• Home
  • About

Copyright and license

Creative Commons License All works on this site by Camille Diola are licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License unless otherwise stated as belonging to their respective copyright owners.

ALL ANGLES

rasterize, rock, Rothko, rhyme, Rohmer

So many conversions, so little time.

It's not easy to convince people to shift from Firefox to another platform. After all, Mozilla saved our web browsing souls from the hell that's Internet Explorer. Sure there also came Opera and Safari that bore good news and free hope, and loyalists of such sects embarked on verbal crusades to promote and defend their browsers. I'm not saying they're false prophets, more like St. John the Baptist or Elijah, maybe, preparing the way for the coming of The One.

And Chrome, that's the one.
It's fast, smooth and easy, like Bond 007. It syncs bookmarks in the office computer and your personal laptop. It employs real designers to come up with kicking skins to brighten your Internet-surfing day. It's user-friendly, ready to be your BFF. And! It! Almost! Never! Hangs!

Sure it's not perfect, like I can use some easy editing option for the default favorites page. But that's about it.

Our company's web developer, our marketing officer, my friends and housemates have been convinced. Google Chrome rules the kingdom of the Web. #


Still uncomfortable with the new title of this de facto website. I'm not very literary, but I'm obsessed with rhymes, postmodern forms, indie verses and yes, alliterations. I can't even justify the name. But since I refuse to call it a personal blog, or a blog mainly about one certain topic, or a niche website looking for fanatic followers enough to found a cult, I had to think of a low-profile, general-enough name to be reflected on the banner.

I must admit though, my friends liked that "Mimimayhem" title, 'cause it has been cute and high schoolish for 6 years. Now that someone's trying to be mature and make ends meet by self-marketing, let's give it an 8-word title that confuses the heck out of everyone and one which every one would not remember ever. Awesome way to start.

But we know Shakespeare, and we know that famous line:
"A rose by any other name would smell as sweet."

So yes, "a rose-colored blog by any other name would still be a rose-colored blog." #


When someone asked me once what I planned to do right after graduation, I said I'd do freelance work. She dissuaded me from doing it, thinking my name has to be on the map first before I can land projects bankable enough to avoid 3-in-1 coffee. Hesitantly, I fumbled into Job Street.

So I've been employed, and the few months so far have been sufficiently rewarding - meaning unexpected, rough and at times slipshod. Got my hands on soft sell aka internet marketing, leading a team of creative newbies experimenting with crude push and pull strategies. Bought a book, read up for a week, and applied the tricks as if I had a related degree. Then came pseudo-project management that required brain cells to load process flows, tech terms and bureaucrats.

I learned that everything can be learned. Whoever said our left-right brain prejudices can't be crossed?

On the side though, I'm paid to write and design. Write and design. It's fast and happy and colorful. I'd pass up on most potential projects, and pick a few smaller ones that can be squeezed in between work and modern philosophy. I call the shots, I scold at myself, I work whenever and wherever, and there's creative freedom. The so-called life.

I'm still employed, but I can't wait to have my hands completely free to take on small and random writing and designing (and the occasional PC-virus cleaning) challenges I always resent turning down. Channeling my limited math skills, I calculate I can live off from them for at least a month. And the best thing? I can stay home, be the boss and secretary of myself, eat meals in peace, pray conveniently and just chill. A month or two won't hurt, plus hey it's December. Viva liberté. #
For the past couple of months, I've been spending an awful lot of time in Intramuros. The walled city, aside from its thick history, is also the seat of important government offices that run the country. There's COMELEC, the star (infamous or otherwise) of every national elections, and the Bureau of Immigration, where I've been hanging and playing the familiar bureaucratic waiting game in the 4th floor. I'm quite lucky, I guess, now that the building has been redesigned and renovated, with professional spaces and 21st century equipment. It's what the contemporary government agency should look and feel like.

Despite the 3-hour collective travel time daily, I find going to Intramuros for field work instead of reporting in the office preferable. And the main reason has got to be because the Manila Cathedral, less known as the Minor Basilica of the Immaculate Conception, is a few-yards walk from the Bureau. What's so fascinating about it is how much it attracts foreign tourists and local visitors such as moi not only by its history but by its imposing structure. I, for one, love that there's something new I discover about it everyday - a hidden statue, an intricate carving on wood, a Latin aspiration.

As memento of probably my last official work day in Intramuros, I took several photos of the Cathedral, and some vain attempts to translate some inscriptions into English.


Flags lined up by its curtilage marking the liturgical season of Advent.

Tibi cordi tuo immaculato concredimus nos ac consecramus, or roughly, "To your immaculate heart we commit and dedicate" written at the facade. Okay, so I'm missing a pronoun.

nativity scene

The lovely belen or nativity scene at the side.

Pieta at the Manila Cathedral
An almost-exact copy of Michelangelo's Pieta in one of the Basilica's side chapels.

St. Peter's Statue at the Manila Cathedral
Praying by the foot of this life-sized statue of St. Peter as Pope holding the keys to the kingdom
of Heaven is most inspiring.

Our Lady of Guadalupe in Manila
A verified copy of the original Our Lady of Guadalupe in one side chapel.

Latin mosaic
A Latin phrase in a mosaic I gave up trying to translate. I think it's an address, something like, "You, my beloved, shall be mindful of your words foretold by the apostles."

Pipe organ in Manila Cathedral
The grand pipe organ played by international masters through the years.

Altar poinsettia
The main altar with the image of the Immaculate Conception atop the tabernacle adorned with beautifully-arranged, fresh poinsettias.

Manila cathedral dome
A dome reaching out to the heavens, with stained glass windows unseen by human eyes dedicated to God alone. #
Tim Burton is lucky to be Tim Burton. Not all Hollywood directors get the freedom to make every little aspect of every film freshly and precisely out of his personal vision, and then get the needed funds to sustain them.

His works are "dark" and "quirky" (Wikipedia, 2009), and although he is less known to be an artist and a writer, he is as good in these crafts as he is in filmmaking. I mean, his work reminds one of Dr. Seuss'. And it's already weird enough that Johnny Depp, Helena Bonham Carter and Danny Elfman are his kind of muses, but now that his versatility as an artist is being showcased to the high art world, given his mainstream identity, it's even weirder.

Since I've been a subscriber of the Museum of Modern Art weekly newsletter announcing the latest exhibitions and events, it's surprising - and surprisingly refreshing - to have received one on Tim Burton > Visit his website, it's awesome.

"MoMA explores the extraordinary inventive world of Tim Burton with an exhibition of 700 works - from drawings, paintings, to photographs and costumes, puppets and cinematic ephemera - that reveal his talent as an artist, illustrator, and writer working in the spirit of Pop Surrealism."

I've been reading up on modern art for years, but I've never heard of "Pop Surrealism" before, and it's troubling to think the so-called movement can just as easily be identified with any manga, graffiti, random uncirculated comics and tattoos (googling it results to mentions of "lowbrow"). If Burton would be the artist who'd make it a legitimate fine art movement, then let's embrace it as we did Impressionism, and make him Manet.


Above is an amazing promotional vid. I wish I was anywhere near MoMA. #
Study time for me.
Here we go philosophy.

---


Again with the Natalie posts. I guess one never really grows up as a fan.

The object of my fanhood though, is all grown up, playing motherly and wifey roles in the big screen. Oscar contending film Brothers by Jim Sheridan (In America, In the Name of the Father), tells the story of Grace (Portman) who has to endure the loss of his Afghanistan-lurking husband Sam (Tobey Maguire in a strong performance, says critics) when his chopper was gunned down somewhere in the Middle East, supposedly leaving him dead. His black-sheep brother, Tommy (Jake Gyllenhaal), steps up as the family man, comforting grace and the children. When Sam returns to the surprise of everyone, like some kind of a resurrection, tension arises and thus the conflict of the story.

Even with all that brilliance, I only care about seeing Portman in the role, and the little girl who plays her daughter Isabelle, who looks like a cross between Maguire and Katie Holmes. Besides, I've nothing interesting to say. #
To do list before going on 2-week hiatus:

1. Print and submit activity forms, 4.65 years in the making.
2. Print and submit plans, so I can sleep sound at night.
3. Meet with project people, don't doze off, flash a smile, coffee binge a mugful.
4. Refill house printer ink - an excuse to walk 2 blocks away from the office in an attempt to be healthier, yo.
5. Write 10 text messages to Mom, time their delivery for twice a day - after breakfast and before bedtime daily - so she won't feel I'm not checking my phone.
6. Buy laundry powder and a week's worth of midmorning cookies to be a healthy kid.
7. Delegate printing press tasks to someone who's out and about in the world on Wednesday.
8. "Say what you need to say," John Mayer said.
9. Find out why sales people hand out business cards using both their hands.
10. If not recovered, write second copy of a wishlist provoking Santa's generosity ... and love. #

and marketing and self-marketing,
I might be the only one not on Twitter.
And I'm not planning on signing up any time soon.
After all, I write awful pseudo-poems
that are more than 140 characters,
'cause that's the least I can do.
Thank you. #
First, a disclaimer. This is NOT a sponsored post. I'm doing this out of free will and all-out charity.

Like the raging water and mud we must have been high so for tough times and tragedies, I recommend Yahoo! Launchcast, an online radio with minimal advertisement-nuisance and music genre freedom, like there are over a hundred radio stations to suit every taste and generation. This is definitely my third Y! love, after the RSS indexer My Yahoo and grandfather service Yahoo Mail.

There's also this "Play a mix" bar where listeners can key in their favorite artist and everything played from then on are songs by that act or those in the same genre or generation. So I plugged into Boyzone radio with this feature and check out the coolest evuh lineup of songs generated in random -- a precious chest of rare, sought-after treasures only those with discriminating taste and high level of culture can appreciate:

Boyzone - Must Have Been High
All Saints - Bootie Call
Aaron Carter - Oh Aaron
5ive -Rock the Party
Boyzone - A Different Beat
Spice Girls - Mama
N*Sync - I Want You Back
Mandy Moore - Walk Me Home
Li'l Kim - Lady Marmalade
Britney Spears - Everytime
Boyzone - So They Told Me
B*Witched - Blame It On the Weatherman
East 17 - Each Time
Backstreet Boys - Shape of My Heart (Soul Solution Radio Edit)
N*Sync - Pop
B*Witched - Rollercoaster
Christina Aguilera - Come On Over
Boyzone - That's How Love Goes
... On and on and on.

It's the nineties man, sure I was born a fan.
A philosopher friend of mine is celebrating her 40th birthday on the 28th. Inspired by Daria and this inconsequential sketch of a dachshund by Picasso and my newest masthead above, I vector-drew an outline of her most distinguishing and enduring features: her bangs and her glasses. Plus, she lives off medieval studies and an enlightened mind. So I carefully Googled some Latin phrases to mark the middle ages and chose an astoundingly apt subtitle - a fortiori, "with yet stronger reason."


This is the half-end product of my pseudo-artistic contemplation -- a ticket to her parteyyyyy!


Yep. #
Inspired ako sa Tagalog.
Kaya sa Tagalog din ako mag-isip.
Nakaka-relaks pala.
#



Bye, Nadal. See you next time when your knee gets better. For now, my Argentinian player advances.

I wish every morning were like this. A battle conquered. #
The chicken reports the scattering stair throughout our composite. #
A big, bold, underlined, highlighted Y-E-S.

Since the world embraced the cult of the amateur, as digital media pessimist Andrew Keen calls it, many started to resent the democratization of previously untouchable fields, making it available to everyone, and making everyone a quote-unquote expert.


'Cause, see, it's easy to blog. It's easy to Photoshop. It's easy to Google. It's easy to Windows Movie Maker. I can be a publisher, you can be a designer, my toddler sister can be a researcher and my gen-Xer Mom can be a filmmaker. No formal training required. No tuition fees. No books. Just time, minimal wizardry and a Facebook account.

Purists condemn ease. Ease is death to art, they say. It's an age-old conjecture tracing back to the birth of photography -- a now-accepted medium they used to call non-art. They said the same of fauvism, and then the world looked up to Matisse. Big deal.

Don't get me wrong, everyone can discriminate. Like when I gave up studying digital photography when people my age started buying entry-level digital SLR cameras and snapped every minute of their days. So I put my camera back in its box in an attempt to preserve my vain individuality. Plus, I never read Harry Potter to deviate from the muggle bandwagon.

But then came design and Photoshop. Same thing. They say it's not art, it's easy, the experience of it is not of the creative process that comes from within.
Oh. come. on.
A blank page is a blank page. A professional, traditional artist starts with a blank page as much as a dork Photoshopper does. The former's creative process can be as much as the latter's.

DeviantArt.com, for example, features all sorts of digital artists, from the crudest to the finest. It's a real design democracy. Skills are of different levels, but they don't determine expertise in communicating ideas or executing good taste. There might be an explosion of so-called artists and it might seen at first glance to be a dilution of the highbrow.

At closer look though, standards are higher than ever with the increase in wisdom, competition and visual noise generated. A good design is still a good design, and a bad design still is a bad design. But the ones who will stand out are still indisputably those who are most gifted and politically savvy.

Saying the old is better than the new, and that the traditional should be more esteemed than the fresh and easy are just non sequitur. #
Before, it's
A Christmas Carol,
A Tale of Two Cities,
Bleak House,
David Copperfield,
Great Expectations,
Oliver Twist, and
Our Mutual Friend.

And now, it's
The Pickwick Papers.

I'm trying to redeem myself from a shameful childhood of abridged versions. I'm reading the real thing -- two inches thick with point-8 type. Glorious.


Mr. Dickens accompanies me in the morning while I travel to work, 'cause that's about the only time I can spare to read a book for leisure. I decided to pick him up again since I've been speaking in colloquial idioms, and people don't seem to understand sometimes. So I resolved to start reading my 8th Dickens to show I can still hack it in the proper English arena. It makes me doubt the 18th century syntax helps though, I mean, can we still speak this way today?

That gentleman had gradually passed through the various stages which precede the lethargy produced by dinner, and its consequences. He had undergone the ordinary transitions from the height of conviviality to the depth of misery, and from the depth of misery to the height of conviviality.
It's like saying, "So he dozed off to sleep after a boisterous dinner." Geez.
But who's complaining? It's beautiful and rich and oh so wordy, in a way my journalism professors would condemn in a copy. It's all right to be rebellious sometimes, eh mister? #
Let's do some math.

If we travel for 2 hours every day from home to office or school and from the workplace to our homes, then we spend 120 minutes hailing transportation and riding, right?

If we read an average of 250 words per minute, and spend around 30 minutes walking or waiting for the shuttle in a way that it's almost impossible to do anything else, then we can still spend 90 minutes in idleness inside a transport.

What's the point? The point is, if are able enough to read inside a moving vehicle where we spend an hour and a half a day, then we can read 22,500 words a day. And if the average length of a novel is around 100,000 words, then we can finish a whole novel-length book in 5 days!

Of course, those who drive can listen to audio books or downloaded talks in audio format from TED.com. I haven't gotten the stats for that, but that's just about the same point.

'Cause the point is, there's just too much time we throw every day when we can accomplish some more.



22,500 words a day for culture
.
It feels weird I'm blogging again. It's as if I actually have time to do this as regularly as before. But I try, right? Especially now that I'm afraid I'd lose my writing skills I constantly relied on when I was in college. Now, that is weird, referring to college in the past tense. It's like being all grown up now, ready for the world and all. Who are we kidding?

What's weirder, is that I have these new modules in my My Yahoo! page.



And if you're on my My Yahoo! page, it says a lot. It says you've reached a whole new level in my criteria of immediate concerns, a.k.a. you've had me at hello.

No to the corporate world! I ate my words. I should have known how to never say never. #
I'M BACK.


Sort of. Or so I think. #
Reproduced without permission from the authors:

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Mimi:

This year-long pursuit for truth was not a one-man effort. With that, I am deeply grateful to the following:

My partner, Absie, whose undying optimism made the grind easy to bear. Our adviser, Prof. Yvonne Chua, whose guidance and encouragement inspired and shaped our work. Our sources from the maritime and education sectors had been patient and generous with their time and resources. My parents and sisters, besides being my only fans, have been a constant source of joy and sanity. My friends in the College and in Bellecroft formed a collective comfort zone. And Daniw Center provided a “restful haven for one to be authentically human” (Ocampo, 2006).

--

Absie:

Sailing the sea of thesis writing is hard enough. And with an ocean-deep topic such as the MLC controversy, you can definitely feel like you’re going to drown. Fortunately, the entire experience was never solitary. And I’d like to thank the following people who kept me afloat.

~Mimi, for being the perfect thesis partner and for the conscience who kept nagging me to commit SIN (the name of our thesis) when I don’t want to anymore. I know you wouldn’t graduate without this. ~Friends, for the unsinkable ship. ~Family, for being anchors, when I need stability. ~Ma’am Chua, for being our lighthouse, shedding light to guide us and even hope, with every e-group message, when we’re lost at sea. ~The government and all its bureaucratic layers, for creating the MLC storm in the first place and the rough seas we had to ride. ~The seafarers, for being the wind that blows our sail. ~The movement, for the hope of one day reaching the shores of national democracy. #

Actual paragraph my thesis partner and I wrote in Methodological Issues part of the last chapter:

"Since the issue of the MLC spanned a period of seven years and involved several bureaucratic agents, research employed significant archival digging and context building to establish the scope and limitations of our brains."

Dig lang ng dig, okay?


Oo, napatalsik na naman kami. Third round pa lang 'yon sa Indian Wells. Masakit pero nangyari na ang nangyari. Yun nga lang minsan, parang game! tapos makikita mo na lang, unti-unti, parang manghihina na ulit. Alam naman ng lahat na si Santiago ang isa sa mga bihirang manlalaro na may kakayahang sipain si Federer in two sets of three. Pero kasing hirap ko lang 'yata magsulat sa Tagalog, ganong kadali matalo ng mga unheard-of players ang bet ko.

Bakit ganon? Inconsistency, pare.

Kung babagkasin ang kasaysayan, 'di pala nag-iisa si James, pati ang mga naging paborito kong atleta inconsistent din tulad ni Peja at Hantuchova. Para bang one shot deal. Mapapahanga ka at mapapanganga for a period of time, tapos gano'n na lang. Talento at lakas? Meron. Follow through? Wala.

Ganito ka rin James. The fact na sinusuportahan kita kahit ano'ng mangyari ay nagsasabi din ng maraming bagay tungkol sa'kin. Lalo na ngayon na wala ka na sa top 10, na 'di ka makapanalo ng five-set matches, na nakukuntento ka lang sa pagpapahanga ng audience sa bilis at talsik ng bolang tinatamaan mo, na kapag mahirap 'yon bang na akala mo wala ka nang mabubuga dahil halos limitado na ang nalalabi mong araw sa laro.

James, hindi 'yan nasusukat sa awesomeness o sa angas o sa experience. Feeling mo ba ayos lang na itapon ang laro kapag umaabante na ang kalaban? Dahil ba magte-trenta ka na at sa larangan ng tennis ay 100 years old ka na? Hindi, James. Kaya mo pa eh, obvious naman. Konting inspirasyon lang siguro (para sa fans lang ba) o mahigpit na coaching (at coaxing). Dudepare, consistency lang 'yan.

Madaling magsalita dahil nanonood lang ako. Ang nakakagulat dito ay ...
ikaw at ako, Blake, pareho. #

--
photo credit: tennischick.net
Kudos for the Blake commentary!
There is an industry. There is art. There is a wonderful country.

And nobody else wanted to shout this more than Francis Magalona, the man of the moment, "The Man from Manila." Everything on TV is him now and I think it's just proper. Real visionaries deserve more than that. And this is not even to credit him yet as a person outside the world of show. From what I've heard and have been hearing, and through encounters with his family, it's all approval.

I feel like a loser for not having known his contributions to the industry and the nation while he was still alive. I loved "Kaleidoscope World" though, and I remember my high school friends Saab or Frank shrugging away expressive admirers of their great dad. I guess they're too used to it and they tried hard to look for ways to say it's already a given. Like there's no question the man is admired and loved and that's the way it has always been. We've heard all about it, humor us.



I give it to you, Francis M! The last post-humous tribute I wrote in this blog was for the previous Pope. I'm proud to have met you even just once. Thank you for giving us the music. I mean, I think I wouldn't be known as the rapper among my friends if I wasn't inspired by your performances. Hihi. Your family is one of the most generous I know. No doubt you grew it. #
My friend Karen and I were in a conference just this week and we were asked by panelists if we believe the media can educate. For us, it wasn't even a question, but a given. Why should it be? If a significant part of our formal education is reading books and receiving information from them, then aren't the media also regarded and treated the same way? Why put such distinction? Books are primarily a medium, a channel and storage of information. The media aren't called mediums collectively if they don't do the exact same thing.

I just advised a research paper for UNIV on the youth's participation in YouTube. The ideal is, of course, to use the website as an educational resource. But as a primarily commercial entity, YouTube is mainly utilized for entertainment and is therefore not maximized as an information website.

Thing is, we can forget about YouTube once we've met TED.


Technology. Entertainment. Design.

TED started in 1984 as a conference that brings together some of the most influential and brilliant minds in these fields and get them to talk. Like you know torture them to extract their secrets, like that. For more or less 20 minutes, accompanied by slide show presentations, they give the talk of their lives. Since then, TED has expanded to cover virtually all fields that include literature, health and values. And now it has a website that shares these talks to the world and licensed with Creative Commons for the extra generosity.

I discovered TED.com through my good friend Noreen who once showed me and my friends a video featuring Ken Robinson on how schools kill creativity. It's one of the most interesting speeches I heard in a while and so I started paying TED a regular visit to download and watch talks of leading figures in my favorite fields: design, technology, art, the media. Only on my moments of rest, of course, and fine also sometimes of distraction. 'Cause it's such an addicting preoccupation, like you can't really get enough from these walking geniuses on the face of the earth.

If you've been reading my blog, maybe you've noticed I have a particular admiration for mega bestselling author Elizabeth Gilbert. Okay, I haven't read any of her books or anything but I've heard some addresses she gave through YouTube and the like.


Here she gives a talk on genius and how it shouldn't be regarded as of an individual. It's too egoistic, she says, to think such immense creativity only comes from a meager self. She instead attributes it to the divine, sort of like going back to how ancient Greeks regard it to be. Old in concept, yes, but some things should really be made to last. #
I almost forgot I love Green Day until I heard "Warning" in the car earlier.
And to make up for it, I shall blog about them today.

I mean, I know all their hit songs. For a rock band, I understand them quite well. Like I love Coldplay too much but I don't get them sometimes. Coldplay's all symbols with a cerebral aesthetic and experimental guise, sort of a post-impressionist, Fauvist art (and I sound like I really know what I'm talking about). While Green Day is comparable with Warhol or Lichtenstein. Their imagery is all too familiar, mainstream in a sense, but you can understand why it's art. Social critique like that, leftist at times, moral-spiritual on occasion, dilemmas and all.

Being a punk rock outfit, Green Day curses and name drops chemicals ("I'm blowing off steam with methamphetamine'), to show the world they're cool and rebellious, and therefore likable. But they also come up with lyrics like those in "Good Riddance" that accompanied me when it was time to make hard calls:
Another turning point a fork stuck in the road
Time grabs you by the wrist directs you where to go
So make the best of this test, and don't ask why
It's not a question but a lesson learned in time.
See? As if they're guidance counselors in all black and hair wax. But they sure have heart.
For what it's worth, it was worth all the while.
It's something unpredictable but in the end it's right.
I hope you have the time of your life.
Few words and I feel like my life story has been told, ironically by guys I'd undoubtedly run away from if met on the street. Because they look so bad. Cool bad.


#

--
photo from www.smellslikelalternative.com
a lead.

Five words. One quick sentence. In black and white.
#
Newer Posts Older Posts Home

About Me

ART AS A PEDESTRIAN

Hi, I'm Camille, and I'm a real journalist from Manila. Without claiming expertise on the subjects, I try to write about my artistic and cultural encounters on this 17-year-old spot.

Categories

art books creativity curio design exhibit films history music people places reviews writing / reporting

Blog Archive

  • ►  2004 (1)
    • ►  July (1)
  • ►  2005 (7)
    • ►  April (5)
    • ►  July (1)
    • ►  December (1)
  • ►  2006 (10)
    • ►  January (2)
    • ►  March (1)
    • ►  June (2)
    • ►  August (2)
    • ►  September (1)
    • ►  October (1)
    • ►  November (1)
  • ►  2007 (40)
    • ►  January (3)
    • ►  February (1)
    • ►  March (2)
    • ►  April (5)
    • ►  May (3)
    • ►  June (3)
    • ►  July (5)
    • ►  August (5)
    • ►  September (3)
    • ►  October (2)
    • ►  November (4)
    • ►  December (4)
  • ►  2008 (29)
    • ►  January (3)
    • ►  February (3)
    • ►  March (1)
    • ►  April (1)
    • ►  May (2)
    • ►  June (4)
    • ►  July (4)
    • ►  August (3)
    • ►  September (1)
    • ►  October (4)
    • ►  November (1)
    • ►  December (2)
  • ▼  2009 (26)
    • ►  January (2)
      • I'm dreaming of
      • Today is just so Green
    • ►  February (1)
      • Big Fat Geek Website
    • ►  March (3)
      • The Urban Patriot
      • Okay lang 'yan, James Blake, okay lang
      • Writing the end is as hard as starting
    • ►  April (1)
      • In partial fulfillment of the requirements for the...
    • ►  June (2)
      • After my longest "hiatus" ever
      • Market shift
    • ►  July (1)
      • 22,500 words a day
    • ►  August (1)
      • Big Charles for 2009
    • ►  September (6)
      • Yes to design democracy
      • Oddest sentence ever
      • Del Potro lines up for US Open finals
      • Ganito kasi
      • Daria meets a dachshund
      • It's the nineties, man.
    • ►  October (2)
      • Of all the slaves of social media
      • I'm saving Post Its, so.
    • ►  November (4)
      • Oh Brothers!
      • Nose in the books
      • MOMAster Storyteller
      • Angles of the Manila Cathedral
    • ▼  December (3)
      • Oh the freelance life
      • AAAOAAOA
      • Google Chrome evangelist
  • ►  2010 (37)
    • ►  January (2)
    • ►  February (4)
    • ►  March (2)
    • ►  April (2)
    • ►  May (1)
    • ►  June (2)
    • ►  July (3)
    • ►  September (5)
    • ►  October (7)
    • ►  November (4)
    • ►  December (5)
  • ►  2011 (34)
    • ►  January (3)
    • ►  February (3)
    • ►  March (3)
    • ►  April (2)
    • ►  May (1)
    • ►  June (3)
    • ►  July (2)
    • ►  August (3)
    • ►  September (5)
    • ►  October (1)
    • ►  November (3)
    • ►  December (5)
  • ►  2012 (18)
    • ►  January (3)
    • ►  February (3)
    • ►  March (3)
    • ►  April (3)
    • ►  May (2)
    • ►  June (1)
    • ►  July (1)
    • ►  August (2)
  • ►  2013 (3)
    • ►  February (1)
    • ►  May (1)
    • ►  August (1)
  • ►  2014 (3)
    • ►  March (1)
    • ►  November (2)
  • ►  2015 (3)
    • ►  March (2)
    • ►  May (1)
  • ►  2020 (2)
    • ►  June (2)

Whut!

We will have but one option: We will have to adapt. The future will present itself with a ruthlessness yet unknown.
~Michelangelo Antonioni, filmmaker

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness ...
~first lines of Charles Dickens' The Tale of Two Cities

Culture is to know the best that has been said and thought in the world.
~Matthew Arnold, cultural critic

The only way to really change society is through culture ... it's not through force, it's not through armies, it's not through politics (but) through freedom.
~Dony McManus, artist

You are a fine person, Mr. Baggins ... but you are only quite a little fellow in a wide world after all!
~Gandalf in The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien

"I find television very educating. Every time someone turns on the set, I go into the other room and read a book."
~Groucho Marx, actor

Don't laugh at a youth for his affectations; he is only trying on one face after another to find a face of his own.
~Logan P. Smith, essayist

God is in the details.
~Ludwig Mies van der Rohe, architect

Twitter

Tweets by camillediola

Copyright © 2015 ALL ANGLES. Designed by OddThemes