The Art of Lavina Marie: 2011

Merry Merry Christmas to you all!! :D Just recently, in celebration of my parents' 29th anniversary, my family and I took an overnight trip to Bataan, specifically to a resort named Las Casas Filipinas de Acuzar. The resort, still in the process of completion, is a fantastic collection of 18th century Spanish-style houses, true replicas of structures found scattered across the archipelago.

The place is about four to five hours away from Manila; we left the morning of the 18th and arrived at the resort in time for lunch. The journey itself was incredible; the Philippines has such a beautiful countryside, it's amazing to think that such greenery exists when you've only known city lights.

The lahars of Mt. Pinatubo; my first time to ever see volcanic lava!

Mt. Samat and the Memorial Cross, built to commemorate the soldiers of the Battle of Bataan

Bataan is one of the Philippines' more memorable provinces; it holds itself as the site of the Death March, an event that took place after the Battle in 1942 involving thousands of American and FIlipino prisoners marching 60 miles (97 km), during which many died of starvation, exhaustion, and physical abuse by Japanese forces. Going along the grassy roads of Bataan, this did not occur to me until I saw signs indicating memorials. It was like stepping through time altogether, for Bataan is a simple province characterized by rice fields, stray chickens (one actually attempted to cross the road but retreated when it saw our incoming car), and one-storey houses (and the occasional McDonald's).

Approaching the gates of Las Casas completed the time travel; we were met with security guards decked in traditional outfits, and scurrying female employees draped in mestizo costumes. We checked in as soon as we arrived at the resort's quaint office, and then, after a heavy lunch and a few hours' rest, proceeded with a guided tour of the place:

The 'concierge' office

The calesa that took us from the restaurant to our house

View of the square; spot the security guard!

Our tour guide

The resort is named after the architect Reuben Acuzar, whose journey to find precisely such antiquated houses has inspired him to bring some of the more notable ones into one location in Bataan romantically situated by the sea. Most of the houses boast actual materials from their original structures, like creaky wooden staircases and old capiz windows; funny though, amidst the antique furniture you'll suddenly see a flat-screen TV or a split-type AC... it's literally like living in the past with the benefits of the future, haha!

The 2nd-floor living room (our family occupied an entire house)

More pictures of various parts of the place:

A miniature sculpture my dad and I spotted in front of the office

Modeled after one of the school buildings of the University of the Philippines

The panorama feature of my camera was perfect for the occasion; this looks like a pretty
banner or bookmark actually!

The bridge connecting the resort to the beach; it has carved on one side sculptures
of manananggal and tikbalang (two Philippine mythological creatures); soo creepy!

View from the bridge overlooking the artificial river, a house where someone or the other was murdered,
and the edge of the swimming pool (to the right)

Sunset!

After the tour we took a hearty Filipino dinner, and then we were off to bed - which I was a bit hesitant for, because of the mirror of the gigantic aparador in front of my bed; I just draped my mom's shawl over it so I wouldn't have to wake up and see something other than my reflection, haha! :P

On the morning before we headed back out to Manila, while the rest of the family went to scout the beach, I took the chance to sketch one of the houses:

And then we were on the road again, back through the greenery and into the noisy hurly-burly of Metro Manila.

It was an incredible experience all in all; if you get the chance, do visit Las Casas. For more information, visit their website here. :)

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Last week, I was blessed with the opportunity to attend a private get-together with Pulitzer Prize winner Edward P. Jones, an African-American author who has so far penned only three books but each has already set his writing career in stone. One in particular, The Known World, which nabbed for Jones the renowned Pulitzer, is a novel centered on the concept of black people owning black slaves. For the get-together, I was only able to read his anthology of short stories entitled All Aunt Hagar's Children (those invited were advised to read his works in order to pose questions, and we were each given a copy of one of his books, for free; I was astounded, because the anthology I received costs around P995 in National Bookstore - in all its matte, hardbound glory). I wasn't able to finish reading the novel, but what I read displays such an interesting style that reflects Southern American culture.

We were less than twenty in all at the get-together, a mixture of students and professors along with the author and his American guide, as well as Tony Perez, a Filipino author whose name I only came to hear within the confines of the dining room/ conference room where the get-together was held. I have to say, though, being in the presence of a Pulitzer Prize winner is absolutely unnerving; like I'm shaking hands with a senator for literature. I admit, though, I never heard of Edward Jones until I received the invitation to meet him, and neither did a lot of my classmates.

Understandable, really, given Mr. Jones' unexpectedly lethargic character.

It was amusing: his apparent brilliance for writing (he never experiences writer's block, nor does he care much about what people will think or expect of his work) is so natural to him, that he responds to questions in a nonchalant manner. A person asked him, for instance, whether the names he used in his novel (like Moses and Alice) were meaningful in any way and perhaps referential to famous religious or fictional figures (like biblical Moses and Wonderland's Alice), to which he replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world: "Oh, most of those names were picked at random."
It was fun asking him questions, though. I learned, in a nutshell, that:

Before you write, you must have an ending already;
The title is the least important thing (revelation!!);
Adjectives and adverbs are not necessary to create emotion, and;
Just chill, relax; it'll come to you.

Edward P. Jones was one of the authors featured during the second Manila International Literary Festival last November 16 to 18, celebrated at Ayala Museum, which my aunt was able to attend. She found Mr. Jones rather lackadaisical as well, but she was able to meet a handful of interesting authors, and one she happened to chance an encounter with was Budjette Tan, the storywriter of one my favorite graphic novel series: Trese.

Trese, set in contemporary Manila, revolves around the supernatural investigator Alexandra Trese, whose cases take her to the very depths of the Philippine paranormal world. It's such a good read!

I started reading Trese about a year ago, and I've been in love with it ever since. Budjette Tan's ideas are so fantastic, that, coupled with the crisp art of Kajo Baldisimo, your imagination is drastically tampered with (and your knowledge increases as well; I know more about Philippine folklore than I did before). I've never read Mr. Tan's other works, but you can see some of his hair-raising history in Trese. My aunt relayed that, as a baby, Mr. Tan was once unknowingly possessed by the spirit of an old man; and today, he writes his supernatural works in public places like Starbucks in order to avoid certain unwanted presences invading his working space. So scary!

I suppose I can attribute to his past experiences the fact that the storyline of Trese never fails to thrill me. I should really take the time to read his other literary works, however; I already fell into a positively giddy state after I was able to find and contact him through his DeviantArt site; he even graciously took the time to look through my own portfolio and drop a comment on one of my artworks.

Then yesterday, lo and behold, my aunt presents me with a signed copy of the first Trese installment, addressed to me!!

I hope I can meet him myself in person some day; since one of my goals is to publish something penned in my own hand, I'd love to be able to hear some ideas from him.

With that I conclude this rather lengthy blog post. I hope you have a pleasant day, dear reader!

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In my freshman year of college, I applied with all the unbridled excitement of a little girl graced with the presence of a beautiful new Barbie for membership in the only art organization of the time, charmingly named Mostra d'Arte (the meaning of which still eludes me until now, when the organization sadly no longer exists). Orientation was immediate and quick: under the guidance of a lanky, quirky upperclassman, I was briefed on the org's basic workings and objectives; and already an event was waiting for my involvement. (But I suppose I should admit that I never really did assist in the event, or in any of the subsequent events. Lack of time and transport hindered my participation, and it wasn't long before the organization dissipated. I'm itching to bring it back.)

Of course, before I was to actually place my hands on anything, I had to be acquainted with the org's members - founders and freshies alike. On the day that my guide introduced my timid self to a few of them, I was unnerved and amazed to find myself before a person I'd previously only known by name, a name that took a long moment to register in my ears when my guide voiced it in the direction of a pretty, long-haired girl.

I'd seen Valerie Chua's name embellish the electronic walls of DeviantArt, a site I'd joined only months before entering college. On the site, however, her real name was secondary to her username 'green-tea', which I came to associate with her lovely paintings, and which all flashed before me as I gaped at her in person.

Song of a Bird [which became a 'Daily Deviation']

I believe that meeting was the only time I ever spoke to her - until, that is, a year or so later, when I happened to discover that she and my boyfriend were relatively in the same circle of friends. It was then that I had the pleasure of viewing her first exhibit as a member of The Ambassadors of the Philippine Brand, for which she'd painted colorful portraits of Lea Salonga and Tony Meloto, the founder of Gawad Kalinga ('to give care').

But it was only very recently we engaged in actual conversation; and although I admit I still don't know her that well (other than that we share a similar fondness for girly things), I must say she's such an interesting person: quiet, as her blog title suggests, but absolutely amiable. Not to mention, her works, her watercolor illustrations in particular, have evolved magnificently over the years, elevating her to heights that I can only hope some day to reach. Now she's a freelance illustrator feverishly sought after by several local agencies, and has been featured on an international basis. These are some of my favorite artworks of hers, taken from her Facebook page:

On November 23, 2011, she is to host her first solo exhibit - so exciting! Details can be found on the promotional poster above (just click to enlarge); do take the time to drop by her wonderful backyard of art.

P.S. Val, thanks for letting me blog about you, it's such a pleasure knowing you. :)

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One of my dearest friends recently introduced me to the work of Rima Staines, a true-blue bonafide gypsy; she actually traveled for a year and a day in a house on wheels (it's so much fun to picture it!), exploring the world and 'the otherness that can be found on the periphery of our lives, the strange and grotesque, the absurd and unnerving... that topsy turvy in between place where things are not quite what they seem...' (Staines) Finally settled in a little cottage at Dartmoor (a little moorland in south Devon, England), she continues to this day to paint her daily thoughts and experiences, embellishing them with fanciful verbal descriptions reminiscent of ancient folktales. Her style is so magical, like it captures the very heart and soul of the other worlds; and being a lover of all things faerie, I am absolutely captivated by her works.

Miss Staines' current online lodging, whimsically named The Hermitage, is a fantastical collection of her works, most of which are based on nature; just look at her header!

Wood seems to be her favorite material for her paintings; in addition, Miss Staines also fashions clocks from barks of wood, clocks that she collectively calls the 'Once Upon O'Clock'. Here are some of her works:

These Words

Anja in the Horse Chestnut

Hummingbird Clock

Wheels on Houses are the best things. Here's one I made.
Inside is a tale about a king who journeys to find What Really Matters.
As the wheels turn, they move wooden cogs underneath
which in turn turn the scroll inside and
the words of the tale move past the windows.

I can't even begin to imagine how Rima Staines views the world; she's virtually the embodiment of the fairytale... and I thought I was in tune with the preternatural. In the real live art world, though, Miss Staines is already quite well known; she receives several commissions and has even made mini-animations of her works. The images I have here are from her blog and her Etsy shop; do drop by the Hermitage, it'll be worth it! :)

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