I just visited the HermitQ's adobe abode (haha! if it only it were!) and was reminded about another epiphany. The fascination I currently have over poetry and avant-garde or even modern poetry is all the rule-breaking. Stanzas are being cleaved into two; rhythms are subsumed into nonsense; chaos for chaos' sake is scrambled into an omelette. But WHY?

I believe it is to see the world anew. To release the poet or the poems that are stewing, crying to be freed from the soul. Initially, poetry was a creative process free from inhibition. With the advent of academia, it became a box to be measured with respect to its greatness and beauty. (Insert Robin Williams' "Master, my master" scene from "Dead Poets Society" for full effect) So, to see flowers reborn, to hear birds sing anew, and to live life robustly the rules must be abandoned. The narrative must become something else.

This applies to my current work in photography. For the last six or seven years, I have been trying to capture the Filipino soul by photographing Philippine folk dancing. I have reached a moment of pause in which I believe that journey is over. Now, I must find a new passion which will allow me to explore Filipin@ identity. In order to do it, I believe I must create chaos from order. Sense from chaos. Beauty from nonsense.

have you ever tried to hold desire in the palm? it is nearly impossible to contain for it trickles through your fingers like melting ice in a navel. the harder the desire the greater the flow of melted lemon from the column of flesh. let go of desire and the palm remains wet from the dew in the breath of a dream. desire remains ingratiated into the skin whatever you do.