why so sad mr. tambourine man? just sing, and somebody will listen.
colon st., cebu city, october 2012
Tuesday, November 27, 2012
Thursday, November 08, 2012
threesomes is the theme...
...because 3 is an odd number. a collection of old photos from my photo archive, in which threesomes seem to be a recurring theme.
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shy guy, ayala center cebu, november 2009
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wanted: playmate, burnham park, baguio, april 2012
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wer na u? here na me, cebu business park, october 2009
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looking away, at the foot of the marcelo fernan bridge, mactan, cebu, september 2008
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it sucks to be the 3rd wheel...
especially when you have legs of stone, and you have no choice but to stay...
taken at the family park, tacloban city, leyte, february 2010
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shy guy, ayala center cebu, november 2009
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wanted: playmate, burnham park, baguio, april 2012
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wer na u? here na me, cebu business park, october 2009
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looking away, at the foot of the marcelo fernan bridge, mactan, cebu, september 2008
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it sucks to be the 3rd wheel...
especially when you have legs of stone, and you have no choice but to stay...
taken at the family park, tacloban city, leyte, february 2010
filed under:
baguio,
cebu,
observations,
photo essays,
photography,
surreal,
tacloban,
walking around,
wanderlust
Wednesday, November 07, 2012
the need to feel safe
filed under:
cebu,
colon,
observations,
photography,
surreal,
the street,
walking around
Tuesday, November 06, 2012
somewhere behind the gravestone
i found it a bit funny at first, seeing folks knock on their deceased loved one's gravestone once they arrive or just before they leave...
as if one were knocking on the door of somebody's house, or somebody's room...
but looking at it closer, you realize that knocking is a physical act
like the deceased loved one was just behind the gravestone, listening to you
as if by your simple act of knocking the dead would be made alive again, reclaiming the beloved dead from death itself, denying death its power.
at the mandaue city public cemetery, november 2012
as if one were knocking on the door of somebody's house, or somebody's room...
but looking at it closer, you realize that knocking is a physical act
like the deceased loved one was just behind the gravestone, listening to you
as if by your simple act of knocking the dead would be made alive again, reclaiming the beloved dead from death itself, denying death its power.
at the mandaue city public cemetery, november 2012
filed under:
cebu,
death,
observations,
photo essays,
photography,
surreal
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