look up the streets though, I see the ugly electrical lines almost hitting the buses' roofs: they look like they have not been changed since the 1940's. You often wonder if the additional charges on your monthly bills are worth the punch.
Also, I have seen the footbridges in Quezon City vandalized by all these spray-painting people and I often wonder why there is a concerted effort to foment ugliness instead of just cleaning up the streets. Perhaps, that is one way of building up a fallen credibility: you have seen how these people are often bombed by their non-existent works and their exceptional public works in the past.
We often question expertise when it merely copies, goes to Rome and sits on excessive bonuses spent on violins and substandard rondalla gatherings. We deserve to be called a Third World country if we aim not for excellence but mediocrity. Enough of Psalm corporate hooginalism and more of affordable but quality services.
Hence, if new businessmen players want to enter and improve these things, aesthetically, sure as firehell, let us take them in and embrace them like our parents.
In a span of one day too, I encounter people who beg on the streets; I know for a fact (sometimes) that they are in there for the hustling haul. Some may surely need it, some just a kick to bilk some minor fun into their life.
This is my observation (like Conrad de Quiros' stake also): those who have do take a long time to part with even a meager five bucks for someone without a clothing. It is suspect, always. Those who are hard up, more often than not, cough up more.
I devised a new way of testing the waters. Just a while ago, I jumped into a jeepney filled with yacking teenagers in rubbers. Anyway, they were whining about someone who had slashed their salaries, taunting someone (named) as without any money. An urchin climbed onto the vehicle and distributed envelopes.
I told the kid : "Give them to these two smart ones. They have more money."
Repeatedly, this happens: they pretend the kids do not exist. They just go on their business yacking about the state of someone else's affairs. I wonder: if they could not even allot one peso for some begging hand, then, rest assured, pretty much of the cycle would revolve just around that. It is my way to shush them up.
Somehow, you find comfort that kids draw me precisely as another person's face. The equivalent factor for the gift: a much more authentic take on the realm of creativity that is no fluke.
I think that trade-off is much, much better.
On another note:
I am glad there was a huge howl over the tourism campaign slogan of the country. We have seen so much of the great works of copying and rewarding people hellbent on doing mediocre things. We have heard this exceptionality on radio, fashion, films and even the very psyche of noontime mental upgrade.
Case in point: there is so much blah regarding better services in our midst. Whenever I look up the streets though, I see the ugly electrical lines almost hitting the buses' roofs: they look like they have not been changed since the 1940's. You often wonder if the additional charges on your monthly bills are worth the punch.
Also, I have seen the footbridges in Quezon City vandalized by all these spray-painting people and I often wonder why there is a concerted effort to foment ugliness instead of just cleaning up the streets. Perhaps, that is one way of building up a fallen credibility: you have seen how these people are often bombed by their non-existent works and their exceptional public works in the past.
We often question expertise when it merely copies, goes to Rome and sits on excessive bonuses spent on violins and substandard rondalla gatherings. We deserve to be called a Third World country if we aim not for excellence but mediocrity. Enough of Psalm corporate hooginalism and more of affordable but quality services.
Hence, if new businessmen players want to enter and improve these things, aesthetically, sure as firehell, let us take them in and embrace them like our parents.
In a span of one day too, I encounter people who beg on the streets; I know for a fact (sometimes) that they are in there for the hustling haul. Some may surely need it, some just a kick to bilk some minor fun into their life.
This is my observation (like Conrad de Quiros' stake also): those who have do take a long time to part with even a meager five bucks for someone without a clothing. It is suspect, always. Those who are hard up, more often than not, cough up more.
I devised a new way of testing the waters. Just a while ago, I jumped into a jeepney filled with yacking teenagers in rubbers. Anyway, they were whining about someone who had slashed their salaries, taunting someone (named) as without any money. An urchin climbed onto the vehicle and distributed envelopes.
I told the kid : "Give them to these two smart ones. They have more money."
Repeatedly, this happens: they pretend the kids do not exist. They just go on their business yacking about the state of someone else's affairs. I wonder: if they could not even allot one peso for some begging hand, then, rest assured, pretty much of the cycle would revolve just around that. It is my way to shush them up.
Somehow, you find comfort that kids draw me precisely as another person's face. The equivalent factor for the gift: a much more authentic take on the realm of creativity that is no fluke.
I think that trade-off is much, much better.