My Life As A Stray Dog

My grandfather once told me that dogs can't see color. I felt kind of sad. I can't imagine not seeing color. Color meant so much life.

So I pretended I was a stray dog and roamed around for a bit.

Catch Of The Day

Catching a bunch of kids with the catch of the day.

"You're so different."

I don't know why I get that all the time. I always thought I'm just like everyone else. I like dogs, bungy jumping, the smell of baking bread, caffeine, books, photographs like most people.

I guess maybe I'm just everyone's recessive trait.

Today

Swirling Through Pinholes

With my new Diana Mini hanging jauntily around my neck, I stepped through my front door with much vigor like Don Quixote taking to the windmills.

Anything that moves, sitting still, or just about anything that's within frame could be a masterpiece. The thing with pinhole cameras, you really don't expect much and you'd be lucky to get good enough shots in a roll.

So after standing giddily at the Fuji film shot to get my scans, I was quite surprised to find that most of my shots turned out to look like watercolor amateur paintings! Blurry, wavy, and less than perfect, this must be what it's like to capture a dream.

Heeee....

Hammocks are made for lazy afternoons like this.

One of the biggest sows I've seen so far.

Double exposing a playful puppy with some flowers. A poppy then? Hah!

Ati dancer at the Baragatan Festival 2011.

Another costumed wonder. 

Life In 50 Hours

Life is made up of moments and just enough film to capture it.

Lazy afternoon spent in Nagtabon Beach -- a secluded stretch of white sand and pristine waters an hour outside Puerto Princesa, Palawan by motorbike.

Writing my name on shores is a compulsion. Perhaps it's the knowledge of tides and how they take everything back to sea.

Stuffing backpacks in the shadows.

Slow boat ride to Mangingisda Port.

Nietzsche

Reposted from TheCuriousBrain