The Feet of Reason

I just got invited to play for Manly in this year's Nationals. It's going to be my first all men's tournament (at the Nationals level no less) and I was pretty stoked to be selected for the team. So of course instead of promptly doing sprints around the park to start training, I did what every true-blue Filipino frisbee player does.

I went shopping.

Finally, an excuse for me to go to Rebel Sport and peruse the latest range of cleats (or footy boots as they're called here). Nevermind if my holiday in Manila left me wanting in cash. I needed to replace my worn out Total 90's ASAP.

It took me a whole hour to decide which shoe to get and it came down to two choices-

a) A nice comfy pair of Asics. Australian Podiatric Society recommended. Simple, yet utilitarian.

b) A nice white pair of Nike Tiempo Mystics. White in a "you can't guard me" sort of way. Flashy, yet understated.

No contest really.


Say hello to my leetle friends.

Anyways, the thing I realized about this trip is that men are not that far from women and their legendary lust for footwear after all. Material desire exists in all of us, even if some choose to deny it (or even develop meditation techniques to block it out). It's times like this that make me realize I am no different from all the girls I have gone out with who froth at the mouth whenever Nine West goes on sale. In those situations I have always found myself to be the voice of reason, the dispenser of logic convincing them that spending a month's salary on a pair of heels really isn't a good idea. One of the few instances in life where a man makes perfect sense.

Today, in Rebel Sport Testosterone Land, it was the other way around for a young couple, who were taking their son to be fitted for some cleats. The father and son immediately spotted the latest pair of Adidas shoes, which looked like some sort of alien weaponry. They came in special hard plastic boxes, and a picture of David Beckham was etched on the front, smirking in a manner that pretty much said "buy these shoes mate, and at least look like the bottom half of me." They also cost about 300 dollars, but that's not the point.

"Erhm." The mommy coughed. She motioned for the son to come over where she was. Above her was a sign- "Discount Bin- All Crappy Unwanted Shoes In This Box Must Go." Ok fine, it didn't say that, but that's what the son must've interpreted as he begrudgingly walked over to his mother, shooting over one last "why'd she have to come along" look to his dad, who could only shrug helplessly.

The mom had her boy try on different cleats- all functional, all in good working order, but were as unstylish as me in a room full of Manila socialites. You could see this boy's enthusiasm slowly ebbing away. What's the bloody point of me playing soccer if I'm wearing cleats that look like they were worn by the German Army in 1945? he was probably thinking. The mom looked awfully pleased with herself as she spied a pair she thought was perfect.

"But it's two sizes too big." The son moaned.

"That's perfect, you'll grow into them."

Cue ominous Amadeus music. Son is in near tears. Mother cheerily whips out the wallet. And as she pays, father and son are left scratching their heads wondering what the hell just happened. Because in this one particular day, the voice of feminine reason stood out, a voice that quickly errupted into squeals of delight as she spied a store nearby with a sign that said Jimmy Choo, New Line Out Now! And off she went, miserable family in tow.

No contest really.

Blinding Again

Decided to check on my website and watch some of my older stuff, some of which I hadn't seen in months. I watched an old film of mine called Blinding, and for some reason, it affected me somewhat differently than before.

As a filmmaker I sometimes find it hard to get emotionally attached to a film I've done, mainly because I spend hours and hours watching it over and over while editing. It's tough to get a read on how people will react to your film because your own view of it is somewhat conditioned to it already.

Having said that, I realize it's good to take some time off from your work, step back, and forget all your impressions of it. And that's what I did tonight. And it felt strange. Okay fine. I got senti and nearly cried. Bloody dust in the flat got in my eyes. Honest.

Watching the film took me back to a certain time in my life which was very melancholic. I had just lost someone very dear to me and I ended up dedicating the film to her. Blinding is about loss, how we appreciate the little things in life only once we've lost them. I find this lesson a recurring theme in my life sadly.

What also made me sad was the fact that I did not shoot a short film in 2006. Sure, there were the countless videos for work, but that's work. I didn't get to do anything for myself, and for that I am deeply regretful. I blame it on the constant haze that festered in my head for most of last year. I lost my focus, and this year it's time to get it back.

So if you haven't seen it yet, have a look at Blinding. It's far from perfect, and of course watching it now I can see 10 different things I would've done differently, but it is a nice little reminder of who I was back in 2005. This film seems to be a family-and-friends favourite, and I enjoy playing it on my laptop when I want to make my sisters cry. Be very patient with the download, as I refuse to post it as a low-quality stream. Watch it in a dark room with some earphones. That's what I did, and may be the reason why I got so...emotional.

Damn dusty flat.

Ants Marching

Just got back from a month long vacation in Manila and was immediately greeted by familiar friends- roaches, who no doubt have been capitalizing on my absence to breed at will. They've been joined by a gang of black ants, who don't seem to mind the fact that I'm home. A few of them have even brazenly crawled up my leg, as if to ask who the hell I am. Needless to say, it's Mortein time once again.

It's a bit strange entering my apartment and seeing things exactly the way they were. Don't get me wrong, it's a sight I would much rather prefer than seeing the flat totally cleaned out by burglars. What makes the whole thing strange are the signs of how I seemed to be in such a hurry to leave-

Dishes washed and dried. Not too well. A stack of unopened bills on the counter, to which I put aside with the thought "I'll pay them when I get back." My renewed lease, which I was supposed to mail out, but postponed, again with the same mindset as the bills. Laundry which was supposed to be washed, all tied up in a large towel and surprisingly still odorless.

Was I in that much of a hurry to get home? I suppose I was. Eager to stop working and spend the rest of my unpredictable 2006 in the company of friends, family, and some false killer whales. I needed a break from my life and I needed it to happen ASAP.

That said, my month in Manila was just what I needed. I feel recharged now, and thanks to certain events that have transpired, I feel like my life has a bit more direction again. My 2007 begins now.

(And it starts by paying the bills.)