my tears ricochet by Taylor Swift 07/24/2020 This quick sketch is in honor of Taylor's new album folklore and my favorite song in the album đ€§đ
$LAYYYTER
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
đ
EXPECTATIONS
Not today Justin
No title available
almost home

No title available
đ©” avery cochrane đ©”
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
Phantogram Three
The Stonewall Inn

@theartofmadeline

shark vs the universe
Sade Olutola
I'd rather be in outer space đž
taylor price

pixel skylines

gracie abrams
seen from United States

seen from Philippines
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia

seen from Malaysia
seen from Libya

seen from Australia
seen from France

seen from Thailand

seen from Brazil

seen from United States

seen from France

seen from Singapore
seen from Jamaica
seen from Philippines
seen from United States
seen from Russia
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Albania
@cityscapesandnightskies
my tears ricochet by Taylor Swift 07/24/2020 This quick sketch is in honor of Taylor's new album folklore and my favorite song in the album đ€§đ
Sweet Time by Raveena | 07/18/19
"Something
under the ocean
is coming up to the shore,
Under the old sun"
Finlegs by Hannah+Gabi | 06/24/2020
All that I love
I fold over once
And once again
And keep in a box
Or a slit in a hollow post
Or in my shoe.
All that I love?
Why, yes, but for the moment-
And for all time, both.
Something that folds and keeps easy,
Sonâs note or Dadâs one gaudy tie,
A roto picture of a queen,
A blue Indian shawl, even
A money bill.
Itâs utter sublimation,
A feat, this heartâs control
Moment to moment
To scale all love down
To a cupped handâs size
Till seashells are broken pieces
From Godâs own bright teeth,
And life and love are real
Things you can run and
Breathless hand over
To the merest child.
Bonsai, Edith Tiempo
I used to write about love like it was this chaotic but beautiful thing to be experienced by anyone who steps into this intricate web of good, bad, overwhelming, and disappointing emotions. I used to think that if we don't get each other's minds then we wouldn't get each other at all. I've always aimed high at choosing someone to love. I wanted someone who could give me the security of life that I couldn't get with my family when I was a child. I wanted to secure a good life for myself because that was what I was taught. To aim high, dream big, and shatter the world. Growing up these values fueled me to get into a good school, be ambitious, and follow through with actions no matter the consequences.
When I met you, I met you at your worst. And you met me at mine. We didn't have anything in common but our childhood- growing up with adults screaming at each other- and probably the fact that we don't really have a grander dream to live. We were just two average people with financial problems, hoping that someday we'd be able to fly free from these socially constructed responsibilities that we've ascribed to because we love our families. Maybe that's our grander dream, to save enough money and buy us our freedom. In essence, there was no guarantee that you could give me security and you had no security in me either. We're both broke and both trying to make a positive change in the world without having to compromise our resposibilities which meant alot of sacrifices would always have to be made. Which meant we would have to put off our goals as a couple and as individuals because that's just how life goes.
This reality that we are faced with, we faced together. I cannot tell you how much I've tried to convince myself that I can do this by myself but in reality, I really cant. I am weak. I'm not strong nor independent. But if there was something I learned from my last relationship that would be its okay to ask for help. That I don't need to ascribe to this idea of a strong independent woman because strength comes from knowing your own weaknesses and learning how to overcome these. And I've learned that I can get by without a partner but I wouldn't be happy at all. I would get to the top of the world and realize that wasn't what I wanted. I choose you, Michael. I choose to be with you every step of the way. I choose you to be by your side no matter what happens, no matter the problems we are weighed down with.
It gets scary, being this certain with a person. I'm always bracing myself for an ultimate heartbreak because that's all I've ever known. But, you're my home. You are the steady silent hum that keeps me sane amidst this noisy world. I'm slowly discovering myself and in learning more about me, I'm learning that I don't like to be alone. In learning more about me, I learned to love unconditionally. I learned to love you in ways I've never loved someone before. Even though we still don't have anything in common we're growing. I guess its not impossible after all.
Just as they reach the door, and as David steps out, Mia turns and looks back at Sebastian. He looks at her.
Their eyes lock.
A hint of a tear in both⊠And, ever so subtly, for just a fleeting second, Mia smiles.
Itâs the kind of smile you could miss if you blinked â but itâs enough to signal to Sebastian that she recognized the melody he played, and that she still remembers it, and still thinks of it to this dayâŠ
Then she walks out the door.
La La Land (2016) - Dir. Damien Chazelle
23 Things I Love About You (In No Particular Order)
1. Your hair.
2. The way you look when you're focused on work. Programming has a way of making you look sexier. Or maybe its because I don't know much about programming and watching you work is like watching you transform and do magic.
3. Your MYCURE blue hoodie and the way the hood falls on your shoulder.
4. Your collarbones.
5. THE OLIVE THEORY and THE DOBBLER/DAHMER THEORY (the one where a creepy gesture is considered romantic if mutual feelings. Yes sinearch ko siya ok)! I can't stress enough how much I LOVE YOU for these. You are the Marshall Eriksen to my Lily Aldrin, the Ted Mosby to my Tracy McConnell, the Barney Stinson to my Robin Scherbatsky, and everything in between.
6. Your good morning kisses.
7. Your hugs and cuddles from behind.
8. Our nudes and other intimate photos. I can't imagine being that comfortable with my body and my sexuality until you came along.
9. How I, your resident madaldal and oversharer of information, is at loss for words whenever somebody asks about you. For someone who always knows what to say and is a (fucking) debater, you know how to shut me up.
10. https://open.spotify.com/track/7vWHppvllFJXdXf0xplZum?si=5A-vmoK8SCKH1xxWeGP-jg
11. Your eyes, your smile, and your breath in the morning.
12. Your love for your family and the dedication to giving them the best life (no matter how much they misunderstand the work we do).
13. Your love for MYCURE.
14. Your drum skills.
15. Your laugh. Especially when I'm the one who makes you laugh. Even if your laugh came from me embarrassing myself.
16. Your butt.
17. Both your speaking voice and singing voice. I always look forward to meetings because I want to hear yo
18. Your humor (kahit minsan jeje ew HAHAHA)
19. The way you reassure me and make me realize what I'm worth.
20. Your thighs, knees, and calves. Weird but true. I can't explain why.
21. Your hands. They're smooth and holding them makes me feel like I'm protected and safe and loved.
22. I love how we gave each other a fresh start. How we made each other realized that we didn't need to be stuck with who we were with and the situation we were in. I love how our friendship began with sharing our common struggles and how our relationship started with us promising each other that no matter what happens, we'll be there holding each other's hands. This is it. No letting go. Its all or nothing. Hanggang sa walang dulo na to, Michael.
23. I love how I can't remember falling in love with you. I only remember feeling a little bit of kilig and then the next thing I knew, I was willingly giving you my favorite blanket so you'd sleep more comfortably in the cold while I sleep on the not-so-comfy chair. I can't remember exactly when, where, or how. All I remember is getting excited to sleep because I'd sleep and wake up next to you. I remember waking up to the daylight, seeing your face, and thinking "God. I'm so in love with you."
Happy birthday, love. I wish you nothing but genuine happiness and for that magical day to finally come where all of your sleepless nights prove to be worth it. I'll always be here cheering on your side, making sure you have your happy pill and your trustworthy confidant. I'll always support you and take you out on a "walk-trip" date whenever you're feeling down. No matter what happens, I got you. Sorry we didn't get to celebrate your 23rd birthday properly. But don't worry, from now on I'll be here for the next ones. Forever. Happy birthday! I love you always, my daylight.
I have to be able to enjoy the silences in between, the pockets of idleness, the stillness of the dawn. Its not easy- enjoying is an ironic habit that needs to be learned and worked on. I need to be able to stand still in the middle of the unknown and say, "I'm okay" and actually mean it from the core of my soul.
Empty food for the spoiled soul, the facade of it all stands still, yet the mind crumbles like fragile bones. We ask ourselves what did it take to get here, no need to look further, its crushed dreams, false hopes, and fears. But worry not, we will carry on. We have no choice anyway, either we move, or our name be gone. Just hold on tight, 21. 22 is right around the corner, I promise you, it'll all get better.
Happy 21st Birthday
02/10/19
But we carry on.
That's what's important.
Despite of the overwhelming waves,
The loud crash of water on the rocky shores
We carry on.
My Poison. 01/29/19
There's something about the sun and the moon hiding behind the clouds. Like there's a secret humans are not allowed to know. But the sun and the moon are not allowed to touch, all they can do is whisper the secret.
It felt like a dream. Under the dark empty sky Lit by the city lights Our shoes were tapping against the pavement Neither of us say anything And its the best thing I've ever heard, Our hearts beating as one.
our hearts
The Art of Letting Go
I just finished writing my resignation letter for AB Debate Parliament, an organization who took me under their wing during that time when I still spoke of national and international issues like a beauty queen: no substance and superficial. But look at me now, holding 3 championship titles in just two years of my debating career. Isnât that great for a person who never believed in herself? True enough, winning Dialectics 2018 was big for me and for the parliament. But came with winning was also the curse of having to decide which paths to take. I had to have my heartbroken and many othersâ too. Goodbye, ABDP. --
It has been almost a year since I wrote this. At the time I thought, âsurely, Iâll be back in the pavs from time to timeâ. But a lot has changed. Mistakes were made. Words were spoken. Hearts were broken. Whenever I think of the art of letting go, I always see it as a new beginning for me. I never imagined that its also a new beginning for the ones I left. Its heartbreaking to realize that the people who were always just a couple of meters away from preventing me from bursting into tears are now a thousand miles away. The changes that come with the choices I have made are drastic and it breaks my heart to realize that Iâm achieving more than what I could have imagined for myself but I am alone. Only a handful of people to celebrate my victories with. At first. The longer I think about it, the more satisfied I am with my life. The more that I have gained confidence and believed that I am destined to do great things all the while grounded by the people who chose to stay with me and whom I chose to be with. The art of letting go is not an art without complications. Its an abstract work with occasional look-backâs and reminiscence. Itâs important to not get lost and move forward, ready to add another pattern at the complex art of letting go.
October 27, 2018
Midnight, ungodly hour. Amidst the coldness of the night, You were holding my heart And I, yours. Our bodies are pressed into one, In hopes to battle the coldness of the night. In the most sleepless of the nights weâve had, This is the purest one. Iâm half asleep, I shifted. You whispered âI love youâ. Iâm half asleep, I woke. Looked at you from afar You breathed, youâre half asleep. Then I went back into your arms.
Nude versus Naked, an essay by Faye De Leon
Labor Day by Carlo Saavedra
Nanay
by Mark Justiniani
Womenâs bodies have long been a subject for any aspect of the society like economics, education, and art. Prostitution, the commodification of oneâs body, as they say, is the oldest profession in the world. Though this is yet to be proven, any artwork ranging from the middle ages to the modern times can vouch for the truth that has always been present in our realities. The way society perceives women has always been subjected to some form of inferiority as if having a vagina is a disability and hindrance to fulfilling duties outside of the socially constructed femininity spectrum. As John Berger, a world-renowned art critic has put it, âA manâs presence is dependent upon the promise of power which he embodies,â and this power is precisely dependent upon womenâs inferior status. We blame the patriarchy- the society, for what women have become, for the existence of a ladder that needs to be climbed, which needs to be destroyed ultimately. But did we forget that we are exactly part of the same society whose standards and constructs we condemn?Â
In 1972, in an excerpt from his book Ways of Seeing, John Berger explained how women are born into an immediate confined setting, that she as a woman must always watch herself or survey herself and form her own being into the pre-made model of how a âproperâ woman must behave. This created the notions of the surveyor and the surveyed (Berger, 1972). And women are believed to be both the surveyed and the surveyor of themselves. Surveyed in a way that everybody expects a woman to behave in accordance to the social constructs, and surveyor in a way that she continually sees herself as the surveyed, therefore joining the band of the surveyors in surveying herself in accordance to what the other surveyorsâ standards are. And these surveys will eventually determine how a woman should be treated in the society. Berger simplified this idea by saying that âmen act and women appearâ (Berger, 1972). As the woman appears to people, she becomes an object for the eye and she is not seen for herself but for what the society indicates her to be; she becomes a view, a sight to see. In other words, the problematic male gaze is also embodied by the women through micro-aggression, without women knowing it. Though John Bergerâs book was published 46 years ago, the truth remains ugly until now. Women are looked at and men are looked upon. Nakedness, the state of having no clothes and being oneself, is automatically stripped away from a woman once she is born. Women are always seen in the state of nudity in which theyâre naked for the purpose of being looked at, and it eventually becomes their costume for the society to see (Cultural Reader, 2011). However, Labor Day by Carlo Saavedra tackled a much harsher approach on womenâs nudity, in contrast with Nanay by Mark Justiniani which was more peaceful and exhibited somewhat a melancholic vibe. These two paintings, displayed in Pinto Art Museum, Antipolo city, successfully portrayed the difference between nude versus naked.        Carlo Saavedraâs Labor Day is a unique take on the concept of nudity of women. The way Labor Day exhibited nudity was based on the harsh truth of the society. The harsh color combination of red, black, and white made the audience feel as if the painting is hard to look at. The utilizing of red as the background made it clear that this painting has a sad and painful story to tell, that it can be as dark as the color black, even if the main protagonist of the story is as genuine as the color white. As seen on the left, there is a woman visibly naked and posed in a provoking way. If we look closely on the right, we are met with the shadow figure of the same woman on the left side, only it is clothed. This is exactly what it means to be nude- to be seen as naked by others but still not recognized to be oneâs self (Berger, 1972). To us audience, we can only see her nude and the real idea behind who she is appears to be cloaked and overshadowed. The way in which her legs were spread wide open seemed as if it was an invitation for people to look at and possibly touch freely, seeing as the woman was painted with no arms. This leads us to the implication that the woman in the painting is now seen as a spectacle. To be a spectacle is to be regarded as an object of curiosity or contempt, a dramatic public display (Merriam Webster, n.d.). And since she is now a spectacle, whatever people may do to her once she is positioned as she is, she cannot do anything about it because she is just a mere public display. Even if she was able to move and such, she will still be regarded as a dramatic public display. Whatever she does now is always tied back to her being seen as an object, being objectified by the audience. We can also see that there is blood dripping from her vagina, which can only indicate that even if she is posed as if she was inviting an audience, letting herself become a spectacle, it still hurts her womanhood. She is aware of what is happening to her because of the pain that she is experiencing that was materialized through the dripping of her blood. Which brings us to the reason why this artwork is entitled as Labor Day. From the analysis of the physical aspects of the painting, we realize that the woman in the painting is self-aware that she has become spectacle, and she lets herself become a spectacle. We then are faced with the question: why did she let herself become a spectacle? Labor Day is a portrayal of a woman who recognized how society perceives her kind as a spectacle. And in this age, becoming a spectacle is not just a mere public dramatic display, it also becomes an act of commodification. Displaying your body, whether or not it is considered prostitution, can get you money. Aside from prostitution, this is also evident through the existence of social media influencers and how advertising agencies take advantage of the influencersâ large amount of followers to advertise their products and services. Carlo Saaverdaâs Labor Day recognized this mechanism present in the status quo and portrayed the harsh reality of how modern women, even if they are owning their bodies for empowerment and body positivity, can still be seen as an object to use for monetization and commodification. Labor Day is a nude painting showered with the ugly truths of our society. On the other side of the spectrum, we have Mark Justinianiâs Nanay painted in 1999. We are taken from the harsh reality to a peaceful realization of what it means to be a mother. Nanay portrays a naked woman lying beside a pond, and in her arms is what seems to be a grown man in the same position as hers, and a babyâs reflection on the pond. Justinianiâs use of deep and dull colors exhibited a melancholic and nostalgic vibe which is perfect for the message of the painting. The naked woman lying in a fetal position and embracing a limp image of a grown man is a metaphor for how after all that we have been through, at the end of the day, we are still subjected to go home into the clasps of maternal love. Which is also the reason why the reflection of the old man on the pond is that of a child; maternal love will always have us feeling as if we are newly born again because a motherâs love never changes. The way Nanay portrays nakedness is that of a peaceful one. To be naked is to be oneself (Berger, 1972). The woman is a mother and we see her exhibiting motherhood through caring and embracing her grown child. She is naked because she is stripped off of the societal perception of what a mother should be. Often, people think of being a mother as work, a responsibility, and mothers should continually work to reach the standards of being the âperfectâ mother. But in this painting, she is unclothed as if she no longer wears the burden and pressure that society puts on her shoulders, as if she is free from all the surveyors, surveying her. In a way, her fetal position tells us that she is finally done from always checking herself in the mirror, keeping tabs of how well or how poorly she performed as a mother, as a person. And now, she has decided to return to the pure and genuine form of being a mother. We see her not for the kind of parent that she is to her child, not if she was married or part of the large percentage of teenage pregnancy- we donât see if she strived hard to provide for her children, we donât see if she is a protective parent and the likes, instead we are met with the simplest realization of what being a mother is: unconditional love. The very reason why motherhood is often thought of as work that fleshes out the life of every mother is because of the societal standards that women have to achieve. These standards are rooted in how a mother concretizes and materializes her love for her child. There are various ways of expressing love to children, but for some undeniably absurd reason, society decided to put standards as to how a mother should be. People took the idea of a motherâs unconditional love and twisted it into a form of economic and financial capability. While this is understandable for the reason that a child has needs to be met, it is unjustifiably unfair to categorize women, specifically mothers, in accordance with their capability to provide material things to her child. We must realize that providing material things only goes a short way and is only on the surface of being a parent. A child will always grow out of the clothes you clothed him with, there will come a time when he will put all his toys away, one day he will realize that he wants to explore the world and discover more of himself, and the only thing that a parent- a mother, can do is to provide her child with the abstract means of surviving, which are principles and beliefs- a moral compass, in order for her child to grow up as a decent human being. And this moral compass cannot be measured through financial and material means, rather it comes from a deeper manifestation of a motherâs unconditional love. This is exactly what the painting portrays: an image of a grown man and a naked mother, lying still among the garden of life in an embrace, immersing themselves in the pureness of a motherâs unconditional and unchanging love; A naked portrayal of the beauty and genuinity of a mother and child relationship. The difference between nude and naked is rooted in the establishment of societyâs standard values which stemmed from the solidarity or alliance that was formed by different groups of men. And among these groups, the most powerful and influential will eventually establish or be the standard themselves of the societyâs values, to which the less powerful and subordinates are inclined to follow. According to Hegelâs book entitled Elements of a Philosophy of a Right, there is a power struggle between these groups. While the notion of the established principles and values are good because it provides a form of unity, it still fuels conflict and alienation to those who try go against the current. Meaning that the surveyors of the society are either part of the powerful elites or are coerced to follow the standards posed by these elites. The concept of nudity is a precise embodiment of a woman who is coerced into following the standards of her surveyors, just as what Carlo Saavedraâs Labor Day showed, in order for her to survive and not feel alienated, to which she paid the price of being objectified, becoming a spectacle, and losing herself amidst the surveyors watchful eyes. On the other hand, Nanay portrayed the peace, purity, and genuinity that comes from being free from all the social constructs created by the powerful elites. Though watchful eyes remain, the mother and child have successfully broken the chains that bound them from the superficial understanding of what it means to be mother- stripped naked of all of the heavy burden of being coerced into following the restricting standards of society.        John Bergerâs excerpt from Ways of Seeing, Nude versus Naked, has successfully provided us with the self-awareness that people need to critique not just art, but society itself. However primitive the book is, the truth behind the mechanisms on how our society functions everyday remains to be evident and real, only now, it has evolved into the technological aspect of social media and deeper metaphorical meaning. The concept of nudity and nakedness is not always restricted to the image of a woman but is also applicable to all kinds of gender present in our status quo. That is why, as much as the problem of objectification was rooted from the power and influence of the dominating group of patriarchy back in the medieval times, we cannot solely condemn them because of the reason that society is now heavily diverse and culturally interwoven. Now, nudity may not be as simple as being objectified, it can now also be a form of commodification. Naked may not be just a state of having no clothes, it can now also be a state of reverting back to who one truly is. Life is now more complex, and it requires an even keener and watchful eye for us to realize and see the core truth that is layered behind more interwoven truths.Â