Spent Christmas by attending a reunion in my father’s hometown in Quezon province.  Didn’t waste the opportunity to take some shots of vintage stuff.

My grandmothers and fathers on the father side.  My great grandmother is sitting at the center.  My dad is standing, on the extreme right.

Another picture of the Rico family.

We took these family pictures from a xeroxed scanned copy, enhanced and converted them to sepia.

The 425-year old San Diego de Alcala Basilica of Gumaca, Quezon.  It faces the seaside boulevard where our school then is located.  It’s windy there outside as usual.

The pink path to the famous castle by the sea.

On our way back to Manila, as we’re checking out what to buy for pasabulong, we noticed this imposing creepy house in Sariaya, Quezon.  We did a quick walk and discovered that many of the old Spanish houses still retain their grandeur despite having been converted to contemporary houses.

If life is a mind-blowing trivia game wherein people continue to live only if they could name something or define things, much like being able to take in oxygen, then it is knowledge that determines our existence.  This is the latest topic of my dream.  It’s very philosophical, rife with images of worms burrowing and decomposing.  If one fails to answer the life-and-death questions, death in the middle of a stage by hanging is the punishment.  The crowd cheers and jeers to ridicule the fallen person on the floor.  But after the drama, they realize that if a question was asked of them that instance, would they know the true answer?  But what if the supposed answers are lies? Then who knows the truth?  The image of a butterfly hanging aflutter in the air with wings built of lies is fixed in my mind at the end.