Night falls

I am on the bus to the Fort. For reasons that were decided upon at the last minute–actually, while I was at the offices of a media firm–I decided that my itinerary this busy Thursday night would not involve something that I thought I would be watching. I may change my mind about that, though, but the itinerary was for work reasons.

(Incidentally, a pet peeve: at rush hour, the Bonifacio Development Corporation’s bus line charters buses from another company, and their buses are barred from entering McKinley Road. This adds much more time to what would otherwise be an express route, as they pass through EDSA at one of the worst times to be there.)

My first thought is that, obviously, my choice would let certain people down. But I do have to let them know. Secondly, I am continuing to learn one valuable thing–we do have to be accountable for our choices. Maybe I will learn more from tonight than I otherwise would. We will have to justify, and if need be, apologize. It is better to seek forgiveness than to ask for permission.

However, I have no regrets about missing an exhibit opening or two. I wrote in my journal back in Baguio about something I thought about when I was reevaluating my life: “I think that maybe subsisting on cocktails may be bad for my spiritual health.” Especially if these are cocktail parties celebrating artists whose work has been, in my honest opinion, celebrated beyond what is necessary because they made it possible for visual art to lose its ties to the people, and gain closer ties to the unstable and messy market. (There, I said it.)


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