At Campo 4, Talisay.
Rappellling off a bridge. Not that high. Just learning the how-to's.
Did this six weeks ago. I can't remember much of the details.

Before this photo was taken, that yellow multicab attempted to cross the river but got stuck along the way. The water was deeper than they thought. A dump truck had to pull it out.

ropes, harnesses, carabiners, gloves

  • When a carabiner is dropped, it's considered broken even when it still looks usable. There could be small cracks inside of it. You cannot throw it away though coz someone might pick it up and use it. You can either keep it (but not use it), or have it x-rayed. The latter is too much of a hassle for a very small thing so they suggest to just attach it to your chest when you get a chest x-ray. XD
  • You must not step on ropes. Rocks and glass from the ground or your shoes could get inside the rope and eventually cut the fibers.
  • There are hundreds of ways to tie a knot.
  • Just do it.
There were a couple more stuff (and terms) that I learned. I just cannot remember any more.

Not that high. Even if you fall you'd still be alive but with a couple of scratches and bruises.

A few cyclists passed (and some stopped) by.  

Notebook Collection

"I collect all sorts of things: coins, buttons, frogs, leaves. Anything but one. Husbands." - my high school crafts club coordinator.

I don't know what it is with collecting stuff but I love doing it anyway.


I've had this for a couple of years now but it's still small. I can't find my other notebooks. I think they're trapped somewhere under heaps of dust waiting for sunlight.

They're like my happy food. Just last week after our exams I went to La Belle Aurore just to buy notebooks but they ran out of good ones so I ended up taking some sheets of paper with me for free. Well, it's sheets of papers that make up a notebook so it's pretty close to the real thing.

I got a couple of notebooks spending an eternity on the shelves just waiting to be opened. I don't intend to use all of the ones I have. Sometimes I just buy them because they're so cute I have to put them on my shelf and call it mine.

Some of them lovelies:

The smaller notebooks on this photo are the ones I often bring with me anywhere to draw or write stuff onto. Trees, leaves, clouds, poems, rants, lists.

Handmade notebooks I got from Dan. I came across his travel sketch blog (now moved to a new one) while searching for Budlaan on google. He had this static post about giving away these notebooks for free, as well as some postcards, sketch pads and his own artworks. I also got to meet his wife, Kikit, albeit briefly. Check out her blog. :)

Two of the notebooks which I think I will never use. Their pages are too cute to mess with.

I'm a sucker for brown stuff. The tiny one on the left is filled with sketches (also from Dan).

I got too many extra notebooks I couldn't figure out what to do with them so I came up with a Birthday Diary. Every year on my birthday I write down how my day has been and post a picture or two. So cheesy, I know. It just had its 5th entry last month. 

More addicts here.

What do you collect?

Taking Photos For Strangers

This post is a kickoff to my Talk With Strangers series. I've had this blog running for 3 years now and I still haven't told you about my encounters with them. The first few posts will be nothing specific of a particular stranger. I'll save that for later.

. . .

A very good friend of mine, Golda, gave me a gift a few years ago which contained some to-do things each written on a piece of paper. There were probably a hundred. All of them were doable: memorize your favorite poem, say "hello" first, watch a sunrise (I still haven't done this yet).

One of my favorites among the list is this:

OFFER to take a picture.
I've been wanting to do this even before I got this present. I just needed a little push and this note did it. 

I often visit places downtown, churches and museums, and a lot of people -- couples, groups and families -- take pictures for souvenirs. When I see them I feel the itch (and it's really strong) to come up to the one holding the camera and ask her if she would like me to take their photo. After a few shots I hand them back their camera and strike up a very short conversation that usually goes like this:

Them: Thank you!
C: Sure, sure. So where are you guys from?
Them: fdkalgifdsk!
C: Oh.. Well, enjoy Cebu!

I think I'll make a good politician.

So far, only one has refused my offer. I guess I'm no Don Vito Corleone. We were inside a church celebrating the parish fiesta and this father was taking a photo of his wife and daughter. I asked him if I could take their photo but he said "No thanks," so I went ahead and sat on the pew; they finished their picture taking and on their way out the wife smiled at me. Hmmm? 

This picture-taking isn't limited to their cameras but mine as well. A couple of times when I went to the library and museum there were teens who were on an educational tour and I offered to take their group photo and email it to them.

I don't know what it is that I get from doing this but every time I do, I walk away with my lips in a curve.

Dear Photograph

Suppose time is a circle, bending back on itself. The world repeats itself, precisely, endlessly.
-Alan Lightman, Einstein's Dreams

This photo was taken on October 16, 2011. 
The photo in this photo was taken on May 3, 1998.
Same spot. Same angle. A decade's difference.

The cabinets, barometer, lights, picture frames are still where they used to be. The organ is now moved to a different spot; there are new shelves, books, photos and even new members in the house.

It's amazing how in just a single click a moment is captured and kept for years or a lifetime. They'd even make very lovely gifts. Sometimes it's the only memory one will ever have.

Back in the days when analog cameras were the only ones available, photos were more tangible. Nowadays they get stuck in the hard drive or the internet and a single virus could erase them all.

My dad told us that one day when we grow old we'll be thanking him for all the memories he's saved for us: photographs and videos. They get riper with age. I've come to realize the truth in those words not so long after he said that. Not that I've aged fast. It's just that I'm a schmaltz.

Print your photos. Write dates and captions.

When I was a kid I used to play the keyboard during recitals, parties at home, and even during fiestas at the sports complex. It wasn't that fun. I didn't like the pressure and the attention. Even now, after 11 years, when I meet neighbors known to me or not, they'd still refer to me as the girl who played the keyboard the night Sweeney passed away.

Nearness of You (Cover)

CHOPPY. You'll hear my name somewhere. Clutter.

My originals are horrible.

The photo is inspired by Dearphotograh. It's a trip to memory lane. Reminds me of  the movie filled with so much nostalgia, Cinema Paradiso.
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