Sinunod ko na naman ang isa sa mga payo ni Maam MLV nung naging propesor ko siya sa Arch 57. Sabi niya dati, kapag nagsisimula pa lang, magandang humanap ng trabaho sa mga maliit na kumpanya dahil natututukan ang bawat galaw mo sa isang proyekto. Kahit isang linggo pa lang ako sa pinagtratrabahuhan ko, napatunayan ko na agad na totoo ito.

Sa katunayan, kakauwi ko lang galing sa site visit. Wala nga akong ibang maisip kundi yung tuwang nararamdaman ko dahil napagtanto kong tama ako ng desisyon sa pinili kong kurso. Naisip ko na ayos lang sa akin kung sakaling katulad ng linggong ito ang magiging panghabambuhay kong kapalaran.

Ayos lang sa akin na mag-disensyo ng kung anu-anong espasyo. Ayos lang sa akin na paikutin ang mundo ko sa makulay na larangan ng arkitektura. Ayos lang sa akin na magpuyat para sa isang proyekto. Ayos lang sa akin na sumakit ang ulo dahil sa kakapiga ng mga ideya. Ayos lang sa akin na mataranta dahil sa ‘di makatarungang pangangailangan ng mga kliente at dahil sa papalapit na pasahan. Ayos lang sa akin na masanay maghintay at intayin upang may kasabay kapag kakain sa tanghalian. Ayos lang sa akin na ituring na parang nakatatandang kapatid lamang ang aking mga kasamahan sa trabaho.

Ayos lang sa akin ang ganitong takbo ng buhay.


Si Kuya Emman 2

I was looking for the files of past plates which I could include in my portfolio when I saw these…



The excessive use of exclamation points and question marks, the bright red font and the crude comments sure tore our spirits down. But just like what Rejean tweeted the other day, ”[Sir Litonjua and I] will meet again. Someday. Somewhere. And we will acknowledge that all this made us better persons.”

Faith, Trust and Pixie Dust

Blue Valentine is one of those emotionally disturbing movies that are almost too painful to watch.

It’s like an adult version of 500 Days of Summer. It’s a love at first sight kind of thing where the guy has this romanticized definition of love and the girl has this childhood trauma hailing from her family’s distorted representation of gender roles. But from that plot formula in chick flicks, it spirals down into a catastrophic depiction of falling in and out of love. The film also has cunniligus and an almost unwanted lovechild. And the guy gets the girl and then loses her in the marriage-falling-apart-and-the-inevitable-divorce-kicks-in kind of context.

If you thrive on dysfunction, though, then maybe this film is for you. It reeks of misogyny and by the end of the film, I massively abhorred Cindy’s damsel-in-distress character. I hated that she glorified her tragedies and let them define her as an individual. I hated that she did not empower herself to appreciate family life differently. I hated that she lit up when she saw Bobby at the liquor store. I hated that she projected her frustrations of not being able to become a doctor onto her husband. And above all, I hated that she chose to see Dean as a slacker rather than as the guy who stepped up to take care of Frankie who, by the way, was not even his.

Think of it as a variant of Robin’s “what’s my ‘but'” scene in HIMYM’s Little Boys episode. Dean was nice but he was a loser with no dreams of living up to his potential. Bobby had a brighter future, though, but he was also the quintessential epitome of the alpha-male-slash-asshole stereotype. Cindy got what she needed, but as the film draw to its conclusion, it seems like what she really wanted was entirely different.

But that’s the drill. At one point in time, we will blow the deal breaker quality of our future partner out of proportion. Maybe, an argument would trigger our “childhood issues” goggles and make it seem bigger than it actually is. Maybe, a heated debacle will make us want an out and not knowing how to casually express the need for space could be the marker for doom. I believe that Dean was a perfect fit to Cindy’s life. But she had not been able to let her husband in because she didn’t even love herself. So, it’s probably not about the premise of the “but” but the hamartia itself that we should be wary of.

Well, it’s either that or we could totally rock on the same wavelength as Rosa Diaz’s as our ticket to happiness.