Worked half an hour on fourth glaze.

Wishing I were 21 all over again, sitting on a wooden bench in a side street of Chinatown, and watching a kao ka that will go on and on and on through the night. The make-up, costumes, music, and singing were always terrifying to me, but at the same time fascinating.

Angelique and Jazz came down to a late lunch in the dining room; Aubrey still asleep from her night shift.

Photo from the Internet.

These are the things I always enjoyed, never tikoy and dragon dances: the Chinese opera in side streets, food I hadn't tried ever, wandering through old hotel lobbies and watching the aged, visiting curio shops, stopping by temples. I couldn't speak a word of Mandarin or Hokkien but always managed to get by. It was great feeling like a foreigner in my own country!

Worked half an hour on third glaze.

An early lunch at home alone; grandchildren still resting upstairs.

Good morning, Cubao!

The scent of a sunny seaside wafts through the darkest corners of the city.

Good night, Cubao!

Night creatures love preparing midnight meals. Their dining areas are in the hollows of trees.

One Message To One Of 233 Friends, One Every Night Of The Year

You with five syllables in your name: Who are the people who deserve your kindness the most?

Dinner at home with Angelique and Jazz.

Aubrey brought her dinner upstairs in preparation for her night shift.

Asked David to bring some food over to M.'s cafe staff.

Night chores.

My favorite time of the day has come again: an evening shower, and then snuggling in bed with a Netflix movie.

Worked an hour on second glaze.

David found the missing piece we've been looking for.

Worked an hour on first glaze.

M. now supervising the cleaning of our foyer floor.

Lunch in the dining room with Aubrey; Angelique and Jazz ordered food from outside and are eating upstairs.

Good morning, Cubao!

Sunshine flows on tin rooftops like molten amber.

Good night, Cubao!

Darkness has a voice, but it whispers.

One Message To One Of 233 Friends, One Every Night Of The Year

You with two syllables in your name: Try sulfur soap to rehabilitate and improve your skin.

Staggered dinnertimes.

Asked David to bring some food over to M.'s cafe staff.

Night chores.

My favorite time of the day has come again: an evening shower, and then snuggling in bed with a Netflix movie.

Worked half an hour on seventh layer.

Angelique and Jazz arrived from lunch out.

Watched Korea's Collectors (1:54:20). Kang Dong-goo, a talented grave robber, offers his services to a rich collector who murdered his father years ago. At first he offers a golden Buddha, and then volunteers to prove his abilities by asking the collector to finance the robbing of a funerary mural in China. Finally, he offers to retrieve the royal sword of the deceased General Yi Seong-gye from the Seolleung Royal Tomb.

The treatment is very light, almost as though the movie were a comedy. I stuck with it just to see those lovely props.

Alas, no one was eating noodle dishes or drinking soju in this movie. 

Worked an hour on sixth layer.

Angelique's fifth and last day of online final exams.

An early lunch at home alone.

Jazz arrived.

Angelique and Jazz are now off to have lunch out.

Worked an hour on fifth layer.

Good morning, Cubao!

The day stretches on the hills like a man watching the world on TV.

Good night, Cubao!

Moonbeams are bolts of gossamer fabric unfurled onto the earth.

One Message To One Of 232 Friends, One Every Night Of The Year

You with six syllables in your name: What are the toys you still want to play with as an adult?

Asked Nino to bring some food over to M.'s cafe staff.

Night chores.

Brief business meeting with M.

My favorite time of the day has come again: an evening shower, and then snuggling in bed with a Netflix movie.

Dinner at home with Angelique and Aubrey.

Worked an hour on fourth layer.

Worked an hour on third layer.

Brought two sets of bed linen to the compound laundry: Aubrey's and mine.

A delivery arrived for a tenant: a brewery machine. It's made of stainless steel and came all the way from China. The tenant intends to brew his own beer and sell it. 

Worked half an hour on second layer.

Lunch at home with Angelique; Aubrey still asleep from her night shift.

Happy Birthday to my second sister, Remi!

Good morning, Cubao!

Guard dogs always do their jobs well.

Must go back to Korean movies soon. I miss their noodle meals--whenever someone is taking noodles for lunch or dinner I go to the kitchen and fix myself convenience-store Korean cup noodles that I bought at the neighborhood grocery. I love that beef is always a special treat for them, and that characters take beef whenever they want something special or are celebrating something. (Yes, the neighborhood grocery also sells beef samgyupsal.) Also love it when the characters order soju, though I myself am partial to brandy.

Watched all eight episodes of Taiwan's 2020 Futmalls.com. This movie has three stories, about despondent characters who find solutions to their problems via a mysterious website called futmalls.com that exists only in the future.  

In "Best-selling writer" a writer who cannot handle rejection steals another writer's future through the mysterious website futmalls.com (three episodes).

In "No chance to grow up" a mother copes with the loss of her young son by trying a bottle of eye drops called Artificial Tears from futmalls.com that enables her to see her son grow up on a different plane (two episodes).

In "Air doll & Internet celebrity kidnappings" a bug-collecting nerd orders from futmalls.com a doll that, when soaked in water, transforms into the image of a female livestream host willing to be intimate with him (three episodes).

In the meantime there is the constant presence of the members of the detective and investigative team, who do not become exempt from the clutches of futmalls.com.

The second story is the most heart-wrenching and the most insightful, though it is told in only two episodes.

The three stories are cleverly intertwined, and illustrate that we are haunted not by our past but by our future, and by loved ones who exist in parallel universes. 

Welcome to the Taiwanese Twilight Zone, but there is a B-grade mentality twist at the very end, and the movie is cut off abruptly, leaving a few loose threads untied.

Good night, Cubao!

Gnome children sleepwalk too.

One Message To One Of 232 Friends, One Every Night Of The Year

You with two syllables in your name: Do not eat fried food all the time. Rotate your meals with grilled, boiled, steamed, and raw-processed.

Dinner at home with Angelique and Aubrey.

Asked David to bring some food over to M.'s cafe staff.

My favorite time of the day has come again: an evening shower, and then snuggling in bed with a Netflix movie.

Asked Nino to fry lumpia shanghai for us.

Nino and David walked Keiko Kashigawa, Yukiko Taka, and Cloudy on the compound, then gave each of them a strawberry-scented anti-flea shampoo.

Worked half an hour on first layer.

Worked an hour on construction lines.

Angelique came down to lunch in the dining room.

Delivery of art supplies arrived.

An early lunch at home alone; Angelique and Aubrey still resting upstairs.

Good morning, Cubao!

Glass panes shield your house from the elements.

Just because you don't see people suffering and dying doesn't mean that they're not.

Good night, Cubao!

Shield yourself from the world, and sleep well.

One Message To One Of 232 Friends, One Every Night Of The Year

You with seven syllables in your name: Telling lies can make you ill, for they fester within you and contaminate all of the cells in your body.

Dinner ay home with Angelique and Aubrey.

Asked David to bring some food over to M.'s cafe staff.

Asked Nino and David to bubble-wrap the A.T.A.R.D.A.R. taladro for Y.

Night chores.

My favorite time of the day has come again: an evening shower, and then snuggling in bed with a Netflix movie.

Worked another hour on construction lines.

So strange. All of the male presidential candidates are beginning to look tired and broken. The lines on their faces are directed downward, like cartoon illustrations of grief: downward-pointing hair, eyebrows, eyes, and lips. As though they were auditioning for Clayface.

Except for Isko Moreno, who always manages to look fresh and energetic.

Back from jalan-jalan at the center. Bought two trays tuna sashimi, two trays salmon sashimi, and a bottle of Thai sriracha sauce at the Japanese delicatessen for our dinner.

It was a Great-Gatsby-summer hot afternoon, as hot as the chili sauce.

Early Valentine's Day goodies from my sister Sylvia in Sydney.

Angelique came down to lunch in the dining room. She got the highest final grade in her Law Review class.

Worked an hour on construction lines.

Lunch at home alone; Angelique and Aubrey still resting upstairs.

Good morning, Cubao!

The wise old mouse pays a visit to the mouse cemetery.

Good night, Cubao!

The house mouse stocks up in her pantry once again.

One Message To One Of 232 Friends, One Every Night Of The Year

You with four syllables in your name: Know that it is hunger that frequently makes you weak.

Dinner at home with Angelique and Aubrey.

Brought some food over to M.'s cafe staff.

Night chores.

My favorite time of the day has come again: an evening shower, and then snuggling in bed with a Netflix movie.

Watched China's 2019 Super Me (1:43:35). Sang Yu, a starving, unsuccessful screenwriter, has schizoid fugues in which a shadow figure physically attacks him. Harassed by his landlord and a movie agent he owes, he is saved from committing suicide by a kind food vendor who helps him assert himself in his fugues by telling him to declare aloud that he is merely dreaming. Very soon, during those fugues, he not only learns how to confront the shadow figure--he also returns to reality with valuable apports that he sells to collectors, and becomes very rich.

The movie is really a love story with fantasy trappings. Having acquired billions, Sang Yu purchases the flailing coffee shop of his secret crush, Hua'er, partners with her, and makes the business boom. Inspired by his crush, he writes a screenplay and becomes a world-famous moviemaker.

And then the twist happens.

Though not apparent to many, the movie is a deconstruction of the German fairy tale "The Fisherman and His Wife." In school we studied the 36 dramatic situations, but I  find it very interesting that most, if not all, contemporary movies are still actually variations of classical fairy tales.

Worked half an hour on construction lines.

Cecilia's portrait is finally rolled and sealed inside a PVC tube, ready to be picked up and transported to California, presumably after the pandemic.

A box of ice cream from my sister Remi.

Lunch at home with Angelique; Aubrey still asleep after her night shift.

Cecilia's portrait before trimming.

Cecilia's portrait after trimming.

Good morning, Cubao.

Garden mice ride in leaf canoes on shallow billabongs.

Sometimes you have to be extremely grateful for having enemies, especially when your spirit guides deflect their way the illnesses that should have been yours.

It is all right for an artist to not be humble as long as he does not think too highly of himself.

Good night, Cubao!

Active volcanoes are beacons for travelers in outer space.

One Message To One Of 232 Friends, One Every Night Of The Year

You with seven syllables in your name: A sandalwood image of Ma-Tzu, Chinese goddess of the sea, will protect your home from dangerous storms.

Dinner at home with Angelique and Aubrey.

Asked David to bring some food over to M.'s cafe staff.

Night chores.

My favorite time of the day has come again: an evening shower, and then snuggling in bed with a Netflix movie.

Engaging in politics will always take a huge chunk off your life and will never fail to leave you with disturbing memories.

Doing night chores is like finishing up for the day at the office minus having to worry about facing traffic and getting home safely.

Worked half an hour on construction lines.

Swung by the neighborhood grocery. Did minor groceries.

Watched Taiwan's 2021 The Soul (2:10:18_). A businessman is murdered inside his mansion. A prosecutor and his wife take on the case and discover a chain of seemingly occult events, a mere disguise for illicit relationships and brain surgery experimentations. The dark rituals, the Chinese black magic grimoire, and the moments of apparent spirit possession are all letdowns, for they function as red herrings in the story. The unfolding of the plot is straightforward enough, but many of the details are improbable and convoluted. Detachment from the characters and the material naturally ensues, and interest flags. After all, even in this day and age, transmigrations of the mind and heart are confusing and demand too much suspension of disbelief.

Gorgeous exterior of that mansion, though obviously a product of computer graphics. As for its interior, it was filled with too much derivative and decadent 1970s modern art.

Angelique came down to lunch in the dining room; Aubrey still asleep after her night shift,.

Started trimming canvas of Cecilia's portrait, preparatory to packing it.

Back from National Book Store Superbranch at the center. Bought more art supplies. Toto drove for me.

An early lunch at home alone.

Good morning, Cubao!

Bushes grow at the entrances to gnome tunnels.

Good night, Cubao!

A bed with a canopy and drapes is a room in itself.

One Message To One Of 232 Friends, One Every Night Of The Year

You with seven syllables in your name: Of your more than a thousand Facebook Friends, only 20 are really worth keeping.

Dinner at home with Angelique and Aubrey.

Brought some food over to M.'s cafe staff.

Night chores.

My favorite time of the day as come again: an evening shower, and then snuggling in bed with a Netflix movie.

Asked Nino to fry pork samgyupsal for us.

Aubrey came down to her mid-afternoon lunch.

Worked half an hour on construction lines.

Worked an hour on construction lines.

Sheet clouds above Cubao.

Starships passing over.

Angelique came down to lunch in the dining room.

A cup of jasmine tea.

Taking my rings off again to commence painting.

Lunch at home alone; Angelique and Aubrey still resting upstairs.

Preparing materials for my next painting.

The earth will speak again.

Good morning, Cubao!

The clouds are dollops of sour cream on the pie of sky.

Watched Korea's Memoir of A Murderer (1:58:02). A former serial killer who now has Alzheimer's disease suspects that his daughter's boyfriend is also a serial killer, and seeks to protect her. As quiet and as balletic as (also Korea's) Burning. Both movies, as a matter of fact, are studies in reality and unreality--and parallel realities and parallel unrealities-- and both well-crafted and extremely disturbing, though they have two different directors. 

Good night, Cubao!

Even the house gnomes hunker down and watch the evening news.

One Message To One Of 232 Friends, One Every Night Of The Year

You with two syllables in your name: Make the most of the night by sleeping well.

Asked Nino to bring some food over to M.'s cafe staff.

Night chores.

My favorite time of the day has come again: an evening shower, and then snuggling in bed with a Netflix movie.

Staggered dinnertimes.

Swung by the neighborhood grocery and D.'s store.

Forty winks.

Angelique's fourth day of online final exams.

Angelique and Jazz came down to a very late lunch in the dining room.

Took reference photos of a models for my Saint Sebastian painting.

M. and Nino wrapped the Peter painting. I now have two paintings ready for pick-up and installation at Maryhill School of Theology.

M. and Nino set up my next canvas on an easel--this one's not for Maryhill but for my prospective exhibit sometime next year.

 A mage with no financial stability is society's biggest joke, for he is nothing but a sad caricature surrounded by Halloween props.

Make a list of everything you desired and saved money for and purchased that are now merely dust-catchers and useless junk.

Good morning, Cubao!

Sunny thoughts rise in the air like shiny soap bubbles.

One Message To One Of 232 Friends, One Every Night Of The Year

You with six syllables in your name: Avoid false prophets who always foretell incidents of gloom and doom.

Good night, Cubao!

Sometimes you will hear the hue and cry of the enchanted rabble.

Asked David to bring some food over to M.'s cafe staff.

Night chores.

My favorite time of the day has come again: an evening shower, and then snuggling in bed with a Netflix movie.

Staggered dinnertimes.

Jazz arrived.

M. and David watered the plants in the roof deck, side balcony, and front balcony gardens.

Drinks for the grandchildren from the neighborhood tea house.

Yakult delivery.

Took an early lunch at home alone, then Angelique came down to lunch in the dining room; Aubrey still resting upstairs.

Retouched two sides of the black cradling.

Asked M. to buy art supplies at the center for me.

Good morning, Cubao!

Doormats sparkle whenever the gnomes wipe their shoes on them.

Watched all 16 episodes of Korea's The Guest.

Park Il-do, an evil spirit from the East Sea, "visits" a quiet village and possesses a little boy who belongs to a shamanic family. The boy's mother drowns and his grandmother hangs herself. Two priests attempt to exorcise the boy, but the spirit possesses the younger priest instead. The boy's father, believing his son evil, attempts to kill him, but the boy runs away to the younger priest's house, where the younger priest, still possessed by the spirit, murders his own parents and attempts to also murder his younger brother, who is still a little boy. In the meantime a policewoman and her young daughter drive by and stop to talk to the shamanic family's boy, thinking him a victim of child abuse. She knocks on the door of the possessed priest, who then kills her after she rescues his younger brother and enables him to run away. The priest eventually commits suicide.

Flash-forward to 20 years later. The two little boys and the policewoman's daughter are now grown-ups and approximately the same age. The boy who belongs to a shamanic family is now a taxi driver, the priest's younger brother himself a priest and an exorcist, and the policewoman's daughter now a detective. Serendipitously, they meet up to work on a case of possession that they trace to the continued existence of Park Il-do, who, during the course of the entire movie, directs his minions to possess a series of victims. At the same time, the three protagonists work together to resolve the murders that occurred in their families 20 years ago. 

This movie has interesting scenes of Korean shamanic rituals and Catholic exorcism rituals. It is as gripping as _The Possessed_ but, thankfully, not as gory and not as sadistic. The exorcism scenes are credible, and are certainly more convincing than those in The Exorcist, which, to me, had many intellectual and cinematic pretensions. In The Guest there is no levitation, no skin discoloration, no gashes, no rotating heads, no green vomit, no superhuman strength, and no obscenity. It is one of the best movies on exorcism I have ever watched, and is second only to The Rite.

On the downside, the screenplay gives way to an imbalance of performances. It has a lot of ham acting by all of the villains on one hand and deliberate underplaying with limited facial expressions by the good guys on the other. But then again I have yet to see a performer playing a possessed role as though he were acting in a four-act, Chekovian play.

I love the interface between the Catholic, the non-Catholic, and the un-Catholic approaches to possession and exorcism. I nonetheless found Episodes 10 and 14 to be most suspenseful, though, ironically, they contained no scenes of full exorcism. The last episode ties loose ends and should be watched through the end titles.

The problem with movies in series like this is that their writers and directors depend on the creation of cliff-hangers at the end of each episode to keep the audience intrigued. As in the serial novel the problem can never be shaken off, like futile efforts to disguise the heels of humans wearing fish tails in mermaid movies. And, as I find with other series, 16 episodes can be uncomfortably long. Most scenes are simply variations of previous ones, using other characters, other situations, other settings and props, and other special effects. One can push a premise only so far.

So strange, though. All the way from beginning to end the female detective reminded me so much of Bambi Gamban, my former student at De La Salle University; the old priest reminded me so much of Jun Aguilar, a former HR officer at the U.S. Embassy; the assemblywoman reminded me so much of a Facebook Friend in the south; and the assemblywoman's relief driver reminded me so much of a Filipino cardinal. 

Good night, Cubao!

Night jasmine releases its perfume under moonlight.

One Message To One Of 232 Friends, One Every Night Of The Year

You with five syllables in your name: It is useless to keep random pieces of hardware. You will seldom, if never, get down to making use of them.

Dinner at home with Angelique and Aubrey.

Brought some food over to M.'s cafe staff.

Night chores.

My favorite time of the day as come again: an evening shower and then snuggling in bed with a Netflix movie.

It is the ending of a movie, neither its overall budget nor its cast, that determines whether or not it is a B-grade movie.

Deliveries arrived despite the rain, including the granddaughters' Torani caramel syrup.

Bought sticks of pork barbecue from a hawker's stand.

Lunch at home with Angelique; Aubrey still resting upstairs.

Painted two more cradle sides black.

Afternoon rain in Cubao.

Your Messenger message:

"Hi Tony! Good day!

"I had an usual dream last night that made me feel so much joy! "I dreamt. As I was walking with a dear person who I have not met in real person but felt I was close to him, A Uncle corn came and greeted me! I was soft, colored aqua with pink streaks and it's horn was soft too with pink streaks on it. It had kind big doe eyes with a smiling lips like a dogs. It went to me to be petted. Then as we proceed to walk, I met fluffy big brown friendly cute dogs, of which one of them was shaped like an alpaca camelish kind without hump. Oh it has nice beautiful doe big eyes with long beautiful lashes! It smiled at me and made me hug and stroke its fluffy soft fur! I met nice beautiful siblings of that dear person in their huge place filled with nice plants, a green swimming pool, beautiful living room with beautiful interiors and furniture. I woke up when my dog kissed my hand....

"*Unicorn, not Uncle corn

"*It was, not I was soft

"*unusual, not usual

"Sorry for typo errors, Tony."

My reply:

Hello _____!

I am happy that this dream gave you great joy, but you should always look beyond the initial appearance of everything in the dream, for they may be filtered through the defense mechanism denial. Despite the fairy-tale quality of this dream, what I see is that it is about the first time you were seduced but not necessarily molested, consciously or unconsciously, and that this was initiated by an older male relative. I have no idea how old you were at the time, but I can surmise that it was the first time you became aware of male-female dynamics and tensions.

Worry not, because there are two, significant animals in your dream: the unicorn (a symbol of a virgin's devotion) and the dog (a symbol of protection and loyalty), the second of which I take to represent your husband, who serves you well and is, for the most part, under your control.

Think back also to the immediate past and see what triggered this dream. Could it have been in response to something that you saw in your daughter's life? A good suitor? A sweeping feeling of romantic love? A vision of her future?

If you cannot analyze the dream in these disturbing ways, just sit back and relax, and I will simply tell you what elders usually say to dreamers: "It was only a dream."

Good morning, Cubao!

Enchanted houses always have flower boxes below their windows.

Tony Perez's Art of War: When you get rid of someone you don't like, you simultaneously get rid of all of his friends and associates whom you also don't like, thereby hitting more than one bird with one stone.

Good night, Cubao!

House mice use cotton buds as garden torches.

One Message To One Of 231 Friends, One Every Night Of The Year

You with two syllables in your name: Always be conscious of cleanliness and hygiene.

Dinner at home with Angelique and Aubrey.

Brought some food over to M.'s cafe staff.

Night chores.

My favorite time of the day has come again: an evening shower, and then snuggling in bed with a Netflix movie.

M. and Nino rotated the canvas on the easel for me.

An old man who looks like he's in his mid-80s has been frequenting the compound dustbin lately. He is partial to plastic containers and corrugated cardboard boxes. Like all scavengers he is nomadic, and walks all the way to Project 4 and other places and back. He is at our dustbin at least two times a day. Lydia and I do not send him away because he is quite neat and orderly. He segregates our trash, sweeps the dragon tree leaves off the driveway, and functions as our part-time security guard and janitor. Whenever he comes upon dumpster food he sets them aside and feeds them to his dog, who has reddish-brown fur like raw sienna mixed with a tad of red ochre, who always looks clean and well-groomed--and who eats only what she likes of the dumpster food. I let them nap on the platform between our two side porches. I suspect that they also come in the middle of the night and sleep there.

I have yet to ask the old man his name, but, this afternoon, I asked him what his dog's name is. He said that her name is Camille. I wonder if he spells the name that way, but I've decided that he does, because old scavengers are transient, urban hermits: they have knowledge and wisdom surprisingly superior to that of ordinary citizens, and they have extraordinarily keen powers of observation.

On Saturdays I buy lunch for the old man, usually a deep-fried chicken thigh and rice. He goes outside the gate and hides away from me to take his lunch, but I know that he eats all of it and then gives the bones to Camille.

Maferefun, Eleggua Okada!

Good morning, Cubao!

The day gnomes open their kaleidoscope shops.

The werewolf crossed the street to the burger stand.

Good night, Cubao!

Watch out for the avalanche of moon dust.

One Message To One Of 231 Friends, One Every Night Of The Year

You with two syllables in your name: Live simple, live clean, and eat and sleep well.

Dinner at home with Angelique and Aubrey.

Brought some food over to M.'s cafe staff.

Night chores.

My favorite time of the day has come again: an evening shower, and then snuggling in bed with a Netflix movie.

Whenever a Korean character on Netflix exclaims "Ha-shhh..!" in exasperation, it is immediately subtitled "Shit!"

M. went to the center and paid our water bill.

Staggered lunchtimes.

Retouched two cradle sides.

Good morning, Cubao!

The pensive day fairy loves sitting on the garden bench.

Good night, Cubao!

Household pets sleep and nap well to classical music.

One Message To One Of 229 Friends, One Every Night Of The Year

You with two syllables in your name: Never announce your triumphs and your acquisitions in the company of the envious.

Dinner at home with Angelique and Aubrey.

Brought some food over to M.'s cafe staff.

Night chores.

My favorite time of the day has come again: an evening shower, and then snuggling in bed with a Netflix movie.

M. and Rose visited the roof deck garden this afternoon. Rose needed some fresh air and a piece of Nature. Her baby is due in three or four months. That will be the first cafe baby.

Kindness does not fall like rain. It comes in spurts and trickles.

Painted two cradle sides black.

In the meantime two, new cradled canvases arrived. These are for an exhibit I'm trying to put together, though it will probably take me a year or two to complete.

Yes, I'm now alternating work between the 40 paintings for Maryhill School of Theology and ten paintings for a prospective exhibit.

Love that elfin look on the courier's face.

Lunch at home with Angelique and Aubrey.

My sister Remi sends me a feng shui ring.

Good morning, Cubao!

The sun always finds its way even into the smallest kitchens.

Good night, Cubao!

The night shuts the lid on the box of day.

One Message To One Of 229 Friends, One Every Night Of The Year

You with two syllables in your name: Do not copy other people's lifestyles. Value and appreciate your own.

Asked M. to bring some food over to his cafe staff.

Night chores.

My favorite time of the day has come again: an evening shower, and then snuggling in bed with a Netflix movie.

Dinner at home with Angelique and Aubrey.

M. fried a pack of pepper beef for us.

Replenished our soda supply.

Bought a ream of ziggurats.

M. and David watered the plants in the roof deck, side balcony, and front balcony gardens.

Framed A.T.A.R.D.A.R. taladro ready for pick-up. This goes to Y, whom I will not identify.

As seen in the close-up, one of the 14 rays has a missing power word. I have that word, and I will give it only to the person who is scheduled to pick it up.

Aubrey came down and fixed herself a mid-afternoon lunch.

A cup of tea in the small loggia.

Lunch at home with Angelique; Aubrey still resting upstairs.

Slept nine hours last night.

Good morning, Cubao!

The sun dons a silk jacket emblazoned with golden dragons.

Good night, Cubao!

The philosopher's classroom is located on an upper floor, and the moon can be viewed through its windows.

One Message To One Of 228 Friends, One Every Night Of The Year

You with six syllables in your name: Joss stick burners in every corner of your house prevents transient spirits from passing through.

Dinner at home with Angelique and Aubrey.

Aubrey made mango sago again for dessert.

Brought some food over to M.'s cafe staff.

Night chores. Nino has recovered from his second vaccination shot.

My favorite time of the day has come again: an evening shower, and then snuggling in bed with a Netflix movie.

Two-hour, late afternoon nap.

January - March: the Philippine springtime. I know it because the frangipani are in full bloom. The sun is scorching but the breezes are cool. The breezes in Cubao blow in circular directions. The leaves fallen from the dragon tree go toward the main gate one second and then toward the interior of the compound the next. This is how it usually is through Easter.

Swung by the neighborhood grocery.

One-hour, late morning nap.

Staggered lunchtimes.

Had steamed crablets from one of the hawkers' stands. Yukiko Taka and Cloudy like the crunchy claws and shells.

Vernissage: Peter Is Called to Ministry and Martyrdom

Believing that they themselves will never die, the immature challenge the rules and follow the Pied Piper into the mountainside.

Looking back at the holidays, the atchays were like lemmings that raced in droves and plunged into the sea.

Good morning, Cubao!

The day spills over the sky like a blue and gray watercolor wash.

One Message To One Of 228 Friends, One Every Night Of The Year

You with three syllables in your name: Do not acquire more clothes if you will also need more closets and drawers.

Good night, Cubao!

Downspouts are gnomes' elevator systems from rooftops to the ground.

Dinner at home alone; Angelique and Aubrey ordered food from outside and are eating upstairs while watching a movie.

Asked David to bring some food over to M.'s cafe staff.

Night chores.

My favorite time of the day has come again: an evening shower, and then snuggling in bed with a Netflix movie.

Lit tea lights in the hanging, glass globes above our Bambino in the small loggia.

Had a small, mid-afternoon meal. One of the hawkers' stands had fresh agar-agar with chili, tomato, and onion in vinegar and I can't have enough of it.

M. and David watered the plants in the roof deck, side balcony, and front balcony gardens.

Now a cup of jasmine tea in the small loggia.

Swung by the neighborhood grocery.

Mike sends over four boxes of scented joss sticks.

Fame is nothing without fortune.

Staggered lunchtimes.

A strange day for me. Two tasks I love (painting and creative writing) are on my plate and appearing like hard work. I need to varnish my Peter painting and proofread the electronic layout of a book that the editor sent me before it is finally published, and I just can't get down to doing them. Must be post-booster-shot blues.

One of the objectives of childhood is to have as many pleasant memories as possible before growing into adulthood, because it is those memories that serve as a foundation for maturity.

Good morning, Cubao!

Joss stick smoke ascends to the sky and into the clouds.

We are afraid of places where people died, not of places where animals or insects died.

Good night, Cubao!

The gnomes' night market opens as soon as the household is fast asleep.

One Message To One Of 227 Friends, One Every Night Of The Year

You with three syllables in your name: Never procrastinate on organizing your things.

Dinner at home with Angelique and Aubrey.

Asked David to bring some food over to M.'s cafe staff.

Night chores.

My favorite time of the day has come again: an evening shower, and then snuggling in bed with a Netflix movie.

Hired Nino to clean the floors on our side porches, foyer, and studio foyer.

Watched all episodes of Korea's Goedam, a montage of eight, brief, urban horror vignettes. A student assaulted by a ghost in a school rest room. A taxi driver who takes on a malevolent spirit as a passenger. A video blogger with a trickster doppelganger. A stalker doll in a school locker. A student who gets run over by a truck and comes back to meet her teacher. An elevator that transforms people into shriveled cadavers. A paper talisman torn off a door, allowing evil entities to come through. A shaman who gets her just deserts after starving a girl to death, killing her, and entrapping her spirit. 

Each vignette averages only ten minutes or less. As a result, the sequences are terribly disjointed and the viewer does not know exactly what is happening and why. It is only the last episode that manages to be a complete story told in that short period of time.

I am reminded of the creative writing exercise in which one must tell the story of one's novel in six words.

Staggered lunchtimes.

Sunshine pours like wild honey on rooftops.

Good morning, Cubao!

Slept nine hours last night.

 

Feeling better and brighter.

And now, to sleep. That's all we've been doing since we received our booster shots yesterday. Sleep, sleep, sleep as though there's no tomorrow. It's such a blissful feeling.

I'm pretending I'm an astronaut in his sleep pod awaiting landing on a fantastic planet.

Watched all eight episodes of Korea's 2021 The Silent Sea.

A great drought besieges Earth due to environmental changes.

On the moon, a team of scientists perishes at Balhae Lunar Research Station. Because of a radiation leak, the station must be shut down, and so, five years later, a new team is sent to the moon to fulfill that task, but not before retrieving a secret sample they are told little about.

Once the second team is on the moon the movie takes on an eerie but lyrical quality. Despite the gray and white monochromes every sequence is visually arresting, especially because the plot takes on the characteristics of an intriguing mystery story. For starters, there is no radiation leak and the research station is in good condition. And then, the cadavers of the first team show no signs of radiation burns, but seem to indicate that they drowned to death.

It's been a long way from _2001: A Space Odyssey_, and the Asian, sci-fi mise-en-scene manages to be most convincing. You will believe that the research station is real and that you are on the moon, for the cinematography eliminates all the pretensions that previous, outer space movies chose to include.

No aliens here. Only human beings and the results of their experimentations.

She will eventually hire a gigolo to satisfy her needs. In her old age she will look back and see that it was the biggest expense she ever made in her entire life--as a matter of fact more than she ever spent on her own children.

The religious person obsessed with gold is next.

Good night, Cubao!

Lanterns hang outside the doorways to the dragon tree.

Dinner at home with Angelique, Aubrey, and Jazz.

Night chores,

My favorite time of the day has come again: an evening shower, and then snuggling in bed with a Netflix movie.

One Message To One Of 229 Friends, One Every Night Of The Year

You with three syllables in your name: Keep a notebook. Do not rely on your memory.

Lunch at home alone. Everyone else back to bed and still sleeping upstairs, and I will probably do the same in a while.

The day proceeds a page at a time.

Good morning, Cubao!

Slept nine hours last night.

We're ordering food for lunch from outside.

Good night, Cubao!

The writer authors enchanted stories about the moon.

One Message To One Of 229 Friends, One Every Night Of The Year

You with four syllables in your name: Always have a cozy hour with your family at home, be it a meal, a snack, or just hanging out and telling stories.

Night chores.

My favorite time of the day has come again: an evening shower, and then snuggling in bed with a Netflix movie.

Dinner at home with Angelique, Aubrey, and Jazz.

We all plan to sleep the whole day tomorrow.

Booster Shots

Family and household back home from our booster shots. We thank the Quezon City Government for allowing us, once again, to go to the booster shot venue as a group and take our shots together. It was so much fun that way, and all of it was a pleasant experience.

Lunch out afterward. 

Good morning, Cubao!

The clouds are planner sheets for the rest of your week.

Good night, Cubao!

The dark side of the moon stores records of your innermost secrets.

One Message To One Of 229 Friends, One Every Night Of The Year

You with four syllables in your name: Don't just ensure protection for yourself,. Ensure protection for your entire household as well.

Staggered dinnertimes.

Brought some food over to M.'s cafe staff.

Night chores.

My favorite time of the day has come again: an evening shower, and then snuggling in bed with a Netflix movie.

Always be alert to important schedules.

Talent cannot move forward without the right resources.

Yakult delivery.

Bought a ream of ziggurats.

Lazy Tuesday.

Angelique is studying for her next final exams at Jazz's, and Aubrey is resting upstairs.

One-hour, mid-afternoon nap.

An early lunch at home alone.

Happy Birthday to M.!

Gave him a bottle of liquor.

Good morning, Cubao!

The sun is a round, golden pineapple.

Watched 20th Century Fox's 2008 Mirrors (1:51:05). It's the usual, Hollywood horror story formula in which the protagonist and his family are challenged by a life-threatening force, the protagonist hunts for an antidote, the conflict leads to a spectacular climax, and the downbeat ending shows us that evil is not completely vanquished. Not quite a B movie because of a well-thought-out production design and special effects.

Ben Carson, a rehabilitated alcoholic separated from his wife and kids (yes, the stereotype protagonist) must take on a job as night security in the multi-story ruins of New York's Mayflower Department Store, which was devastated by a fire in which many died. During his rounds of the ruins he discovers that the mirrors inside the store reflect strange images, images that already caused the deaths of at least two men, and now, his sister. Very soon his wife and kids are also threatened by images in mirrors. 

Ben discovers that the site of the Mayflower was formerly a hospital, its psychiatric ward being in the basement. The mirrors instruct him to bring them Anna Esseker, a former schizophrenic patient who was 12 years old and treated with a program involving mirrors in 1952. Ben tracks down Anna Esseker to Saint Augustine Apostolic Monastery, where she is now a nun in recluse. He takes her with him to the basement of the ruins in New York.

I'd rate this movie a good screening because it was entertaining and at least did not depend on a ridiculous screenplay, but I wouldn't watch it again, and neither was my interest piqued enough to watch its sequel.

Good night, Cubao!

Night gnomes make pizza out of round, salt biscuits.

One Message To One Of 229 Friends, One Every Night Of The Year

You with two syllables in your name: Know when to be selfish at the right times. Not only does it help you survive, it also helps you progress.

Dinner at home with Angelique and Aubrey.

Brought some food over to M.'s cafe staff.

Night chores.

My favorite time of the day has come again: an evening shower, and then snuggling in bed with a Netflix movie.

One-hour, mid-afternoon nap.

Washed 26 brushes and one palette knife.

Swung by the neighborhood grocery.

Third day of Angelique's online final exams.

Angelique and Aubrey came down to lunch in the dining room.

Spent some time in the small loggia. Still dreaming of building a tree house in the dragon tree, 20 feet above the ground.

An early lunch at home alone; Angelique still resting upstairs and Aubrey off to a bank errand with Toto.

Brought Aubrey's bed linen to the compound laundry.

My mother's death anniversary (1991). Lighting candles and joss sticks at our altar/ancestral table.

Good morning, Cubao!

The clouds are white, breakfast buffet tables. 

Watched all six episodes of the first season of Japan's Tokyo Mystery Sake. A young actor (Sugino Yosuke playing himself) averse to doing a horror movie is assigned by his agent to interview a series of persons who've encountered ghosts on his radio program and visit the places they'd been to, in preparation for his starring in the lead role of a horror movie. In each location, he is required to drink sake to open his psychic senses. The subtitle word "merging" is used to refer to the meeting of his intoxication with his fear. He is served a delicious dish in the company of his agent and interviewees after he survives each adventure. A horror comedy shot like a reality show, but it does have creepy moments.

The episodes are short, averaging 20 minutes each, and the whole season can actually be watched in one, long sitting. Sugino Yosuke plays the role with such spontaneity and naivete that one can't help but watch everything through the end. The places he visits are an apartment in which a woman in white appears; a cat cemetery; a home still inhabited by a stern man in his 70s, addicted to porn magazines featuring high-school girls; a love hotel room filled with ghosts beset with yearning, especially a jealous woman; a comedy theater built on the site of an old elementary school and haunted by the ghosts of an old woman, a boy, and a girl; and a stigmatized building with a dangerous ghost on every floor (a landlady stabbed to by a tenant after an argument, a murderer who committed suicide, a middle-aged man beaten to death by his friend, who afterward hanged himself, and another tenant who jumped off the roof).

In fact, all of these places could be anywhere in the Philippines!

Good night, Cubao!

The night cafe begins pulsating with life at dusk.

One Message To One Of 228 Friends, One Every Night Of The Year

You with five syllables in your name: When something happens, good or bad, or when someone says something about you, good or bad, know how to say "So what?" and mean it.

Dinner at home with Angelique and Aubrey. Brought some food over to M.'s cafe staff.

Night chores.

My favorite time of the day has come again: an evening shower, and then snuggling in bed with a Netflix movie.

Nino moved some plants from the roof deck to my sister Alice's front porch garden.

Watered the ground-floor plants.

Nino and David watered the plants in the roof deck, side balcony, and front balcony gardens.

One-hour, early afternoon nap.

A cup of jasmine tea.

Angelique came down to lunch in the dining room; Aubrey still sleeping after her night shift.

A delivery arrived--alas, not the canvases.

Can't wait to start my first painting for a prospective exhibit, though completing a substantial number of works will take me time. But, it will be heavenly to be painting for myself again, for a change.

I remember when, several years ago, my former classmates asked me to do an exhibit for a fund-raising project. I went out of my way to do ten paintings. Unfortunately, the liaison they assigned to organize the exhibit was a lazy bum who expected me to do all the work. I had to draft letters to the art gallery, since he was neither a writer nor an impresario, and set appointments for meetings on my own. He would show up at my house close to lunchtime, perhaps expecting me to serve him meals. He would ask to see me in coffee shops and then not order anything, just sitting there and gabbing about his life in general. And then, after all of my works had been varnished, he came to the house and said he would pull them out to deliver to my former classmates--without receipts or documentation of any kind. I asked him for an update on the status of the project but he had nothing; evidently he wanted me to give HIM an update that he could then report to my former classmates. I had him leave and shut the door on him. End of project. Thankfully, I was able to sell off most of the paintings to friends.

An early lunch at home alone; Angelique and Aubrey still resting upstairs.

Waiting for the delivery of new canvases. These will be for an exhibit comprised of ten or more pieces to be mounted a year of two from now. I'm now alternating work between paintings for Maryhill School of Theology and a prospective exhibit. Serendipitously, a new novel is brewing in my mind, though I haven't gotten down to writing its first line.

Woke up 6:00 AM but stayed in bed until 8:00 AM.

Good morning, Cubao!

Sometimes it is sheer bliss to have no agenda for the day.

Live and die as a writer. Live and die as a painter. They serve you well.

Do not live and die as a teacher. You will serve not yourself but institutions, and, in the end, you will never have had the freedom to be yourself.  

Live in confidence rather than live in fear.

Good night, Cubao!

Glass doors and windows seal your house from the outside world.

One Message To One Of 228 Friends, One Every Night Of The Year

You with three syllables in your name: The industrious parent fulfills all duties and chores when no one else is looking.

Dinner at home after Angelique's last exam for the day. I ate downstairs; the granddaughters took their dinner while watching a show on a tablet in Angelique's room.

Brought some food over to M.'s cafe staff.

Night chores.

My favorite time of the day has come again: an evening shower, and then snuggling in bed with a Netflix movie. Watching something from Japan for a change.

Claimed Angelique's bed linen from the neighborhood laundry.

Washed 25 brushes and one palette knife.

Afternoon rain in Cubao.

Angelique's second day of final exams.

Lunch at home alone; Aubrey still sleeping after her night shift.

Wearing my rings again while I am still not painting.

Happy Birthday to my youngest sister, Sylvia!

Good morning, Cubao!

Red and white flowers bloom on roof deck gardens.

Good night, Cubao!

A well-decorated porch with warm lights at night always welcomes you home.

One Message To One Of 228 Friends, One Every Night Of The Year

You with seven syllables in your name: You feel dizzy and fatigued because you forget to take your vitamins.

Dinner at home with Angelique and Aubrey.

Brought some food over to M.'s cafe staff. (We are fast getting rid of our huge stash of plastic food containers.)

Night chores.

My favorite time of the day has come again: an evening shower, and then snuggling in bed with a Netflix movie.

Watched all episodes (51?) in all five seasons of Spain's Money Heist (Lacasa de papel). Gripping and suspenseful and full of surprises, the viewer has no choice but to sit back and expect the unexpected. Exposition and characterization are spread throughout the length of the movie all the way to the end, so that the viewer is incapable of making up his mind about the characters and projecting himself ten steps ahead of the story. It succeeds because, unbeknownst even to their creators, the technique is that employed by the Russian master Leo Tolstoy, and, to a certain extent, that of Boris Pasternak. That, and because the direction, cinematography, casting, and performances are excellent, showing us shot after breathtaking shot with creative angles and lighting, and the equally creative development of relationships. I also know that is extremely difficult to shoot scenes involving fire and pouring rain, and there were quite a few of them.

Sometimes interest in the plot is sustained by means of introducing complications that the characters must then immediately resolve. Wherever that is not enough to keep one's attention from flagging, nudity and sexual tension are made to take over. Unfortunately many of the scenes were redundant and were mere variations of previous scenes, making the story move two steps forward and then one step backward. This is an apparently laid-back though very expensive production, but gets long-drawn and tedious after Episode 13. Things start hopping again--and intensely--in Episode 20. That being said, the second season has a magnificent ending. As for the third, rather than function as an epilogue it brings the viewer back to Square One. It became too much of a good thing. The fourth and fifth seasons pick to a satisfying climax and denouement.

It was rather disturbing to me that the dialogue was peppered with very anti-feminist curse words and phrases such as "puta", "cono", and "la madre que te pario". Of course there was also the non-sexist "mierda", the equivalent of the American and British "shit" that students of Catholic universities have taken on as a favorite expression. Movies, indeed, influence audiences: the first thing they influence is language. I remember all too clearly how audiences kept saying "Shit" after viewing the 1976 movie Carrie. That is how the word conquered the Philippines some forty years ago. But how do we tell people that they shit because they keep stuffing their mouths with all kinds of food and drink? Shouldn't "food" then be used as a curse word as well? All these verbal obscenities convince me that no country is a Catholic country. After all, it is what comes out of people's hearts and mouths, with our without reference to what comes out of their anuses, that reflects what their religion is. 

The series, however, does preach three, twenty-first century truths: 

--for any urban setting to be paradise, it is money that must flow like milk and honey, and, despite others' poetic mooning and crooning about love and light, it is a truth that is always all too easy to prove. Movies and beautiful faces can be tedious and boring, but money never is, and never will be. 

--there is nothing as decadent as bureaucracy, and it is the clever and the creative who will bring it down. The only cheap trick I found, however, was comprising the band of heisters of "social outcasts" verging on stereotypes, but that might have been done merely to gain the audience's sympathy.

--in real life, everybody wins.

Swung by the neighborhood grocery. They now admit a maximum of only five persons.

A delivery arrived.

Angelique's first day of final exams.

Good morning, Cubao!

Day gnomes bury pots of gold in your flower garden.

Good night, Cubao!

Streetlamps mark the journeys of workers on their way home.

One Message To One Of 228 Friends, One Every Night Of The Year

You with two syllables in your name: You have to love what you do in order for it to love you back.

Dinner at home with Angelique and Aubrey.

Brought some food over to M.'s cafe staff.

Night chores.

My favorite time of the day has come again: an evening shower, and then snuggling in bed with a Netflix movie.

A gift, a friend, a foe, a lover to come, a journey to go.

Finished my Peter painting with the sixty-third glaze in half an hour. I could have completed the entire work in less than 29 days except that, two years ago, I swore that I would no longer paint after 5:00 PM because, when I did, I would go on and on through late at night and miss getting any sleep.

Aubrey came down to her mid-afternoon lunch, then Angelique and Aubrey had coffee and dessert in the dining room. 

Watered the ground-floor plants. Nino watered the plants in the roof deck, side balcony, and front balcony gardens.

Peter Is Called to Ministry and Martyrdom

Peter Is Called to Ministry and Martyrdom

Oil on cradled canvas

6’ x 4.5’

December 8, 2021 – January 6, 2022

This is a companion painting to The Pauline Letters.

Daybreak. After catching a net full of grouper, the fisherman Peter is about to turn his boat and paddle home. As he does so, he has a vision of the medieval papal crown, and the tip of his oar’s shaft takes on the image of an inverted cross.

The painting alludes not only to the miracle of the fishing nets, Peter’s calling as a fisher of men, his martyrdom, and his designation as the rock on which the Catholic church is built, but also to the later blinding of Paul of Tarsus and Constantine’s vision of the cross in the heavens.

The Galilean boat is a smaller version of the fishing boat in Christ Calming The Storm. The throat and blade of the oar, however, are not Galilean; they are a memory of the artist’s visit to Pagsanjan Falls many years ago. The halo round the papal crown was made to simulate the shape of a Tibetan ghau gau, or portable shrine, as, in The Pauline Letters, Paul’s halo is comprised of the Tibetan lotus mandala.

The auditory stimulus I used while making this painting is at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wLjEtvNe7CI. Do listen to it while viewing the painting.

Took an early lunch alone, then Angelique came down to lunch in the dining room; Aubrey still sleeping after her night shift.

Worked half an hour on sixty-second glaze.

Good morning, Cubao!

Sky fairies sew the seams between sunrise, morning, afternoon, and sunset.

Good night, Cubao!

Upper-story windows cast lambent light on the branches of the trees.

One Message To One Of 227 Friends, One Every Night Of The Year

You with seven syllables in your name: Will you live the rest of your life without telling the person you love of your love?

Dinner at home with Angelique and Aubrey.

Brought some food over to M.'s cafe staff.

Night chores.

The granddaughters are washing and organizing groceries in the kitchen.

My favorite time of the day has come again: an evening shower, and then snuggling in bed with a Netflix movie.

The Europeans and Americans should be encouraged to use face shields. I personally believe that face shields provide additional protection against the virus. So what if no one provided scientific backing for their use? Common sense is enough--the same common sense behind the use of windshields, umbrellas, window panes, caps, hats, visors, sunglasses, and motorbike helmets.

Never give gold, diamonds, and authentic jewelry to your girlfriend/boyfriend if she/he is an atchay. Atchays have no concept of what heirlooms are, and the gold, diamonds, and authentic jewelry will only end up in a pawnshop when they feel they need the money.

Asked M. to fry German franks for us.

Worked an hour on sixty-first glaze.

Worked half an hour on sixtieth glaze.

Back from jalan-jalan at the center with Angelique and Aubrey. Toto drove for us. Withdrew money at the bank, changed dollars to pesos, paid our electric and phone bills, did major groceries, and had lunch out. Sent some money to my younger son Chito.

And, how lovely--a cost of living allowance was added to my monthly pension/annuity.

Good morning, Cubao!

Love staying at home, and love your home.

One Message To One Of 227 Friends, One Every Night Of The Year

You with two syllables in your name: To motivate you to save more money within the month, assume that the following month will be a very lean one.

Good night, Cubao!

Neon lights glow like scattered jewels on wet pavements.

Dinner at home with Angelique and Aubrey.

Brought some food over to M.'s cafe staff.

Night chores.

My favorite time of the day has come again: an evening shower, and then snuggling in bed with a Netflix movie.

Aubrey came down to her mid-afternoon lunch in the dining room.

Worked an hour on fifty-ninth glaze.

Worked half an hour on fifty-eighth glaze.

Staggered lunchtimes.

Good morning, Cubao!

It takes more than a year and more than bright sunlight to decide whether you love a person or not.

Good night, Cubao!

The moon sparkles like a scrying ball when lights twinkle on its surface.

One Message To One Of 225 Friends, One Every Night Of The Year

You with six syllables in your name: When you are unable to kill the mosquito, it is because the house lizard needs to catch it for its supper.

Dinner at home with Angelique and Aubrey.

Brought some food over to M.'s cafe staff.

Night chores.

My favorite time of the day has come again: an evening shower, and then snuggling in bed with a Netflix movie.

Aubrey came down to a mid-afternoon lunch in the dining room, which is really her breakfast, since she works the night shift from home.

Worked half an hour on fifty-seventh glaze.

Swung by the neighborhood grocery. Did minor groceries.

Had a cup of Korean, convenience-store noodles.

Your Messenger message:

"Hello sir Tony, good afternoon and Happy New Year

"You were in my dream last night. I was going down a dark staircase but went back up because there was a large green spider, it was about a foot wide with long spindly legs. You seemed disappointed that I did not proceed and you went downstairs, grabbed the spider, probably killing it in the process, and slammed it to my face. I could feel the legs against my skin.. creepy, disgusting feeling. I freaked out, and screamed my lungs out. You said, 'See it's not so bad. There is nothing to fear.' "I forgot the rest of the dream, after waking up. Whew. "Hope youre having a great time, sir Tony. All my best wishes for you and your family this 2022 "

My reply:

Hello _______!

Your dream was about an albeit aborted descent to the Unconscious, a must for every creative person. In this dream you refused to confront your Shadow, represented by the spider, and I practically had to force you to face it, pun intended. No, the Shadow cannot be killed, and it will also never go away.

You will dream of your Shadow, appearing in many forms, in the future. Do not run away from it. Dialogue with it. Make it your ally. After you have done so, many wonderful changes will occur in your life.

Angelique came down to a late lunch in the dining room.

Worked half an hour on fifty-sixth glaze.

An early lunch at home alone; Angelique and Aubrey still resting upstairs.

Worked an hour on fifty-fifth glaze.

Good morning, Cubao!

The neighbors' dogs will alert you to strangers passing through.

A face shield is a SHIELD. Like a windshield, it protects your eyes, your nose, your mouth, your entire face.

Against dust. Against random breezes. Against odors. Against other people's germs.

In addition, tinted face shields provide protection from the sun the way dark glasses do.

Good night, Cubao!

House mice use discarded pincushions as throw pillows.

One Message To One Of 225 Friends, One Every Night Of The Year

You with two syllables in your name: Be aware that not everyone who asks for help really needs it.

I survived the holidays and even managed my fifty-fourth glaze this afternoon.

Jazz goes back to work tomorrow, Angelique resumes her online classes, and Aubrey resumes her work at home.

Dinner at home with Angelique and Aubrey.

Asked David to bring some food over to M.'s cafe staff.

Night chores.

My favorite time of the day has come again: an evening shower, and then snuggling in bed with a Netflix movie.

Watered the ground floor plants.

Nino watered the roof deck, side balcony, and front balcony plants.

Worked half an hour on fifty-fourth glaze.

Angelique and Jazz came down to a late lunch in the dining room.

Worked half an hour on fifty-third glaze.

Aubrey fixed herself a late lunch in the kitchen.

Worked half an hour on fifty-second glaze.

An early lunch alone; staggered lunchtimes; grandchildren still resting upstairs.

Worked half an hour on fifty-first glaze.

I love sitting inside the small loggia past midnight, smoking silently in the dark, before retiring to bed. It is always a magical time for me. The only illumination around me comes from the front porch of the compound office, two doors away, from the street lamps on P. Tuazon Boulevard, from the lighted windows of the Cyberpark buildings in Araneta Center, from the top floor of Regalia Tower across EDSA, from the upper stories of the police trainees' quarters on Camp Panopio Compound, and, of course, on clear nights, from the moon and the stars and the silver-gray clouds. Yes, I have Posted about this magical time several times before, except for the following:

I must give up this practice because it renders me an invisible man. Compound tenants reporting to night-shift work pass by, fully dressed for outdoors with backpacks strapped to their shoulders, looking like they wished they had kinder jobs. A young woman dolled up for some party pauses at the gate to wait for a taxi--where is she going and what will she be doing in the wee hours of night? Lovers hold intimate conversations, believing that only the dark can hear them. An anxious man with eyes glued to the bright screen of his cell phone paces to and fro as though hoping that someone would finally come home; he then unzips his pants and takes a leak between two parked cars in the driveway, confident that no one can see him.

Whenever these things happen I hold my breath and keep still, pretending to be a potted plant, lest they suddenly see me and think I am a ghost who has materialized in the night and come to frighten them.

Ah, my neighbors are so different in the daytime and so different at night, and they often make me wonder if I also am!

It is fundamentalism that makes every religion a religion of oppressors.

Good morning, Cubao!

Take a daytime nap and become an astral skyfarer.

Good night, Cubao!

Gnomes repurpose aromatherapy lamps as kitchen stoves.

One Message To One Of 225 Friends, One Every Night Of The Year

You with two syllables in your name: Continue saving money even after the holidays. Making this your habit will enrich you the entire year.

Staggered dinnertimes.

Night chores.

My favorite time of the day has come again: an evening shower, and then snuggling in bed with a Netflix movie.

Replenished our soda supply.

Worked half an hour on fiftieth glaze.