A placeholder post.
We’re trying to get back. Thanks.
I remember my grandfather, who died twenty years ago today.
Someday, I too will die.
But for now, there’s a lot left to do. Who knows when, however, death will come?
I have to keep that in mind. Because that ultimately keeps me on my toes.
It’s hard to believe, but one consequence of a recent diagnosis and a treatment for it is that I’m no longer able to do one thing I was doing a year back: stay at something, whether an event or gig, really late. It forces me to learn how to say no, and to confront my unreasonable fear of missing out.
It’s unreasonable given my own role in the scheme of things. I could be a chronicler but the best ones are eyewitnesses, which I could no longer be. But it is up to me to tell those stories, and sometimes I may have to tell them in other ways. It starts with a piece I’m finishing on a band that just launched an album.
But for now, I can’t regret what I did for love, to quote my other favorite song from A Chorus Line.
UPDATED (25 September 2016): Overhauled this post.
It was in 2011 when a gig organizer told me in an interview about an organization called the UP Underground Music Community, whose gig series was initially meant to showcase bands from that group. It turns out that I had an encounter with some of their folk even before that, thanks largely to singer/songwriter nights when one or two of their members would play. But I did know a bit about Ang Bandang Shirley, one of their bigger acts.
During what I call the 2012 Research Intensive in Independent Music with music researcher Monika Schoop, I became aware of that generation of UP Underground members who would play a role in my life beyond music. There, I met some people whom I would consider inspirations and friends.
I cannot really claim to be an expert on who the UP Underground Music Community is, or what they are really about. I can only see the effects of the work they’ve fostered on me and on many others. However, I will speak about the three things they value as an organization, and how I have seen them lived out for myself.
The first is respect. It shows in how they acknowledge the diversity of each other’s music, interests, and personalities. It is clear in how they value time and make sure other people’s time is respected, especially in the way they organize their gigs.
As an excursus, I can surmise that the community, or at least some of them, are aware of the roles different people play in the music scene. As the literature notes, these roles are not only those of musicians and audiences. Their Shoot Lo-Fi competition incorporates the work of young filmmakers whose work has become vital in putting local music in newer contexts. And their extensive work as event and gig organizers puts them in another key place in any music scene.
Brotherhood, or to use a French word, fraternite, has to do with how they relate to each other within that community. The ties that form between different generations of members is noticeable. But I have also seen this as being a leaven for fostering camaraderie not only within their circles but also beyond, a force for making connections between people possible.
I placed music last because it is what stands out. Their relative diversity, given the resources to which they have access as musicians, is what has impressed me. From the indie pop sensibilities of Shirley, to the urban electronic work of Arigato, Hato, to the folk and new country-inspired sounds of Ourselves the Elves and The Sun Manager, and to many others I’ve seen or heard, they have been able to express some of their passions and stories, some of which resonate with my own.
As their anniversary approaches, I am grateful to them for being that place where I could see the nexus between art and friendship, as a force drawing people together. I was glad to visit UP Underground Music Community’s anniversary event last Saturday, 24 September 2016, and was once again reminded of how these values were lived out. It is my hope that they will continue to grow and thrive as their fifteenth full year begins.
Yesterday and today, I have been making plans to go on retreat. I have been meaning to for some time now, as I had not gone on one for five years. It will be longer as a result, and this will mean a huge radio silence from here.
The choice of date I had made reflected the desire to learn something I will need in the time to come. But most of all, I wanted to learn how to experience solitude, to be at peace with myself and with everything else. I also feel that the monastic in me would be better off being separated from all in order to be united to all, as the Desert Fathers and Mothers taught and lived. There is no fear of missing out when one believes that.
I have yet to get a final schedule for the retreat, so for now, we wait.
A year ago today, three videos were launched at Route 196, and here’s one of them:
I will have more to say about the experience of making these videos and how it did force me to confront some things, but here’s a coda to this whole story.
Autotelic just released a music video for its single “Gising,” and it was launched nearly a year after the video posted above. It was a happy coincidence that the female lead in “Gising” happened to be a former member of Ballet Philippines and was in the same batch as the female lead in “Unstable,” Denise Parungao. When I told her about our role in the project, she told me that she had seen the video a large number of times. And when Autotelic, which happened to be playing at the time, broke into “Unstable,” we were trying to do our favorite steps from the first part of the video.
I’m actually glad someone watched this for the dancing.
One thing we must put out there was that part of this reason the project came about was to let people know that, at the least, they need to understand the needs and concerns of loved ones confronting mental illness. Not long after we wrapped production, I saw that it hit close to home.
It is hard to talk about it publicly now, but I think it is safe to say that I discovered something about myself, found out how I could be helped, and more importantly, in fits and starts, discovered that there were a whole number of people who are ready to care, and yes, love, and that I can love and care for them too as I am able.
That’s all for now.