This Precious Time, When Time is New

I’ve been looking to the past again, probably my way of gaining insight and divining my direction for the future. I’ve been especially reflective lately, partly because I grew a conscience again, and also because I need to regain control of my life. Not that I don’t have that, it’s just that I’ve been enjoying things way too much lately. Just had some health checkups, and thankfully, there’s nothing majorly wrong. Whew.

Ah, the future. I fear you, somewhat, but you've always been here.

Blood Makes Noise

Speaking of looking back, I'm half-amazed, half-aghast at stuff I drew about ten years ago. Dhampyr, written by Alamat’s talented David Hontiveros, was something I illustrated at a time when I was feeling entirely different. I did that during a period of anxiety, and looking at it now, there are portions of it that show how restless I was back then, at least to me. I remember it was launched that Halloween, and was even featured in a short segment by the midnight show Business and Leisure (where the female voiceover pronounced it as “dam-pire” instead of “dam-peer”). It was at Synergy in Glorietta; I don’t know exactly where it used to be, but I remember that it was an arcade and the place was packed. I look at that comic book fondly; some pages surprise me now because of some technically impressive parts, while others make me cringe and wince because they look real icky and unfocused. I can admit that now, at least.

(Pic above from Budjette’s phlog)

Babes in Boyland

Again, I’m no stranger to feeling uncertain about my future, about what to do next. And even when I can say that I’ve matured in a lot of ways since then, I still feel anxious and restless once in a while.

As part of my ruminations, I’ve just been looking at old photos, writings and drawings, as well as profile pages and blogs of friends and strangers. These trigger connections to old feelings and mindsets, and I don’t know, they make me remember how good some things were back then for me. There’s almost always that realization that things may never feel the same way again, but there’s the hope that there are still things worth exploring and enjoying. I can only say so much here, and I’d rather treasure some experiences off-blog, yeah. Hah, cryptic much? Well, to quote a friend, that’s the way I’m built. Not that anyone cares, of course.

Oh, this image below was scanned off the contributors’ page of March last year’s issue of Icon. Yeah, that’s me, and I was surprised the girl at the extreme right, Ana Marie, was there too. Anyway, turns out that she’s the sister-in-law of the magazine’s editor in chief, and she wrote about a restaurant. Coolness. I’ve often wondered how some people--at least those old classmates without Friendster profiles--are doing, and how they’ve grown. She was my seatmate during fourth grade, and was really kind to me especially since I was a new student that year. I think I had a crush on her for a while. That thought kinda weirds Benedict out, because coincidentally, they have the same surname.

Two years ago, I remember him yanking me by the wrist through Club Government, that party place where Icon’s launch was held, to drop off a bunch of Lexy’s for review. Cool but crowded place, that; not at all Queer As Folk-y decadent, but I’ve only been there once, so I dunno how it’s like on normal days. Met most of the staffers there, as well as some old friends and acquaintances. Interesting crowd, too, gay boys and their faghags were dancing to the thumpa-thumpa, while some people were just milling around and looking lost (but so ready to get it on).

Hmm, I checked the archives; I wasn’t able to write about it. Must’ve been preoccupied or something. But yeah, it was also good that I was able to contribute something to the mag many months later.

Soaring Tumbling Freewheeling

Finished the two-hour pilot of Battlestar Galactica. Man, that was depressing. But the show’s actually good, except maybe for the space battle effects scenes (while technically well-rendered, they feel rather cold and drab). I hesitated to watch the next episode because I didn’t want to feel sapped, but the more bearable running time made it easier. It was tense; the human characters on the show are constantly on the run, after the deadly Cylon robot “race” eliminated billions in a barrage of nuclear attacks. It’s kinda heavy, but I’m interested to see where it’s heading.

But I didn’t get teary eyed over it at all as I did over scenes from L Word and Veronica Mars episodes that I recently watched. Sigh. Sometimes, you just feel some of these fictional people’s pain more than you do those of reality’s, which is, I know, sad and a testament to brilliance at the same time.

Shining Shimmering Splendid

Just wanted to post two paragraphs that were omitted from my published review of Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer yesterday. I’m thankful, of course, that it got printed, but because of space constraints, parts were edited out. These were the two paragraphs that were originally there, just before the last one in the edited version. Spoilerish, for those who’ve yet to see it:

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This “devourer of worlds,” Galactus, isn’t seen as the ornately armored humanoid giant, and will probably be a huge letdown to longtime comic book fans. He’s a mass of cloudy energy here, and is reduced as a one-dimensional plot device that’s supposedly holding the Surfer’s homeworld hostage. Oh, the Surfer’s cool, by the way, despite the very limited information we get on his character. He’s motion-acted by Doug Jones (who previously appeared as the fairy-munching monster in “Pan’s Labyrinth”), while Laurence Fishburne supplies his majestic voice.

The resolution is too dependent on his change of heart, however, and it doesn’t show the Fantastic Four as a force to be reckoned with. They should’ve outsmarted Galactus, but in their darkest hour, all they could do was hope that their problem gets solved for them. One member bites the dust temporarily, which sends the Surfer switching sides in the quick, oomph-free final conflict. But the team should’ve fought this climactic battle themselves, with high-tech guns and gizmos a-blazing. But we don’t see that happen. Bummer.

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