I stared at the text message on my phone for a while, thinking, how indeed? My boyfriend and I had earlier made spur-of-the-moment plans for dinner. Now he finally made his presence felt shortly past midnight, when he called to say that he had forgotten and had let himself get dragged off by his mates to a boisterous going-away party. Throughout the night I had gone past annoyance when he didn’t pick me up from work, to anger when he wasn’t answering texts, to worry when he wasn’t picking up his phone, then back to anger when I hung up on him. Continue reading →

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I dated an artist, not so long ago. And by artist, I mean progeny to a legendary professor at a top University of Fine Arts in the Philippines, borne from a long line of artists, surrounded by a myriad of friends, all of which are artists. In short, the stereotypical artist.

When we first met, our discussion stumbled upon what we believed to be greatest art works of all time. We went from Dali’s painting of “The Persistence of Memory”, Matisse’ “Flowers of St. Henri”, Cezanne’s painting of “Still Life” to American Pop-Culture portrait paintings. For a minute the artist’s name escaped both our memory banks. At that time we found it comical to forget, amongst others, the central figure of Pop-culture, household name to our generation. And just like in the movies, as if on-queue we blurted out his name in chorus, “Andy Warhol”.  That moment, sparks flew and the rest was history. Continue reading →

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