I am lost for words, again. Lost for thoughts and ideas. Battling mild depression and self-deprecating sickness.

So, instead of words, I’ll be showing some pictures plus a story about them.

This one is a replica of the famous university icon, The Oblation. This particular one stands in UP Baguio. This is the first Oblation I saw among all the Oblations of UP. When I first beheld the figure a decade back, and a simpleton as I was, I just remarked silently, “Oh, quite different for a statue” (or something like that). Never I realised that this would be an icon I am to revere until I succumb to death.

I still wonder up to this day how fair could be the countenance of this lone figure. His pose–arms spread out, head upraised to the heavens (or to some place yonder), offering himself. And it has always been like that. Onlookers at his feet only see this “side” of the sculpture. But how about his face, his expression. I know his eyes are closed and his lips slightly open.

Well, there is a side view photo of his face but I want to see the front angle. This is the closest I could find, though (both from flickr users). I hope someone thinks of photographing that.

Here is another image of the Baguio Oblation.

The next image was taken on a Sunday at the broad steps of the Museum of the Filipino People wing of the National Museum. I framed the image to show two teenage couple and a single one, I assumed. If I am not mistaken, the one on the right was there rehearsing with his friends as a dance group at the former Agrifina Circle.

Talking of semiotics, what could the “No Entry” sign speak about the subjects of the image?

At the centre of the former Agrifina Circle rose the brass monument of Lapulapu of Mactan. Holding a sword, probably a kampilan, he seems to guard the vast Bagumbayan. On his opposite is the monument of Jose Rizal. This Lapulapu monuments stirred a controversy as it was installed in Rizal Park (a.k.a. Bagumbayan and Luneta). Apparently, the park should extol Rizal above any perceived hero. But this Lapulapu sculpture by Juan Sajid Imao is larger and taller than the sombre Rizal.

Anyway, what I really want you to notice is the mole at the chin of Lapulapu. I found it rather amusing that the sculptor, perhaps, contemplated on putting a mole. I just thought it highly unusual, nevertheless possible. (Update: I think the sculpture fashioned the face of Lapulapu to his, hence the mole. Look at this image of Sajid with the Lapulapu closeup.)

I used to ride the metro train because of the ease of travel. The only problem with trains, however, is the tendency of overcrowding during rush hours. But on a quiet Sunday afternoon, the coaches are sparsely occupied and one gets to have a seat. You get to enjoy now the spacious chamber of the coach.

At the museum, while looking through the collection of artifacts, art forms, and lots of vases, I found myself “almost” following some foreign tourists. This one is a Korean. I was always led to the path that this tourist is following, so I get to see him often.

Here is another one in the red shirt.

 

This is a lamp post taken on an afternoon in a farm where I live (during weekends, I I get to visit it). I always want to go there, invoke inner and virtual peace, and wallow on being idle even for so short a time. Very rustic, don’t you think?  I sometimes imagine myself living in a foreign province, miles away from an urban centre. There I could simple close my eyes, listen to a single sound piercing through space, let time go its course while wishing mine to pause or halt. (Well, just an influence of watching movies and animes.) But seriously, I want that kind of life–less worries (and pains), but that isn’t possible. Living can be fine and cruel at the same time.

 

This following is an image of some Manila children idly playing at that imposing relief opposite the Manila City Hall.

The following is a stained glass depicting the the seal of the Philippines installed at the aforementioned museum . This is only a part of a row of stained glass designs, others bearing the logos of some government departments, gently illuminating an otherwise dark chamber.

 

 

Living in a city is always a challenge. I find it ironic that where the government is easily accessible and can reach its populace, the more it seems difficult to dispense the basic humanitarian care and comfort that any person needs. On the streets and public places we are faced with this dilemma that since the colonial times existed. Happiness may be relative and subjective but the basic needs are universal.
That’s all.

 

 

 

 

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