tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-73668876478721815572024-03-14T12:53:08.500+08:00Marinduque - The Heart of the PhilippinesAuthor's Notes on the coffee table book titled "Marinduque - The Heart of the Philippines" ...and other island thoughts.Dindo Asuncionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18416966872428344564noreply@blogger.comBlogger7125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7366887647872181557.post-54232776532225906142008-06-11T19:14:00.000+08:002010-06-11T19:24:25.768+08:00A Secret on Understanding Women<div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">An email forwarded by my brother, Kiko contained this wonderful story with an even more amazing moral. Read on...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://i961.photobucket.com/albums/ae93/palapatik/From%20the%20Web/Message%20Avatars/118.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><b>T H E W I T C H</b><br />
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This is very interesting:</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">..........(to women) take time to ponder </span></span><br />
<a href="http://i961.photobucket.com/albums/ae93/palapatik/From%20the%20Web/Wizard.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://i961.photobucket.com/albums/ae93/palapatik/From%20the%20Web/Wizard.png" /></a><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">......... (to men) enjoy the story. <br />
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Young King Arthur was ambushed and imprisoned by the monarch of a neighboring kingdom.. The monarch could have killed him but was moved by Arthur's youth and ideals.<br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">So, the monarch offered him his freedom, as long as he could answer a very difficult question. Arthur would have a year to figure out the answer and, If after a year, he still had no answer, he would be put to death. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><br />
The question was: What do women really want?<br />
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Such a question would perplex even the most knowledgeable man, And to young Arthur, it seemed an impossible query. But, since it was better than death, He accepted the monarch's proposition to have an answer by year's end.<br />
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He returned to his kingdom and began to poll everyone: The princess, the priests, the wise men, and even the court jester. He spoke with everyone, but no one could give him a satisfactory answer. Many people advised him to consult the old witch, For only she would have the answer. But the price would be high as the witch was famous through<br />
out the kingdom for the exorbitant prices she charged.<br />
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The last day of the year arrived and Arthur had no choice but to talk to the witch. She agreed to answer the question, but he would have to agree to her price first.<br />
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The old witch wanted to marry Sir Lancelot, The most noble of the Knights of the Round Table, And Arthur's closest friend! Young Arthur was horrified. She was hunch-backed and hideous, had only one tooth, Smelled like sewage, made obscene noises, etc.<br />
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He had never encountered such a repugnant creature in all his life. He refused to force his friend to marry her and endure such a terrible burden,<br />
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But Lancelot, having learnt of the proposal, spoke with Arthur. He said nothing was too big of a sacrifice compared to Arthur's life. And the reservation of the Round Table. Hence, a wedding was proclaimed and the witch answered. Arthur's question thus: <b><i>'What a woman really wants?' </i></b>She said<i>, <b>'Is to be in charge of her own life.'</b></i><br />
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Everyone in the kingdom instantly knew that the witch had uttered a great truth. And that Arthur's life would be spared. And so it was. The neighboring monarch granted Arthur his freedom.<br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">And Lancelot and the witch had a wonderful wedding. The honeymoon hour approached and, Lancelot, steeling himself for a horrific experience, entered the bedroom.<br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">But, what a sight awaited him.</span></span><br />
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The most beautiful woman he had ever seen lay before him on the bed. The astounded Lancelot asked what had happened. The beauty replied that since he had been so kind to her when she appeared as a witch, She would henceforth be her horrible and deformed self only half the time. And the beautiful maiden the other half. 'Which would you prefer? She asked him. 'Beautiful during the day .... or at night?' Lancelot pondered the predicament.<br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">During the day he could have a beautiful woman to show off to his friends, But at night, in the privacy of his castle, an old witch! Or, Would he prefer having a hideous witch during the day? But by night a beautiful woman for him to enjoy wondrous, intimate moments with?<br />
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(If you are a man reading this...) What would YOUR choice be?<br />
(If you are a woman reading this) What would YOUR MAN'S choice be?<br />
</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">What Lancelot chose, is given below:<br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">BUT.... make YOUR choice before you scroll down below... OKAY?</span></span><br />
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Noble Lancelot, knowing the answer the witch gave Arthur to his question, He said that he would allow HER to make the choice herself. Upon hearing this, she announced that she would be beautiful all the time... Because, he had respected her enough to let her be in charge of her own life. Now... what is the moral to this story?<br />
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The moral is...<br />
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1) There is a witch in every woman no matter how beautiful she is!<br />
2) If you don't let a woman have her own way, things are going to get ugly.<br />
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So, always remember:</span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"> IT'S EITHER 'HER WAY' OR IT'S 'NO WAY'!!! </span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;"><a href="http://i961.photobucket.com/albums/ae93/palapatik/From%20the%20Web/Message%20Avatars/118.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;"><a href="http://i961.photobucket.com/albums/ae93/palapatik/From%20the%20Web/Message%20Avatars/118.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br />
</a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;"><a href="http://i961.photobucket.com/albums/ae93/palapatik/From%20the%20Web/Message%20Avatars/118.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://i961.photobucket.com/albums/ae93/palapatik/From%20the%20Web/Message%20Avatars/118.gif" /></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Author Unknown [but whoever you are, thanks for this incredible story] </span></b></i></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><br />
</span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7366887647872181557.post-81509491355943662562008-05-15T23:43:00.069+08:002010-06-11T15:48:21.837+08:00Where Have All The Flowers Gone...<span xmlns=""></span><br />
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<i> Article written for and published on the Boac Mayflower Commemorative Program 2008... </i><br />
<div style="text-align: right;"></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>written by the undersigned. </i></span></div><div style="margin-left: 108pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;" xmlns=""></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;" xmlns=""><span style="font-family: Arial;"></span></span></div><br />
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b><span xmlns=""><span style="font-size: 28pt;"><span style="font-size: large;">Where have all...</span></span></span></b></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ex4mUJX1VP4/TAkhcbn-x5I/AAAAAAAAAC0/nGAF3do9Erk/s1600/where+have+all+photo+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ex4mUJX1VP4/TAkhcbn-x5I/AAAAAAAAAC0/nGAF3do9Erk/s320/where+have+all+photo+1.jpg" /></a><span xmlns="">First of May came with the rain. Not the kind that's harsh and unrelenting like slivers of glass that come crashing in sheets but a gentle, welcome shower that refreshes. The mizzle brought back memories of </span><span xmlns="">childhood in its bona fide, <i>unadulterated</i> mode [no pun intended]… and May in Marinduque, summer vacations, flowers blooming in this merry, lusty month.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
<span xmlns="">It's the start of a month-long devotion to Mother Mary, Virgin of the Flowers. And childhood mornings spent on audacious yet unauthorized swims at the cool, sparkling swim holes of Boac River [you've got to find where the secret spots are] side-tripped with hunts for edible wild guavas at the <i>kumba</i> [fertile areas near the riverbank]. We felt like miniature, local Tarzans then, wrestling with imagined 'crocodiles' lurking at the river's deeper parts and 'living off the land' with its bounty of wild fruits.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ex4mUJX1VP4/TAkjFB2gS_I/AAAAAAAAAC8/FiyG_cHQHaQ/s1600/where+have+all+photo+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ex4mUJX1VP4/TAkjFB2gS_I/AAAAAAAAAC8/FiyG_cHQHaQ/s320/where+have+all+photo+2.jpg" /></a><span xmlns="">But afternoon appointments were something else. A quick shower after lunch, a change of clothes, and on to gather bunches of flowers for the daily floral offerings to Mother Mary at the church. After endless Hail Mary's, we would line up at the nave's center aisle and walk in pairs to our Blessed Mother [didn't know that the statue was called Virgin de Las Flores; <b>to us children She will always be Mama Mary, no matter </b><b>what She wore</b>]. And in our most formal manner, we would genuflect and as daintily as our awkward fingers would allow, stiff from playing <i>holens</i> [tagalized for hole-in?] or marbles the previous day, placed our fast-wilting bouquets [if it can be called a bouquet at all] at a white-linen table at her feet. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
<span xmlns="">Then there was another chorus con fuoco of <i>Deus Te Salve, Maria</i> followed by hearty <i>Paalam Sa 'Yo, Maria</i> [So Long, Mother Mary]. That's our cue; the sleepy [and the sleeping ones among us offerers], tired from the long morning swim and bored by the long ritual, would mysteriously jump to their feet fully awake and gaily join the line for the most eagerly-awaited prize of the afternoon.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
<span xmlns="">The free candies! Sweet, yummy confectioneries that do not have to come from the meager coins in our pockets [vacation time means no regular allowance compared to your daily pocket money when classes are on]. Looking back in retrospect, I can't unequivocally say whether I came for the once-a-year chance of offering flowers to Mama Mary or for the <i>candies</i> [that's incentivation at its best]. I like to think I came for both; I still have self-doubts though.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
<span xmlns="">On the way home from church, a good two hours were free and so neighborhood kids, mouths full of bubble gum, White Rabbit or ChocNut spontaneously organized and form teams for a friendly albeit hard-fought game of <i>sikyo </i>or <i>tak-taraok.</i><br />
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<span xmlns="">Then home for the family <i>oracion</i> [evening vespers] at 6 PM barely able to respond to the lead 'The angel of the Lord declared unto Mary'; [reply] 'And She was conceived….' for my voice was hoarse from the constant shouting, helping coordinate my team to victory in the just concluded, closely fought game of street tag where we, hrmm... lost [ouch]. Joining the whole family praying the daily <i>orasyon </i>was prime…even crucial, duty: It meant permission from my parents and grandparents to go out of the house for an after-dinner sequel - a street game of <i>patubig </i>or patintero [Ah, midsummer's blessed, carefree moonlight nights]. Evening permit was good for up to 8PM, then off to bed after a compulsory quick scrub, recharging for another gloriously blithe, adventure-filled day of muggy May and the seemingly endless summer. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
<span xmlns="">Soon the blue, cloudless skies - now cheerfully dotted with multihued kites wafted by a virtuous breeze that smells of earth, grass and flowers - will turn dark and gloomy with unpromising storm clouds as the rainy season comes in on its cyclic errand to replace summertime. Yet we are happy with its exquisite thoughts, the enchanting memories that May, in its full month, gifted us. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
<span xmlns="">Perhaps, we find comfort in the thought that next year and in the years to come, the season of May with its mesmeric spell and chock-a-block complement of flowers and bounteous harvest; balmy melodies and sultry moonlight nights; its revered <i>Flores de Mayo</i> traditions, will once again come. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span xmlns="">Or will it…. <i>decades from now?</i><br />
<span style="font-size: 28pt;"> </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: right;"><span xmlns=""><span style="font-size: 16pt;"><b>… The Flowers Gone </b></span></span></div></div><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;"><span xmlns="">Deep in the rain forest the air was warm and humid: Its ecosystem perfect for the constant, mutual exchange between its residents of flora and fauna.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
<span xmlns="">Then man from the industrial era came and forced himself upon this delicate balance, upsetting what has co-existed harmoniously for millions of years.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
<span xmlns="">The forest is now gone; another kind of jungle stands in its stead: one in concrete and steel and runs entirely on fossil fuel. </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ex4mUJX1VP4/TAkoZiROFaI/AAAAAAAAADE/pX8FsQgLKLw/s1600/smokestack.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ex4mUJX1VP4/TAkoZiROFaI/AAAAAAAAADE/pX8FsQgLKLw/s320/smokestack.png" /></a></div><br />
<h4><span xmlns=""><i>Climate Change</i></span></h4><div style="text-align: justify;"><span xmlns="">Starting with flowers, </span>Pete Seeger<span xmlns="">, ended his <i>circular</i> song with flowers seamlessly injecting war and its turmoil in between. If man does not change how he treats this planet, we may collectively end up singing 'where have all the flowers gone' from a realist's point of view, rather than poetry.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
<span xmlns="">We now face a new danger, clear and real, one that will not be isolated to some distant land sparing us and our island but a real peril that threatens the only home we have – planet Earth. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
<span xmlns="">Global Warming is now felt all over the world. In the country, it has manifested itself in the droughts of last year, the current food crisis, and in the island, abnormal climate shifts, off season heat waves alternating with unexpected downpours.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
<span xmlns=""><b><i>Greenhouse Effect</i></b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
<span xmlns="">Every time we use energy from fossil fuels, indiscriminately dispose of our trash, etc, carbon dioxide is produced. It not only pollutes the air we breathe but rises to the atmosphere and coats it with impurities resulting in what scientists call <i>exaggerated </i>greenhouse effect.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ex4mUJX1VP4/TAkppjzV7hI/AAAAAAAAADU/q7XxY2VJX5E/s1600/diagram.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ex4mUJX1VP4/TAkppjzV7hI/AAAAAAAAADU/q7XxY2VJX5E/s400/diagram.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><span xmlns="">Normally, rays from the sun strikes the earth, roughly 70% of the heat is absorbed by the earth's surface and trapped in the atmosphere. Life on the planet depends on this greenhouse effect – without it, the planet would be 33<sup>0 </sup>C colder; ice will cover earth from pole to pole. Greenhouse or the atmospheric trap is provided by gases that include water vapor, carbon dioxide [CO<sup>2</sup>] and methane. However, "a growing excess of greenhouse gases in Earth's atmosphere threatens to tip the balance in the other direction—<i>toward continual warming</i>," warns environmental writer John Hart. </span><span xmlns="">Rapid population growth further upsets the equilibrium. As the numbers increase, more people produce more CO<sup>2</sup>, more forest and woodlands have to be cleared for habitation and agricultural needs.</span><br />
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<span xmlns="">Trees and plants, as we know, absorb carbon dioxide and change it to oxygen. With their dwindling numbers of greens, carbon dioxide we produce through the non-stop burning of fossil fuels dramatically increases resulting in more trap heat. Trees and plants, as we know, absorb carbon dioxide and change it to oxygen. With their dwindling numbers of greens, carbon dioxide we produce through the non-stop burning of fossil fuels dramatically increases resulting in more trap heat.</span><span xmlns=""> </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span xmlns=""></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ex4mUJX1VP4/TAnYX_X9YLI/AAAAAAAAADk/D8noQ0uorv0/s1600/greenland.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ex4mUJX1VP4/TAnYX_X9YLI/AAAAAAAAADk/D8noQ0uorv0/s320/greenland.png" /></a></div><blockquote><blockquote><span xmlns=""> <span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">Gloomy patch of dark gobbles the fringes of silvered ice sheet [Greenland 1992 (above left) and 2002 (above right</span></span><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;" xmlns="">)]. Global warming paints a similar image at the polar ice caps. Melting ice raises sea levels endangering coastal and low-lying areas. Soon gloomy will change to threatening if the trend continues.</span></blockquote></blockquote><span xmlns=""> Global warming is a complex subject, one that would require volumes to write on. It is left to the reader to learn more about it now that an initial awareness has hopefully been created.<br />
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And to those who are already versed on the issue, please do your share to generate a 'greenhouse consciousness' at home, to people we meet on the street. Just imagine on how uncomfortably hot the climate will be when your grandchild grows up [it's getting unpleasant even now, isn't it?}.<br />
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<i><b>A Simple Formula for a Knotty Problem</b></i><br />
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Complex problems can, at times, be solved with simple solutions. Try this one for size, a simple mnemonic formula I have devised and used: Save/Conserve = Less Global Warming<br />
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It's basically a two birds-one stone scheme: Whenever you save [who wouldn't want to, in these times of horrifying rising prices] you also contribute to the growing worldwide movement to counter global warming. Plain and practical.<br />
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Here are some ways to lessen our CO2 footprint [and please add your own initiatives to the list}:<br />
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* When possible, walk instead of ride. Use a bike instead of a motorbike. And use a motorbike instead of your car. Carpools maximize trips and gas usage. Have a regular tune-up.<br />
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* Check your tire pressure monthly, air is free. Underflated tires not only wear out faster but consume 15% more fuel.<br />
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* When in Marinduque, turn that aircon off. The island's air is still fresh compared to the city.<br />
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* Change from incandescent bulbs to the newer energy-efficient white lights. It's brighter, last 10 times longer, and uses about a third of power.<br />
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* Take care of that dripping faucet and check for pipeline links. Shut faucet off when brushing teeth, when doing the dishes. Recycle rinse water from your washing machine. If weather permits, hang your clothes to dry instead of using that spin drier. Wash and iron clothes in bulk, not in piecemeal installments.<br />
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* Unplug your TV or DVD player after use. Unknown to the consumer leaving them on standby mode consumes power with zero efficiency.That's why they're called vampire appliances.<br />
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* Set your stove to low once the pot starts boiling. Once boiling point is reach, temperature is a steady 1000 C irrespective of whether flame is on high or low. You save on LPG and lower your CO2 emission.<br />
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* Put that empty biscuit wrapper in your pocket, not on the ground. Dispose of it on a proper trash container when you get home.<br />
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Again, the list will go on and on… It's time you add your own.<br />
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MY GREENHOUSE LIST<br />
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[If you have more ideas, compile and share them or start a blog with your initial list.] <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ex4mUJX1VP4/TAnZzTw6XQI/AAAAAAAAADs/N2ATVi8zLDk/s1600/FloralOrnaBgGr2.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a></div><span xmlns=""><i><b>May as Earth Month in Marinduque</b></i> <br />
Advances in technology gave us globalization, a comprehensive term in which events in one part of the globe quickly come to have significance for people in other parts of the world. No wonder, even the greenhouse warming is now 'globalized.'<br />
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The world observed Earth Day on April 22 to call attention to the growing threats of global warming with a request for people all over the world to turn off their lights for an hour. It may have been for only an hour, for some it may have been only a few minutes but it burned in our consciousness [at least, for the fortunate ones who heard and heeded the call] that any individual can throw it his or her two cent's worth and feel significant – a part ,albeit, small of a collective whole.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ex4mUJX1VP4/TAnZzTw6XQI/AAAAAAAAADs/N2ATVi8zLDk/s1600/FloralOrnaBgGr2.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ex4mUJX1VP4/TAnZzTw6XQI/AAAAAAAAADs/N2ATVi8zLDk/s320/FloralOrnaBgGr2.png" /></a></div><span xmlns="">Perhaps it is time to add a 'green' component onto our May traditions. Not an addition that will alter what we have practiced and enjoyed in all these years but just an awareness on how we, including, the children can collectively make our neighborhood and ultimately our island just a little greener. Planet Green, Island Green. <br />
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It's a wonderful challenge that can be creatively institutionalized in Mayflower programs easily, now and in the coming years. It's doing our share of helping our world neutralize the threat of global warming.<br />
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We flood Her caroza with a bounty of flowers and offer them to her daily at the church. The arkos of Santa-Cruzan come festooned with delightful bouquets.<br />
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We love flowers but do we take care of the green environment they, including ourselves, need to survive?<br />
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Surely, even Mother Mary will bless us with a sweet smile if we give Her 'flowers' and Her green island some extra special care if only on the month of May.©<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Photos 3 to 5, courtesy of Encarta. All other graphics by the author.</span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span xmlns=""><span xmlns=""><span xmlns=""><span xmlns=""><span xmlns=""><span xmlns=""><span xmlns=""><span xmlns=""><span xmlns=""><span xmlns=""></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><span xmlns=""><span xmlns=""><span xmlns=""><span xmlns=""><span xmlns=""><span xmlns=""><span xmlns=""><span xmlns=""><span xmlns=""><span xmlns=""></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7366887647872181557.post-16340403084440911662008-05-12T13:34:00.000+08:002010-06-05T13:46:38.875+08:00Cover Design: Boac Mayflower 2008<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ex4mUJX1VP4/TAng5x68asI/AAAAAAAAAD0/WfHgN2mcA88/s1600/Where+have+all+the+flowers+gone+ver3+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ex4mUJX1VP4/TAng5x68asI/AAAAAAAAAD0/WfHgN2mcA88/s640/Where+have+all+the+flowers+gone+ver3+copy.jpg" width="494" /></a></div><br />
Cover Design used for the Boac Mayflower 2008 Commemorative Program<br />
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Designed in Adobe Illustrator by this bloggerUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7366887647872181557.post-78160477573758706642007-06-17T12:44:00.009+08:002010-06-04T00:52:48.976+08:00Shed of the Muses: A Painting by the Moon and the Clouds<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 22.5pt; text-align: justify;">
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<span style="color: black;">I discovered this hut at the end of long, uphill climb on my mountain bike. </span><br />
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<span style="color: black;">More of a shed really, rather than a hut. A roof of <i>sulirap - </i>coconut leaves handwoven in a criss-cross pattern atop four wooden stakes lashed with six pieces of bamboo that serve as handy sitters or makeshift bed for an after-lunch siesta. A farmer's hut, I assume though I never had the pleasure of meeting its owner. </span><br />
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<span style="color: black;">In the summer, it refreshed me with unending treats of fresh, cooling breezes on the bluffs above the valley. When the rains came, it gave a refuge in the middle of nowhere from the drenching torrents. It offered me not only a welcoming seat but a setting perfect for endless meditations on nothing and everything. A <i>secret window</i>, perhaps. </span><br />
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<span style="color: black;">Where there are no walls, we have endless windows and unlimited doors.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">I became so attached to this delightful, spiritually uplifting cranny that I would often walk a little further away from the makeshift hut to appreciate its beauty from a distance, drinking all the details in. A few paces would bring me to an opening in the foliage that offered a view of the lush valleys below. To the north, a bird's eye view of the Boac poblacion with its fortress church lording over it atop a low hill. I grew up in this town and have come to love it through all these years. </span><br />
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<span style="color: black;">Then one night, I suddenly felt a cautioning whisper that told me, reminded me that this place, this hut – like me, will not be here forever. Changes are bound to happen and they will. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">The worry turned into restlessness, silly me. Yet the more I thought about forgetting the impatience that was gripping me, the idea reinforced itself further. And I began to have what I call my “patented gooseflesh” crawling on my arms. It was my inner self prodding me to act on this “stupid” notion with unspoken, right brain hemisphere phrases akin to “go ahead,” “give it a try,” “something good might come out of this, you fool.” </span><br />
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<span style="color: black;">When an idea possesses me, I am simply helpless. It's like a futile upstream swim; at best you remain stationary not gaining any distance but the moment you stop, the current simply carries you downstream. It was the kind of restlessness that will not accept status quo. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">So I grabbed a jacket, shoved the camera into my riding knapsack, strapped my biking helmet, and got on my mountain bike. It was </span><st1:time hour="22" minute="0"><span style="color: black;">10 pm</span></st1:time><span style="color: black;"> yet I knew that if I choose not to go, I would have a restless night anyway, bothered and transfixed by the idea of capturing the image of a hut in the night time. With the full moon (no wonder, lunacy has taken over reason) and a pen size <i>Maglite </i>strapped to my biking helmet,<i> </i>I somehow manage to reach the hut.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span class="msoIns"><ins cite="mailto:Dindo" datetime="2007-07-02T11:09"></ins></span>Propped the bike upright with a couple of well placed branches (it has no regular bike stand to save on extra weight), rolled and secured my jacket on its seat, and mounted the camera with a cord atop the jacket. It would have to serve as my camera tripod (or rather a “bike pad”). Made at least a dozen exposures on full manual mode (long exposure time, full aperture opening, highest ISO) varying the settings minutely each time. I’ll worry about the reciprocity failure and other exposure brouhahas later. My concern at the moment was to get a respectable image whatever that means, without using the onboard flash. At this distance, it would be useless anyway. The full moon will have to be my light source. “Oh please, you helped me and my camera a couple of times before, help me now,” I whispered softly, pleadingly. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">And the moon did, aided by scattered, wispy, moving clouds that dodged in its silvery blue flood light. I sat on the hut for a while to allow the adrenaline settle back a bit before pumping it back with the long downhill coast (“crawl” on two wheels is more appropriate) with no letup on the brakes levers. And I bid the hut a heartfelt goodnight, comforted by the thought that if no decent photos came out of the camera, at least I have encapsulated its fascinating images, bathe in the moonlight, in my mind’s eye.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">When I finally uploaded my shots, I knew right away that it would take a lot of patience (and studies) to get an image going. I had to clean the unavoidable grains to come when the camera demands more light and the photographer don’t have it and the JPEG noise residues, of course. </span><br />
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<span style="color: black;">I can only pray I did justice to that cozy nook and its quaint <i>kubo</i>. Here’s how my feeble attempt turned out.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ex4mUJX1VP4/TAdQG1gACXI/AAAAAAAAAA8/XRiEXWcOmZo/s1600/opti-mansiwat-waiting-shedb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ex4mUJX1VP4/TAdQG1gACXI/AAAAAAAAAA8/XRiEXWcOmZo/s320/opti-mansiwat-waiting-shedb.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Admittedly, I also took some daytime shots but not one of them can beat the subtle low contrast shadows, the blue gray duotone overlay of the moonlight, and the tranquil mood the image imparts in me. The moonlight’s reflection on clouds peeking behind the leaves just above the roof makes for an interesting counterpoint to the dominant cerulean hue.</div>
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
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Now the hut is no longer there. At times, I still miss it.</div>
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
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And I know that looking at its image will never replace the quietness that cocooned me sitting alone in its shed.</div>
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
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Then again, I am glad I took that break, grab that window for a night time photo (I just clicked the shutter button, the moon and the clouds painted the image). Had I waited till later, the hut might have been gone before I had the chance to shoot it. </div>
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
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The hut called for me that night, I’m thankful I was crazy enough to have come.</div>
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
(Transience: A Haiku)<br />
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Ripples on a stream<br />
Wispy clouds on my coffee<br />
Here earlier, Gone.<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ex4mUJX1VP4/TAcyyvvEnvI/AAAAAAAAAAs/WqeEzBn7s-c/s1600/dla+initial.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ex4mUJX1VP4/TAcyyvvEnvI/AAAAAAAAAAs/WqeEzBn7s-c/s320/dla+initial.png" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 85%;">Postscript: My daughter Marinette, knowing how my mood, at times, swings from normalcy towards the <i>crazy side </i>told me this, “Pa, when you’re crazy and you know it, that’s ok. When you’re crazy enough yet you’re not aware of it, that alarming!</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7366887647872181557.post-63277651131304163272007-06-12T14:58:00.015+08:002011-07-19T18:53:06.284+08:00Boac Cathedral's Architecture: BAROQUE, not Gothic<div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
A green signage with white english texts stands at the front patio of the Boac Cathedral with translations in Nihongo and Chinese. The misleading signage mentions that the architecture of the Boac Cathedral is "<span style="font-weight: bold;">Fil-Hispanic</span> <span style="font-weight: bold;">Gothic</span>." This post aims to rectify this misleading oversight.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_y3VxU-8-2dI/TJyXrQHsCBI/AAAAAAAAAHA/gIq7zIE3XDI/s1600/wrong-signage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_y3VxU-8-2dI/TJyXrQHsCBI/AAAAAAAAAHA/gIq7zIE3XDI/s320/wrong-signage.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"> <span style="font-size: x-small;"> <span style="font-size: small;">Click on image below to enlarge to readable [actual] size.</span></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_y3VxU-8-2dI/TJyYmPqMj5I/AAAAAAAAAHM/IY2TQlIxxsc/s1600/church-signage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_y3VxU-8-2dI/TJyYmPqMj5I/AAAAAAAAAHM/IY2TQlIxxsc/s400/church-signage.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>"... The architecture is Fil-Hispanic Gothic..." </b>the signage boldly states.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Really? So where are the gothic spires?</div><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">--------------------------------------------------</div><br />
The only true <i>gothic</i> church in the country is the <b>Minor Basilica of San Sebastian </b>at Plaza del Carmen, Quiapo; epitomized by its distinctive pointed spires, pointed [ogival] arches, ribbed vaults, piercing pinnacles and pointed ceilings [below]. It’s a product of the Gothic Revival in the 19th century and its all steel construction is an enduring aesthetic symbol of the industrial revolution. <a href="http://whc.unesco.org/en/tentativelists/518/">UNESCO</a> has tentatively listed this gem as a possible World Heritage Site inclusion “<b>being the only <i><span style="font-weight: bold;">neo-gothic</span></i> steel church in the Philippines and in Asia.”</b></div><br />
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<div style="color: #3366ff; text-align: right;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ex4mUJX1VP4/TAdXMyZ_e6I/AAAAAAAAABE/0b6y27IPKz8/s1600/basti.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ex4mUJX1VP4/TAdXMyZ_e6I/AAAAAAAAABE/0b6y27IPKz8/s320/basti.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: 85%; font-style: italic;"><b> </b></span><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: 85%; font-style: italic;"><b>Basilica Minore de San Sebastian,</b>Quaipo Manila</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: 85%; font-style: italic;"><b><br />
</b></span></div></div>The Salisbury Cathedral, Clermont-Ferrand Cathedral and the Milan Cathedral are other first-rate Gothic examples from Europe. All of these edifices have notably pointed spires. Curiously, the Iglesia Ni Cristo [INC] has adapted gothic architecture in their church design, perhaps as a countervail to the ubiquitous baroque of Philippine Roman Catholic Churches.<br />
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Secondly, the <b>Hispanic Era in the Philippines did not introduce any Gothic architectural influences</b>. The missionary designers-builders, instead leaned heavily <b>towards the baroque</b>. In fact, no gothic churches were constructed in the country excepting San Sebastian church built in the 1890's.<br />
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The term 'Fil-Hispanic' Gothic is non-existent in both books or historical notes and in physical form - churches or buildings built during the Spanish times, with the exception of San Sebastian, completed in 1891 less than a decade before the end of Spanish colonialism in the islands. Note that Boac Cathedral dates way back to the first decade of 1600..<br />
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Boac Cathedral [and the Sta. Cruz Church for that matter] is definitively <span style="font-weight: bold;">Baroque</span> patterned by the Jesuits after Il Gesu, their mother church. The missionaries who supervised its construction [early 17th century] came from Renaissance Europe where the prevalent style in arts, sculpture and architecture was early baroque. In fact, the Papacy in Rome continued to be a principal motivating force and commanding Popes continued to support important architectural commissions resulting in baroque architecture being directly linked to the Counter Reformation Movement. Even the interior design of Boac church clearly relied on European Baroque.<br />
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In glaring contrast, Gothic prevailed in the 12th century, partially revived in 19th century hence the term <i>neo-gothic. </i>The word "Gothic" came from '<a href="http://www.litgothic.com/Topics/goth_to_gothic.html">Goths</a>' "....a term describing a group of Germanic peoples — the Visigoths and the Ostragoths..." considered by history as "primitive barbarians who destroyed classical culture." Scholars regarded gothic architecture, dominant from the 12th to 15th centuries, as "as crude and primitive in contrast to the beauty, symmetry, and formality of classical (ancient Greek) architecture." on which the High Renaissance and Baroque were based upon. Baroque and gothic can be considered then as opposites.<br />
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By and large, Baroque architecture’s emphasis is on girth; bulk is achieved via horizontality and width whereby Gothic stresses verticality and height. Baroque uses a preponderance of curvilinear shapes; ovals and circles suggestive of smoothness and gracefulness. On the other hand, Gothic relies on harsh, straight lines, on the predominance of isoceles triangles and trapezoids. If is further characterized by ribbed vaults, arch windows, and flying buttresses. Clearly, Boac Cathedral did not employ these gothic contrivances.<br />
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A picture is worth a thousand words, it is said, visual comparison of Gothic vis-à-vis Baroque architecture results in these:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ex4mUJX1VP4/TAzN89-2wzI/AAAAAAAAAEU/IRGT0GIIZVc/s1600/milan-cathedral.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="160" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ex4mUJX1VP4/TAzN89-2wzI/AAAAAAAAAEU/IRGT0GIIZVc/s200/milan-cathedral.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br />
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<div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>Milan Cathedral</b>: <i><b>Gothic</b></i></span> </div><div style="text-align: right;">(<i>Duomo di Milano, Italy</i>)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
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<i><b></b></i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ex4mUJX1VP4/TAyY0NPSD7I/AAAAAAAAAEE/ZgLpyouC5sw/s1600/script3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ex4mUJX1VP4/TAyY0NPSD7I/AAAAAAAAAEE/ZgLpyouC5sw/s200/script3.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: right;"><b> <span style="font-size: small;">Il Gesu: <i>European</i></span></b><span style="font-size: small;"><i><b> Baroque</b></i></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i>(Santissima Nome di Gesù all’Argentina, Rome)</i><b><br />
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<div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: small;">"The plan of the Gesù became the model for Jesuit churches throughout the world." June Hager <i>[Il Gesu and San Ignazio} </i></span></div><br />
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<b>Baroque in Philippine Settings</b><br />
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Philippine colonial conditions in the 1600’s were a far cry from those of Spain and Europe so the Spanish architects/designers and <span style="font-style: italic;">maestros de obra</span> adapted their design and construction methods to our local conditions resulting in an interesting mutation that came to be called <span style="font-weight: bold;">earthquake baroque. </span><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_y3VxU-8-2dI/SM5zCLYSfdI/AAAAAAAAACs/hrOeExZ5wiU/s1600-h/bnondo.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246257097184804306" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_y3VxU-8-2dI/SM5zCLYSfdI/AAAAAAAAACs/hrOeExZ5wiU/s320/bnondo.jpg" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
The Binondo Church [above], Guadalupe de Viejo [Makati, Metro Manila], and San Agustin Churches are some classic examples of <span style="font-weight: bold;">baroque, Philippine style.</span><br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_y3VxU-8-2dI/SM503KwqK8I/AAAAAAAAAC0/lcPhg2M2Lfo/s1600-h/san+agustin.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246259107063278530" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_y3VxU-8-2dI/SM503KwqK8I/AAAAAAAAAC0/lcPhg2M2Lfo/s320/san+agustin.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a>San Agustin Church [above] at Intramuros, Manila is an interesting study. It has survived the earthquake that leveled the city in 1645. In 1863 and 1880, the same calamity destroyed the city but the church literally stood its ground except for a few cracks on its belfry [left]. Repairs aimed at reinforcing the structure had somehow affected its architecture in what is now called <span style="font-style: italic;">severe baroque</span> through the influence and experience of the Mexico Viceroyalty and partly inspired by the Vignolesque and Herrera touches. As such, the revered church is now a World Heritage Site.<br />
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The vintage baroque churches of Montserrat de Marinduque [now Boac Cathedral] and San Juan de Marinduque [now Sta. Cruz Church] are veritable icons of our island’s history, of our identity and consciousness as a people. They are the most ancient, principal illustrative modules of Marinduque’s architectural heritage. Entrusted to us the current generation by our ancestors and to the clergy as its stewards, it is our collective duty to show them in their true light. ©<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ex4mUJX1VP4/TAzLEQbmmUI/AAAAAAAAAEM/0L8fKVMnrZE/s1600/boac+church.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ex4mUJX1VP4/TAzLEQbmmUI/AAAAAAAAAEM/0L8fKVMnrZE/s320/boac+church.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b style="color: #351c75;"><span style="color: black;">Boac Cathedral</span>: <span style="color: black; font-style: italic;">earthquake </span><span style="color: black;">Baroque</span></b></span></div><br />
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<span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="font-size: 78%;">Photos of San Sebastian, Binondo, and San Agustin Churches courtesy of aenet.org, Milan Cathedral -emporis.com<br />
Boac Cathedral Artwork - Dindo Asuncion</span></span><br />
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<b style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Footnotes:</b><br />
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<ul><li>Boac Cathedral and Sta.Cruz Church together, their history and architecture are covered extensively on the article "The Old Churches of Marinduque - Beneath the Mortar Plaster" contained in the coffee-tablebook "Marinduque - The Heart of the Philippines."</li>
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<ul><li>If the deceptive text of that patio signage is to believed, then the <b>National Historical Institutute (NHI)</b> who submitted San Sebastian Church as a Philippine entry for UNESCO World Heritage Site inclusion has <b>overlooked a vital historical piece</b>: Should we then inform them that <i>there is another and much older gothic church existing in the Philippines???</i>... <strike>and it is right here in Marinduqu</strike>e - <strike>the Boac Cathedra</strike>l ??? Oh, come on....*</li>
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<span style="font-size: small;">*Ano sa salitang marinduqueño ang "oh, come on" Sagot: <i><b>Ati Aah!</b></i></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><b> ________________________________</b></i></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0Boac, Philippines13.4491667 121.8372222000000413.3571522 121.74709970000004 13.541181199999999 121.92734470000005tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7366887647872181557.post-31314541435533407402007-06-08T11:39:00.015+08:002010-06-04T12:32:29.925+08:00Author's Thoughts: On Creating A Book<br />
<i>...from second thoughts to a first-rate dream...</i><br />
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"Writing a book is a <i>leap of faith</i>; you never know where you’ll land" that's how Hillary Clinton, who herself wrote a book, sums it up. It is a risk that all authors must take, not knowing whether the book will be appreciated by its potential readers or abhorred and thrown into a gulch so deep and far-flung to be out of reach of humanity. The attention it gets will always extend to the author: burn the book advertently and you turn its author into ashes, alter egos to each other.<br />
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Yet failure never seemed to have stopped humanity’s love of printed pages bundled between covers to immortalize man’s thoughts, to focus attention to a subject that possessed the author. Libraries continually archived tons of volumes, online blogs and web pages increase geometrically by the hour; proofs incontrovertible indeed.. Every creator, every artist takes that leap of faith, each one of us endures the uncertainty… still we plunge on. Whoever said that all the darkness in this world would never be enough to obliterate the light coming from a single lighted candle was damn right!<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ex4mUJX1VP4/TAh9oHknNTI/AAAAAAAAACk/PjGvvX8sV7g/s1600/mountain-campfilre.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ex4mUJX1VP4/TAh9oHknNTI/AAAAAAAAACk/PjGvvX8sV7g/s320/mountain-campfilre.jpg" /></a>When the coffee table book <i><b>Marinduque – The Heart of the Philippines</b></i> was on its conceptual stage, my vision of it was hazy. It was like looking at a rekindled campfire through the glutinous, pre-dawn fog at the upper slopes of Mt. Malindig. Oh sure, you can see the yellow glow of the flames outlined blurrily by the inky black of night, even feel its reassuring warmth - you're pretty sure know it’s there but it wouldn’t show itself clearly through the syrupy mist from as near as two meters.<br />
<br />
Vague, hazy, muddled. When objects (or visions) looked this way, it makes us wary, even scared. Yes, I could go closer for a better view but the flames will hurt me. So for a while, I just sat there on the grass wet with a night’s dose of dew, absorbing everything with my senses, finding temporary contentment with a cigarette, for the meanwhile.<br />
<br />
The chilly night air turned into a light but bitter icy breeze disrupting the peaceful status quo. Either I crawl back inside the tent, zipped up its flap doors against the icy wind, and abandon the rest of this blessed dawn snuggled in the warm comfort of my favorite wool blanket...<br />
<br />
Or...grab a hot <i>sartin</i> of coffee (it would make the nippy air a bit more endurable).<br />
<br />
My thoughts turned to the lowlands where I live, enduring the height of dreadfully muggy summer at that time of year, an overdose of which perhaps drove us to ascend the highest peak on the island and get a brief reprieve.<br />
<br />
And I chose coffee; at best, not an easy option at the 3000 foot level of Mt. Malindig at 3:30 in the morning. You're on a potholed, tilted slope covered with waist high thicket of highland grass covered with a night's load of heavy dew, while envelope in blinding darkness wrapped in copious, murky clouds. It rendered my reliable Maglite torch virtually useless. <br />
<br />
What if <i>Starbucks, Seattle’s Best, </i>or <i>Figar</i>o had an outlet near the summit of Malindig?<br />
<br />
To give you a fresh cup of brew, they would have to hunt for damp deadwood on a ground covered with a 3 foot growth of wild grass in the dark. After some time [seemed like eternity], they'll have a respectble cooking fire ready [patience is really a virtue here] comes enduring its heat to set up a pot of water and its barako grinds atop a wobbly woodman's stove, rinse a sartin from the now acrid smell of Tanduay T5 it contained from the endless tagays of last night’s story swaps by the campfire. When the billy (as friends from Down Under calls a pot) begins to boil, you give it another minute or two allowing the water to extract the coffee flavor from the barako grind. (Coffee connoisseurs advice, however, that we should never use boiling water for our coffee, brewed or instant. Use water several degrees lower than the boiling point – about 95 degrees C (boiling water extracts the unwanted acids and oils from the coffee grinds, ruining its taste.)<br />
<br />
<i>So much trouble for a mug of coffee.</i><br />
[It never entered my mind at that time that writing (and creating) a book would be a thousand times more].<br />
<br />
Yet I swear that those initial couple of sips of its robust aroma and brawny taste gave me a caffeine hit seldom experience on the lowlands, if at all.<br />
<br />
Perhaps because there were no distractions (no put-putting from the endless tricyles plying the streets, no ringing phones) so all my senses were focused on that exalted brew and its welcome warmth. I was in tune with the universe! Elated and contended. And it dawned on me [no pun intended] this was the kind of peace that Mount Malindig bestows for those who seek refuge in her slopes. The hot brew (and an extra layer of wool sweater) made the biting dawn breeze near the summit more acceptable.<br />
<br />
It allowed me to enjoy the rest of this glorious dawn literally on top of Marinduque, the sweet anticipation of light changing from dark to dawn amidst a rising cacophony of cheery tweeting and unbridled hooting of wildlife (May God and man protect you from extinction) in full surround sound, far more superior to Dolby or THX 3D audio systems.<br />
<br />
Dawned finally broke the vague darkness; I began to see my perspective in a different light.<br />
<br />
It was then that I promised myself that someday, I will do something to immortalize this blissful island, one way or another, I will pay her back for all the wonderful stuff she have given us through all these years.<br />
<br />
When the opportune window showed itself, I reminded myself of that promise on the hallowed slopes of Mt. Malindig: Time to turn my fumblin' second thoughts to a first-rate dream.<br />
<br />
That dream is now a book...<br />
<br />
Because “Marinduque deserves a niche in the altar of the stars.” (Quotation from “Marinduque – The Heart of the Philippines” Coffee Table Book; Author – Dindo Asuncion)<br />
<br />
<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ex4mUJX1VP4/TAh--x1x_zI/AAAAAAAAACs/b11MY7QKveg/s1600/opti+malindig+western+view.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ex4mUJX1VP4/TAh--x1x_zI/AAAAAAAAACs/b11MY7QKveg/s320/opti+malindig+western+view.jpg" /></a></div>
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<br />
Malindig's Western Slopes<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">(Photo by Author, commissioned by</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"> www.chiptalk.com.ph, used with permission)</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7366887647872181557.post-66688578283347737982007-06-07T20:55:00.000+08:002010-06-07T21:10:17.416+08:00Home<ul><li>Behind the scene flashbacks, retropects on the writing and creation stages of the coffee-table book "Marinduque - The Heart of the Philippines." </li>
</ul><ul><li>Footnotes that failed to land on the book due to space limitations.</li>
</ul><ul><li>Fleeting thoughts, random ideas, flashes of madness captured while a possessed mind flies... and plays.</li>
</ul><ul><li>About nothing, something, anything.</li>
</ul>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0