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migrants' maps

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Aristotle believed. . . . the regions centered around the equator - too hot to be inhabited - he dubbed them the torrid zones.  We know them today as the tropics - both share the equator as one of their boundaries.  The north torrid zone extends to the Tropic of Cancer. The south reaches the Tropic of Capricorn. visit the equator Asia on fire this summer - or whatever season it is for torrid and horrid. A difference of one letter - symbolizing one state of being and another. When temperaments rage - ranging from overly heated to dreadful horror. The torrid horrid tropics - halving the earth through the middle, cutting through eleven terrestrial territories. From Saharan desert to tropical rainforest - all bound around the equator. The tropics account for thirty six percent of earth's land mass  -  home to about a third of the world's people. Broken and breaking -  away and apart from heart and humanity.  Arid, acrid, acid - sour, angry, bitter - caustic, corroding, eroding.  Ea

a gem of a place

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Just before the midterm elections the winds of change blow through the streets of the quaint city of Hudson, New York . 711 Warren Street to be exact, in the seat of Columbia County – now home to Vintage Black Label , the brand of GregUrra . signature VBL worn by Greg Urra Vintage Black Label is one of the few non-consignment vintage stores in New York, allowing shoppers to experience a collection from a lifetime of travel to souks, bazaars, flea markets and antique fairs around the globe. Each  piece is carefully curated by Greg to appeal fluidly across all genders. artist drop cloth inspired kimono - a Greg Urra & Charles Lahti collaboration

alchemy

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Is it so hard to accept that a person can actually prefer to be solitary? Solo? Alone? You would think it would be the saner choice. We’ve watched couples – even among the best – they all compromise.  Is there ever such a thing as equals? A balanced relationship? Two individuals – independent? Interdependent? Committed to each other? If it exists it has yet to manifest.  Fantasy Creatures Tarot Eastern and western culture seem so definitive about roles. Though no one can seem to agree on what exactly these roles entail. Child. Adult. Parent. Spouse.  How do we interact? We can’t even agree on these roles. What are they for each individual? One, either or both. It’s hard enough to know oneself. Thoroughly. Fully. Completely.  To be together. Wholly with another? Not one and the other? Is there such a thing as mutually surrendered? At the same time or in turns?  I love you – you love me. All that it is. No – I love you as much as you love me. Conditional conditions. Collaborative collabo

Bugal sang Bacolod & Broadway | Lydia "LydLyd" Gaston

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Long before Lea Salonga became the global poster child for Filipino performers, we had  Lydia Gaston  as our  bugal sang Bacolod [pride of Bacolod]. Syempre, we mean Lyd-Lyd - the daughter of Tita Lydia .  Lydia "LydLyd" Gaston   Many now know  Lydia Gaston as Jokoy's mom , Tita Susan - in the Fil-Am comedian’s upcoming movie,  Easter Sunday   - slated for release this August.  Easter Sunday official trailer - Universal Pictures

hidden trove

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Mom tells us about her mom, our amah - leaving her family in China to come to the Philippines to marry angkong , her dad and our grandfather. She speaks of their love letters, written in the most beautiful calligraphy.  According to amah, these letters contained their courtship. Lyrical descriptions of his adventures and challenges. Scholarly texts he'd read and deep thoughts generated. Insights and inspiration angkong intimately shared with amah.  Though they spoke it fluently none of their children could read and write in Chinese characters. So they listened avidly as their mother read them her treasured love letters. She kept them in a locked camphor chest. Part of a set of four that came with her as her dowry.  antique Chinese camphor chest or baul Years later we would dig through these exotically carved trunks which we called ba-ul s . These depicted in meticulous detail life in ancient China before Mao's communist revolution. 

true love

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What is belief but faith lived and experienced. A testament to what we believe. What we feel we are worthy of in this world.  Ages ago at university we had a nearby watershed we could easily escape to. Minutes away from campus and an overcrowded metropolis we are under cavernous canopies of mist fed giant ferns and cushions of moss blanketing the ground.  In the pounding spray of the waterfall we drop our cares as we peel off into crystal cold pools. Wading wet and wild through shadowed trails and streams. Heat and sweat cooling off in the chill damp air.  Trailing off from the others in our private bubble - closing in, touching, breathless. 

impUNITY

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We recently commemorated the 125th death anniversary of a fallen hero. Betrayed and sold out by his fellow guerillas in the fight to birth a new nation. Out of the ashes of the Spanish American war in the Philippines much is left devastated and traumatized.  The tragedy of a multi colonized land. Invading armies descend on our shores to ransack and ruin all. For an agricultural archipelago and economy it means people starve and easily turn on each other. Leading to decades of ingrained crab culture.  generational trauma  -  ties that bind War is an angry ugly horror. Kill or be killed. Nowhere to run or hide. Too many innocents caught in the crosshairs. The toll so cripplingly heavy generations are totally derailed.  It doesn't just change the behavior of both winner and loser - our DNA is forever altered. Carrying the carnage in blood and bones. In muscle memory. In ruined digestions tuned acidic with fear and lack. Sleep loss and nightmares. Dodge and cower in constant chaos and