Blues...Across the Universe

Words are flowing out like endless rain into a paper cup,
They slither wildly as they slip away across the universe
Pools of sorrow, waves of joy are drifting through my open mind,
Possessing and caressing me.
Images of broken light which dance before me like a million eyes,
They call me on and on across the universe,
Thoughts meander like a restless wind inside a letter box
They tumble blindly as they make their way
Across the universe
Sounds of laughter shades of love are
Ringing through my open ears inciting and inviting me
Limitless undying love which shines around me like a
Million suns, and calls me on and on
Across the universe...

~ John Lennon

 

Join us @ Our World Tuesday
 Water World-Wednesday

NF Waters

Wet sunset

@ mirandablue

We are in the middle of a wet summer.  Just this past weekend, many areas were flooded because of a tropical storm.  Last week,  I was caught in a rainstorm with two cousins while we were driving back to Miranda.  The rain finally stopped while we were approaching the coast.  I asked Mark to stop and took photos of this mellow sunset.  This is looking towards Guimaras Strait.

@ mirandablue

Posted for Sky-Watch Friday

Alaala [Memory, Remembrance]

@ mirandablue

Maraming masaya at magandang alaala ang lugar na ito sa akin.  Alaala ng aking kabataan kasama si Lola, ang aking mga kapatid at pinsan.  Kabatwan ang tawag namin dito no'ng bata pa kami dahil nga mabato ang dalampasigan, at sa likod ng mga puno nandon ang naghahalikang bato o Kissing Rocks---paboritong tagpuan ng mga magsin-irog.  Ito ang baywalk ng aking kabataan.  Noong 2009 lang ako nakabalik ulit dito pagkatapos ng mahigit dalawang dekada.

Posted for Litratong Pinoy

@ mirandablue

I have happy and beautiful memories of this place.  Memories of my youth with our grandmother, my siblings and cousins.  We called this place kabatwan because of the rocky shore, and behind the trees are the kissing rocks---a favorite rendezvous for young lovers.  This was the baywalk of my childhood.  I've never returned to this place for more than two decades until in 2009 after we buried our grandmother.  

This song is perfect for reminiscing.

For Thursday Two Questions - you are invited to answer and join.

1)  What song comes to mind when you think about your childhood?

2)  Any special childhood memory you'd like to share?

Rocky [Watery & Outdoor Wednesday]

The truth is that our finest moments are most likely to occur when we are feeling deeply uncomfortable, unhappy, or unfulfilled. For it is only in such moments, propelled by our discomfort, that we are likely to step out of our ruts and start searching for different ways or truer answers.

~ M. Scott Peck

my cousin, Mark, looking out at Guimaras Strait

Posted for Watery Wednesday and Outdoor Wednesday

Of fishing and fishermen... [WW and OW]

Fishing is not a job,

To most pliers of our trade,
We are caught up in sirens' songs,
That we do not seek to evade.

Circe and Calypso
Are sirens marvelous to behold,
And though they greet us every day,
There's no hint of growing old. 

Circe is the newborn sun, 
   That hails us every day, 
   While Calypso is the oceanic arena 
   Upon which we play. 
 
   Calypso is such a beautiful mistress, 
   Though she is sometimes exceedingly cruel, 
   But most of the time is quite benign, 
   So we live by this inconstant rule. 

What is it that defines a fisherman? 
   Is there a rule that sets us apart? 
   The answer's straightforward and simple, 
   For us fishing's an affair of the heart. 

~ from "Travails of the Modern Fisherman"

Posted for Watery Wednesday and Outdoor Wednesday

Nostalgia [OWM & WS]

There is nothing special about this beach, in fact, I've never been here for almost two decades. But that weekend after we buried our grandmother, my siblings, cousins and I, had a sentimental yearning to see the beach of our childhood. This is where we frolicked during summer vacations, learned how to swim, chased hermit crabs, watched sunsets and dreamed of the world beyond Guimaras Strait. This stretch of seashore was our playground, from the Kissing Rocks to this rustic resort. Nothing has changed around here except for a wider beach erosion, and the owner as well as the nipa huts got older. The simplicity of life here is achingly sweet and familiar.

stroll to Kissing Rocks

the old Talisay is still standing

my cousins talking about the good ol' days

Posted for Our Weekend Memoirs and Weekend Snapshot

About a boy

They call you Badjao--

but you said your name
is Michael Jackson

but I know you

you are
mud-puddle-splashing and
secret-fort-building and
living-room-floor-wrestling and
sometimes even sweet-sibling-hugging

you are

coated with dirt

of boyhood play

matter-of-factly

you said you're handsome, brave

and fair---

and what else?

the brightest boy around here

in your dreams
you are
a cowboy, a fireman,
a tricycle driver,
an astronaut,
and yes,

Michael Jackson
in boxing gloves

you are

a charmer--

born to conquer the seas,

explore the plains,

and climb the trees

and yes,
i must admit
you moonwalk with a grace
Michael Jackson has a new face

Posted for Watery Wednesday and Outdoor Wednesday             

                                                                                                                                                   

Take me fishing

I wondered if this man was fishing for fish or just wanted to enjoy some peace and quiet at the Kissing Rocks on Monday morning. I've always admired the patience of fishermen, although I still haven't fully appreciated the joys of fishing. I understand the bonding opportunities fishing present, especially between father and son. Children, I believe, who love to fish would develop a lifelong love for the outdoors, not to mention acquiring the virtue of patience---a necessity for a happy existence.

The charm of fishing is that it is the pursuit of what is elusive but attainable, a perpetual series of occasions for hope. ~ John Buchan

Posted for Outdoor Wednesday and Watery Wednesday

A boy in red - Ruby Tuesday

A boy in red and his comrades hanging out at the Kissing Rocks, a rocky tip of a cove in my hometown.

Posted for Ruby Tuesday

Kissing Rocks - Watery Wednesday

This place was our playground when we were kids---a small rocky tip of a cove locals call "kabatuan". In my teenage years, I heard people call this place "Kissing Rocks", referring to two huge rocks behind the mangrove that moved closer through years of wave action. But my friends and I credited the name to the fact that lovers rendezvoused at these rocks before sunset. I returned to this place on Monday morning with my siblings and cousins to reminisce the countless summers our grandmother brought us here. We buried our grandmother, Lola Fanny, on Sunday afternoon. She was 97.

Posted for Watery Wednesday

The next generation

Jaysel and Kyle

Children are fascinating creatures. They have the natural enthusiasm and exuberance to learn, ask endless questions, wonder, figure things out, imagine, investigate, and construct. I sometimes wonder why most adults have lost these traits, or perhaps we’re just masters at pretending we’re grown-ups. Because beneath my skin, I am never as wise or as sure or as strong as I want to convince myself and others that I am.

Spending time with my nephews and nieces taught me a number of things---like, how much patience I have, and how to answer questions like “What does the chicken say?” and “Why is the water wet?”. A friend loves to remind me that children are a great comfort in our old age---they also help us reach it faster. :D

Jan a.k.a. Badjao with Kuya Kyle

Yan-Yan with Jaysel

batang city-jail :D

he loves to pose for the camera

Dyme, da burdagul

ouch!

no pain, no gain

the very inquisitive Angela


Eunice, the sad-faced angel

Badjao's big smile

Turks with mommy Antonette

he thought we were going somewhere

"The day the child realizes that all adults are imperfect, he becomes an adolescent; the day he forgives them, he becomes an adult; the day he forgives himself, he becomes wise."