of "solitary in the midst" and zoom

people can be everywhere but some of them solitary. in a noisy place, you see their silence from afar and speculate about their thoughts.

she looks like waiting?


















he looks like choosing between two or many things?


















I too was alone...

and thinking about them.

my conclusion later?

I have a "poor zoom" camera. I had to blur the periphery (yes, retouch)to isolate people already alone.

have you been sick?





















it is like noticing the stitch holes in your curtain.

If you google earth East Avenue of Quezon City, it will appear like a spoke radiating from the Quezon City Memorial Circle.

Among the smaller tributaries that feed traffic to the East Avenue is a small dirt road that shares an entrance way with the Forestry agency. The dirt road leads to a village with more people per unit area. People call the place squatters area, slum, etc. I just call it Forestry as the residents call it. You can walk inside and through the neighborhood and find yourself, after twist and turns, arriving at Quezon Avenue (another spoke radiating from the circle) or BIR Rd.

Here are some photos from Forestry:

bird house with no bird over a shirt hanging
























galvanized walls




















later,


fruit stand at BIR Rd

Nostalgia is foreign to those who have not experienced it.














I spent 9 years and many months in the block behind the fence shown above. It is a university-hospital complex.

Those years were loaded with things to do and books to read. But those years were not wasted. Among the many things I learned there:
a wig is as important as chemo or radiotherapy,
denial is not antonym to acceptance but prelude to it,
students to be motivated has to be inspired, not terrorized.


When you happen to pass by that big chunk of space and structures bordered by Faura, Taft and Pedro Gil Streets, give it a placid gaze. Inside are multiple intense disposition-changing events occuring at the same time at different levels and stages (and I dont mean Mc Dreamy!).

about thirty strides before malakas street ends bluntly at the sulo hotel in quezon city is a thai restaurant.










food is great as well as the small garden with a manmade small fall/fountain.

walking sometimes ends with food

too often, for me, a walk that ends in eating ends in slumber...

From the Streets of Mas

shorter banana but one with produce


























flowers and more greens:








































resting hardworking men:


























they were sleeping under this




























The streets of Ma?

Not mother, but some adjectives in Tagalog. Most street names in Barangay Central, Pinyahan and Teacher's Village (?) in QC start with Ma.

Malakas (strong), Matapang (Courageous?), Maginoo (Gentleman?), etc.

What do you talk with someone , who has a long flight the morning after, that lasts past 2 AM? Only life and its issues , as well as the troubleshooting that goes with it. Bilateral. The issues, overlapping.

My father's sister (I think I like this better than the generic "auntie") did just that last night. Somehow before we slept (without saying the exact words), we resolved we're too blessed to complain.


After knee-jerk but highly reassuring embraces in NAIA, she went in. Embee and I left. Gentle sunshine sifted through the leaves in the airport road sidewalk but they were a blur to the sentimental me.




















A little later, street scenes were a welcome diversion.

washing and taking a bath in the street, taking advantage of the water from the pipes as Water people repaired something at the other side of the road.



































woman carrying a big load


















would you like some beauty rest or videoke rest?




















or open air reading?