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Broadstairs Day with Daniella

I was looking through all the photos I’ve accumulated over the last few weeks (months, really) and before I become even more helplessly buried under this avalanche, I shall begin posting them in increments, out of order, which is how memory works sometimes anyway. Lots of things have happened recently, but let me rewind back to a day in August in which England was sunny; in which Daniella and I actually woke up on time and made our way to a beach in Kent; in which all we did was talk and bask and swim and eat.

It was a nice discovery that there are beaches that are just about an hour away from London by train. They do not hold a candle to the beaches in the Philippines (and, I’m sure, to the ones in Greece where Dani grew up), but it was nice to be by saltwater in the sun.

If you told me a year ago that I would be somewhere in the North Sea, floating in the water like a starfish, eating gelato and calamari, drinking semi-warm tequila-laced beer and G&Ts, I probably wouldn’t have believed it.






Probably.







Back in London, we ate breakfast for supper behind a really nice, really earnest (read: emo) installation by Tracey Emin, who turns out is a Tory, which makes me feel a little sad, which I guess is fitting, considering how her work makes me feel.

On the way home, I read a bit of Lavinia Greenlaw’s “The Importance of Music to Girls,” which I still haven’t finished, but — and I could be wrong — I feel like there’s still a bit of time.

Motion sickness

Currently on a train to Edinburgh, which seems to be a funny place to sort of find the only time you can sit down and think. Last week, my dad and sister arrived from Manila — presumably to visit me, but also they have timed their holiday, fortuitously, with the Wimbledon matches this year — and that coincided with the end of my first year at uni, for which I had to write an essay, which took up most of the time of the weeks leading up to it.

(Unnecessarily long lead-up, but basically I have been busy with school and fambly time and so, the train ride it is.)

I first flew in on the 10th of October, but am done with my first year of school, which is a little weird (for some reason), but here we are. We handed our third essay for the year on the 18th and met up for drinks after. An England match was on and the pub we were in erupted in celebrations when “we” won. So, uh, so did we, but I suppose for different reasons.


RELIEF! FRESHLY SHOWERED! READY TO GET SMASHED!

(If anyone was interested in reading my Unit I essay, which is my favourite one of the three I wrote, I uploaded it here. And like… it’s not super good, but I got okay marks on it, so it’s like 🤷‍♀️ but also, I’m 🎉🎉🎉

It’s about decolonisation and linguistics and deconstruction and Martha Atienza and ati-atihan… essentially.)

Zaxx came over my house yesterday (I did three loads of laundry and said hi to my plants and housemates), and she asked me if I felt smarter, and although I would have usually waffled and hemmed and hawed, my answer this time was an unequivocal “yes.” Because I do feel smarter, but whether it’s the kind of smart that’s useful or not, that’s still up for debate, haha.

Anyway, I was in a not-so-good place in the weeks leading up to summer. Basically, I was a useless lump that couldn’t be bothered to do anything other than the bare minimum, but was somehow roused from that when Isa and Crae came for a visit.

And, also, seeing Rostam perform and him opening and closing with “Don’t Let It Get to You,” which I was so glad I showed up for because I was thinking of flaking… on plans with myself.

To be honest, I am convinced more and more that depressive episodes are really cyclical, and although medication helps to manage it, there is a a possibility that it will never go away. Soooo I think I’ve learned how to sort of come to terms with that (and spoke a bit about it here, thanks to Gabbie) and just ride things out. I think that learning that you can resurface has helped me manage my stupid fucking headspace when it gets annoying and suffocating.

Isa and Crae have returned to Manila and my dad and sister are here for about two more weeks. I still feel a little bit untethered… but I think I’m breathing a little better, so that’s something.

So, I’ve taken my family around a fair bit. We’ve gone around West, East, South East, and even Brighton, and now on the way to Edinburgh. We’ve still got a few places to tick off, but I think we’ve covered pretty good ground.

The first book I finished reading after all of my research reading was John Berger’s “Hold Everything Dear,” which was beautiful (as usual) and timely (even though it was written more than a decade ago; which is like… depressing, a bit, since the world is still where it is, or possibly even in a worse place) and also still the kind of writing I wish I could do. I feel selfish a lot of the time… or more like self-centered and navel-gaze-y. Which, to be honest, isn’t much different from how I feel like I was prior to my move.

But my point is that Berger makes it feel like it’s possible to comment on current events and important things with a specificity and a perspective that doesn’t teeter on self-centeredness. And it feels important and compassionate and right. And I’d like to write like that, someday, I think. (My brain is too noisy or too quiet and it doesn’t feel like I have anything to say, really.) I’m happy that I get to read what he has to say, though. He’s written so much, but it also never feels like there’s quite enough of it to go around.

I was happy in the city

I think I mess up with updating this thing when I think about how the posts should come up chronologically, and honestly, it probably doesn’t have to. I don’t care, you don’t care. We’re all just plodding along life, as it were.

Like, I don’t think I want to keep writing in this if it’s going to just be a litany of posts that go “Oh, yeah, and this happened,” you know? Sometimes I think that I’ve forgotten how to think, which is silly, but entirely possible. If you asked me what I did the day before yesterday, I’m not sure I’d really know what to tell you.

(I paused and thought about it, and I did laundry and went to class, which was about Judith Butler and feminism and gender and materialism, which was amazing, but also disappointing because not a single male classmate showed up. Which, I understand, has more to do with the level of Other Things they had to do than, like, a statement or whatever. But still.)

Today, however, is a Thursday. And I went to help out at the VE studio, which is what I do on most Thursdays, and it was nice because they told me how helpful it was when I’m around and that I smelled nice and that my lipstick was nice. It was also nice (!) that I had a bowl that I always “build” and get when I’m here (brown rice, tomatoes, kale, red onion + tahini) and that I’ve been thinking about for a while, since I, in theory, can only get it on Thursdays. It was also nice because there was a labrador on my train here (it got off at Paddington station) and also because there was a pug (named Osc/kar?) in the studio, who was vacuuming the floor with his snout but also let me pet him.

I think I’ve mostly been thinking about where I fit in the world, a little bit. Which sounds a little ridiculous? Like a vague, pa-deep/pa-profound thought plopped in the middle of a running list of mundane everyday things, but really, that’s where I am situated most of the time, I think. Not a bad place to be, just a little anxious about trying to lasso in all the disparate pieces that I feel like I’m holding onto.

I’ve been really distressed about it. So much so that I wrote to St. Vincent about it, appealing for an answer, Libra to Libra. (It’s a thing, I’m not crazy.) I guess part of me knows that I don’t have to know, but also part of me is a super controlling freak who has to know exactly what is going on, just because.


A) Packaged coconut… super sad. B) Me, dressed not like a 12-year-old. For once!

But I guess it’s also a bit silly to treat the situation as though, if I know or find out, then I’d be at peace and know what to do. Because I know that’s not true. Maybe it would be actually a little more damaging to know where you’re at but not have any control over it. And I say maybe, but I know that that’s what’s going to happen. Knowing you don’t have any control over something you’re worried about doesn’t mean you stop worrying about it.

So maybe, this place of obliviousness is a good thing? IDK. I think I’m just trying to sort through life stuff as they come… and I think I’m not doing a very good job… but I also think that maybe not a lot of us are. And that sounds sad, but I think I’m at a point where I’m ready to take a little bit of comfort in that.


P.S. Happy Pride from our laundry line 💘

Hi from Londontown

It’s been about six and a half months since I moved here1 (although, I suppose I mean closer to five months and a quarter, since I flew home for nearly three weeks over Easter break) and I haven’t said shit except to round up a few of my favourite things from last year. Is there a reason for this other than laziness and busy-ness? Probably not.

I realised, too, that I do tend to equate the lack of “productivity” with laziness, which isn’t a good idea now that I’ve become much less sedentary than before. I am so tired all the time, but I still don’t think I do enough. Isn’t that weird? Having down time doesn’t mean you’re lazy, you knob. But at the same time, there is always something to be done, it feels like.

For the record, I am in the middle of a research masters in the general field of art, theory, and philosophy. It sounds daunting and useless (i.e. impractical, etc.)… and it is. I have been having a trying time reading the assigned texts and trying to parse everything and thinking of the theories, but I am also having—in the words of Angela Chase—A Time. A general question that people have been asking has to do with my plans after the research masters (and potential PhD, we’ll see), and I mean, that’s an understandable curiosity. But I don’t think that these avenues are really a step towards anything more practical, and most people just pursue them because they have insatiable curiosity (a.k.a. an obsessive tendency that can’t quite be tamped down). And, I realised that further studies, especially in arts and humanities, is sometimes a thing to do for itself, and not necessarily as a stepping stone for something that is a) well-paid, or b) “useful,” in the apocalyptic sense of the word. Let’s just say that if a zombie attack does happen at some point in the near future, academics are the last people you’d want on your team. Maybe. Who knows? When the world is in shambles because of zombies, let me die in a book club, honestly.


They let us do something at the Tate, if you can believe that.

Right now, I am actually probably the busiest I’ve ever been, but in the midst of the flurry of activity, I feel both a) super fucking tired, and b) more or less energised. I think I prefer this feeling over that of purposeless aimlessness (with a sprinkling of restlessness and the lack of desire to accomplish anything), which was more or less my default setting for a while.

Aside from school, I’ve been juggling some personal work (because I gotta earn dem monies), a book club (because I’m pretty fucking stupid with no sense of time and also because I’ve been meaning to read Proust anyway), a move (to an actual house! I can’t wait?), another class I signed up for (because why not), interning with some of my heroes (!!!), some health issues (hahaha), and a lot of other things I’ve decided I can’t say “no” to. Suffice to say, I sometimes feel like I am drowning, to be honest, but again, this feels more like something I’d elect for myself rather than those periods where I can’t bring myself to get out of bed. Which, embarrassingly enough, has happened to me for days on end. Even here, where I’ve been the happiest I’ve been in a long time.

It’s not that lonely, although of course that doesn’t mean I don’t miss people and doggos and bidets/esperesso machines from home. I think I’ve always needed to go away to sort of find my footing. It’s a place of privilege, sure, but I haven’t felt like myself in a real long while, and despite a lot of issues surrounding this admittedly massive move, it feels really good, and I’m so happy I came here.

———
1 In case it’s not gleanable from the title, “here” is London. Yep.

A top (x) list of consumed media from 2017

That is… a gross title, but here we are. I haven’t been around on here (obviously) but I figured I’d ease into it a little bit by writing about things that are easier to write, i.e. lists of things I enjoyed as opposed to a check-in, i.e. how am I, how am I, which is what my family is probably going to appreciate more. But we’re not having that today.

Because my memory is kind of gone, also, this is probably not an accurate list. I’ll likely see something I want to edit out, etc. two seconds after publishing, but such is life.


Julien Baker at Union Chapel, London

Albums

Once upon a time, Brand New’s Science Fiction had a sure spot on this list. If you’re not familiar with the emo news circuit — which, who is anymore? — Jesse Lacey was accused (and admitted to with a… sorta apology/non-apology) of sexual abuse of a minor when he was 24 years old¹. So, yes. Everything I feel about Brand New is in shambles (but I don’t want to get into that right now—I am now a master of deflection); here’s a better (I think?) list:

  1. Julien Baker’s Turn Out the Lights — gives shape to all your deep-buried sorrows, brings them to the surface, and reassures that darkness can co-exist with light
  2. The National’s Sleep Well Beast — Matt Berninger whisper-sings intimations of a life flashing before your eyes, sometimes out of order
  3. Phoebe Bridgers’ Stranger in the Alps — melancholy mountain music to put on whilst on the tube, thinking about mortality and how you got to where you are
  4. Rostam’s Half-Light — it’s like resurfacing from being submerged in a lake to warmth and the sun in your eyes
  5. Lorde’s Melodrama — post-hedonism sadness with no regret, set to music you can’t help but dance to
  6. Sorority Noise’s You’re Not As _____ As You Think — honest and open; unlikely lifeline for when you are edging closer to the edge
  7. Jay Som’s Everybody Works — warm, easy music for languid summer drives or day-time lounging
  8. Vagabon’s Infinite Worlds — so far, my favourite winter blanket
  9. Japanese Breakfast’s Soft Sounds from Another Planet — somehow makes you want to play the guitar?
  10. Waxahatchee’s Out in the Storm — sounds like the cool girl you’ve (I’ve) always wanted to be

Other notables: Wolf Parade’s Cry Cry Cry, Sufjan Stevens’ The Greatest Gift, Big Thief’s Capacity, Alvvays’ Anti-Socialites, St. Vincent’s Masseduction, Molly Burch’s Please Be Mine, Paramore’s After Laughter, and Harry Styles’ self-titled debut.

EDIT: … As predicted, a late addition: Courtney Barnett and Kurt Vile’s Lotta Sea Lice is also really good.

Books

I read a lot this year, especially towards the end… but I didn’t read a lot of books in full. Here are the ones I really liked, out of the 19 I finished as of writing. Not all of them were published in 2017, so… uh, sorry about that.

  1. A City Inside by Tillie Walden
  2. Confabulations by John Berger
  3. 300 Arguments by Sarah Manguso
  4. All the Lives I Want by Alana Massey
  5. True Stories by Sophie Calle
  6. So Sad Today by Melissa Broder

* Complete list of finished titles can be found here.


from Thelma

Movies

Movies, I find hard to track because I don’t… keep track, haha. But in (very) recent memory, the films released this year that I thoroughly enjoyed are Lady Bird (Greta Gerwig), heartwarming coming-of-age and Very Much My Jam; Call Me By Your Name (Luca Guadagnino), the very beautiful cause of many sleepless nights spent lying in residual want; Don’t Break Down (Tim Irwin and Keith Schieron), exhilarating and sad (?) Jawbreaker documentary that awakened a latent crush on Blake Schwarzenbach which thankfully went away; and Thelma (Joachim Trier), beautiful and mysterious with large spaces of quiet meant to keep your feelings expanding.

Very sure I’m forgetting like… a lot, but other fun films I enjoyed watching were Spider-man: Homecoming, Kong: Skull Island, and Star Wars: The Last Jedi.

Television

I basically subsisted on television this year, but here are my favourite 2017 releases (in no particular order).

  1. Insecure season 2
  2. Easy season 2
  3. BoJack Horseman season 4
  4. American Vandal
  5. The Bold Type
  6. Alias Grace
  7. The Americans season 5
  8. Master of None, season 2
  9. Star Trek: Discovery
  10. Grace and Frankie season 3
  11. The Good Place season 2A
  12. Teen Wolf season 6B
  13. One Day at a Time
  14. Halt and Catch Fire season 4

EDIT: Also enjoying Runaways a lot!


Bruce Nauman

Art shows or pieces

(In no particular order, and excludes shows I or my family was part of because, well… those are a very not impartial given.)

  1. Nan Goldin’s The Ballad of Sexual Dependency at the MoMA, New York
  2. Bruce Conners’s “Crossroads” from Dreamlands: Immersive Cinema and Art, 1905–2016 at the Whitney, New York
  3. Mariano Ching and Yasmin Sison’s Traveling on the Edges of Lost Maps at MO_Space, Manila
  4. D, a group show curated by Gary-Ross Pastrana at Vinyl on Vinyl, Manila
  5. Elaine Navas’s Nothing Moves Itself at Artinformal, Manila
  6. Nilo Ilarde’s Fools of the Trade at Artinformal, Manila
  7. Arthur Jafa’s Love is the Message, the Message is Death at Store Studios (co-presented by the Serpentine Galleries and The Vinyl Factory), London
  8. TJ Wilcox’s Gentlemen at Sadie Coles, London
  9. Artist Rooms: Bruce Nauman at Tate Modern, London
  10. Artist Rooms: Joseph Beuys at Tate Modern, London
  11. Marie Harnett’s Still at Alan Cristea Gallery, London
  12. Bernardo Pacquing at Silverlens Galleries, Manila
  13. Wade Guyton: Das New Yorker Atelier, Abridged at the Serpentine Galleries, London
  14. Basquiat: Boom for Real at the Barbican Art Gallery, London

Let me know if you want to know more about a particular thing, but I’m sure people on Google can better help you out with that. What are your favourites from this year?

———
¹ I was supposed to see them in London, mid-November, but news broke out just a few days before, which led to them cancelling their show. I got my money from the (scalped) ticket refund, and although I feel kind of bad that I never got to see them, I think my heart would have shattered even more if I saw them play and then found out about the abuse.

Featured image from TJ Wilcox’s Gentlemem