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Kinutil Perfect is not what things are. But they are not even half as bad as how things were in 1986 when we gathered in the streets to put a final end to Marcos’ martial law. It…
The end result of freedom is chaos.” This is a continuing topic of discussion in the class of art history I am teaching. It is a continuing discussion, of course, because the veracity of the assertion cannot…
There is a wall along Escario St. famous in Cebu City for being some sort of freedom wall. Graffiti artists paint on the wall their art, layers upon layers of it. The art is continually changed and…
Kinutil One has to be slow with making judgements about the Kidapawan incident where one protestor was reportedly killed and several injured in the clash between police and protestors on the national highway. Several narratives are coming…
The early evening Good Friday drive back to the city from their old hometown was made memorable by a red moon rising from the hills. Blood-red orb peeking through the silhouette of coconut trees; it looked huge…
Kinutil It was a wonderfully enjoyable circus. And it was even more enjoyable at the fringes, in the streets, where the candidates supporters gathered trying to outdo each other with their numbers and the amount of noise…
Kinutil Identity is a big issue for local artists. As it should be. In the 1970s, there was the common assertion that Philippine art was derivative and too affected by the West, especially American art. This assertion…
Good essays are supposed to address everyone. Let’s let him write a bad one, something to seem like a personal address to a particular someone out there he hasn’t seen for quite a long time. This is…
Kinutil He wonders: What would I do if my children should say to me: The years of martial law were the golden years of the Philippines? I would certainly feel quite a bit of pain. But I…
Kinutil Change is a sacred word. Especially for those of us who came of age in the 1970s. Who lived through the monstrosity that was martial law and made it through to 1986 when we thought the…
There was a particular way they both entered into each others’ lives. And as is often the case with these things, they hardly noticed each other until they were finally there. They entered into each other’s lives…
We all began with stone. That is, if we look at us, craftspeople, as a planetary collective. Take one stone harder than another; use the harder stone to shape the softer one. And, voila!: the adze, the…
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