Tuesday, July 22, 2008

The Things You Do When You're Hired

Thanks to Redg for all the pictures below, which I stole from her Multiply site. Over the last few weeks she has been diligently documenting the activities of Hired's staff at and outside work.

At Ballet Manila's rehearsal studios: Mon, Redg, Regie, Tinz, and I, behind the scenes of the Ballerina search.

A fitting celebration at Cafe Rallos after the wrap of the Ballerina series shoot. Redg in pink.

The Beatles? The i-Witness hosts? Not likely. Tinz, April, Karl, Alvin, myself, and Mon.

At Disney's birthday party (Cafe Rallos) - me, Redg, the birthday boy, Tinz, Mariz, and Jes.

Food at last! We were starving after the shoot.

Belting out a duet with Mariz. I think it was Bakit Ngayon Ka Lang.

On khon, jamming with Tinz a.k.a. Sitti Astals.


Singing with April.

We obviously love to sing.

At Starway videoke place with Regie, Jes, Redg, Mariz, and VJ search winner, Greggy.

April (in pink jacket) not one to miss out on the action.

The Dancing Queen mania lives!

Ballerina fever - Karl, me, April, Mon, Regie, and Jes.

Pose like a danseur.

Ballet rocks!

On location at Vivere Hotel where we shot some sequences of the VJ search.

At Greggy's victory party - Redg, me, Jes, April, Pael (runner up), Tinz, Mon, Mariz, Karl, and Disney.

The originals - haha! - contemporaries in MTK!: Mon, me, and Regie.

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The Chronicler's Creed

Where there's water and sun, where there are friends to see or new people to meet, where there's something new to learn, experience, or do, where there's life, there I will be.

LA POESÍA

Y fue a esa edad... Llegó la poesía
a buscarme. No sé, no sé de dónde
salió, de invierno o río.
No sé cómo ni cuándo,
no, no eran voces, no eran
palabras, ni silencio,
pero desde una calle me llamaba,
desde las ramas de la noche,
de pronto entre los otros,
entre fuegos violentos
o regresando solo,
allí estaba sin rostro
y me tocaba.

And it was at that age... Poetry arrived
in search of me. I do not know, I do not know where
it came from, from winter or a river.
I do not know how or when,
no, they were not voices, they were not
words, nor silence,
but from a street I was summoned,
from the branches of night,
abruptly from the others,
among violent fires
or returning alone,
there I was without a face
and it touched me.

- An excerpt from LA POESÍA (Poetry) by Pablo Neruda