Polar Bear Colony

Brown Cows

2006-02-21T17:55:00.000-08:00

Im back from chicago. My best memory is this:

Freddie invited me to his show, "Improvidate". I took my co-worker (a dude) with me. The show's format goes like this: sketch comedy (about the dating scene) followed by an intermission in which all the single people in the audience walk around grab a drink at the bar and mingle. We are given questionares with things like "whats the best pick-up line you've heard" or "what's the most unusual place for a date" The second half is all improv based on the answers to the questions.

Sounds like a good idea for, ya know, normal, healthy people. But I'm straight awkward, yo. So before the show I start drinking in my hotel room. I catch a cab with my co-worker, who I barely know, and continue to drink from my bottle of coke zero and jack.

We get there have a drink, and enjoy the first half. Its real funny. And its weird to see your friends perform in front of an audience. It's like I'm star struck or something. As in, oh my gosh there's Freddie. I want to be with him. I think he looked at me. sweet.

Ok. Intermission. go time. The room is full of 30 something chubby white chicks. And they've been drinking. awesome. I manage to meet a few people but for some reason I'm annoyed. Maybe its the lack of carbs and the 4 drinks I've had or maybe because I feel real awks-nard right about now. Maybe its being in a room full of white folk. I got mad love for all peoples but, ya know, sometimes those issues and insecurities come up.

This girl asks, "Are you related to Freddie?" I'm like, "Why because I'm brown!?" She's all, "No no no no...its just you have the same smile." Then I'm all, "Mmm hmmm." Then she's all, "I work with Freddie at the apple store." Then her roommate and her roommate's mom come and join us. And I was like I'm outta here, I go gotta talk to some more lay-tays. peace.

I get back to my seat and I'm all worked up (loud and vulgar). I'm telling my co-worker: "Man, some girl just axed me 'Are you related to Freddie?' I'm like, 'Why because I'm brown, bitch!?' then she's all 'No no no no...its just you have the same smile.' So i was like just give me your phone number, you dumb broad. bwhahaha....fart" We have a good ol' laugh. As the second half starts I turn around and I realize she's sitting behind us.

After the show they leave right away and I scramble to find Freddie and tell him that I basically accused his co-worker of being racist. I told him the story and he's like, "Oh man, thats tight. Thats why we're friends."
Cheers, Freddie.

Been Awhile huh

2006-02-06T16:22:00.000-08:00

It's been awhile. I took almost 2 months off from working. It was great. Visited my sister in SF, spent lots of time at home, worked on the figueroa, which is nearly done.

I also started teaching at a local design college. Its exhausting. I hope I'm shaping up to be a good teacher. Its hard to tell.

So I'm back in Chicago. Its cold. And there's lots of putis. Good thing Freddie's here. My dad got sick right before I left. It didnt sound good. Turns out he has this viral infection similar to chicken pox. It's real painful and strangely effects only one side of the body. It could be real dangerous. I spoke to him the other day on the phone. Its a strange thing. As a minister for our church, he's real charismatic and amiable. He's a loud guy. It's strange to hear him reduced to a whisper; hearing a tremble, when I used to hear him rumble. For a few moments the world is inverted, nahmean? Knowing your parents aren't invincible is a sobering thing. I've been having dreams about my dad.

My mom left a message saying that my dad's feeling better. Apparently the virus is past its acute stage. So he just has to wait it out and manage the pain. He sounded a bit better, when we spoke last. So we'll just wait and hope it'll soon pass.

I went out to this fancy restaurant to have dinner with the client. It was aiiighht. Waiters were kinda snooty but we ordered hella food. The client, this ad agency director, is a big dude. Looked kinda like tank abbot from ufc, but with more tattoos. He was real fun tho. Kept talking about comic books.

I found this bouldering pit in the city. Its pretty small, and hidden away in the basement of this gymnastics academy. The people I met there were real nice and easy to talk to. The pit was kinda ghetto but in a charming way. I hung with Freddie at my hotel's pool. He tried to teach me how to swim. Was not pretty. Later we met up with nina and her friends for korean food. That was pretty fun.

Line Check and fine-ass pixels

2005-12-15T13:13:00.000-08:00

On cyber-stalking girls on myspace

Me: I dunno what she looks like. The jpeg is too small.
Nato: Dude, you can can tell if a girl is attractive no matter how small the image is.
Me: Really?
John: Yea like, man, those pixels are fiiiine.

Then we digitally zoomed in on some more jpegs. *sigh*

true.

Corn, Cheese, and the Force (of love)

2005-12-01T17:23:00.000-08:00

I was home a few weekends ago to help pack up stuff into the new house. My mom and I were in my old room, which, after I left home, became my grandmother's room until she passed away. My Mom showed me a piece of paper she had found folded into my grandma's journal. It was an essay I wrote nearly 7 years ago. It was my personal statement used to apply to the design program at UCLA. It took me 3 tries to get into that program...and this essay was from my last attempt.

I read it and felt immediately embarrassed. It seemed so corny and optimistic. Did I really feel like that when I was 20? God, its so cheesy. How did Granny even find this...I don't even have a copy of this anymore. I quickly put it away.

My Mom was beaming. I left the room to go poo. A poo of shame.

Last night I shared this story with John and Connie. I told them about the corn, cheese, and general embarrassment I felt. Connie said, ya know, your grandma probably thought that was really special, and in her old age, to read something so idealistic and passionate really meant something to her. When you wrote that you were just being honest, right? She prolly treasured it. Or she would use it for a good laugh before going to bed.

Man, word life.

John then told us about how he was cleaning out his brother's room and found his old storm trooper action figure. He ran to his room and showed it us. That's tight too, yo!

Corn

2005-11-30T01:54:00.000-08:00

A couple weekends ago John and I had our first shoot for our new project. Many thanks to Miles, Noelle, and Miles' grandma for all their help.

LAW-dee daw-dee

2005-11-21T22:44:00.000-08:00

This woman you see here is my sister. She just passed the California bar. She a proper lawyer, yo! We are all proud. Congratulations to her. You did, dude! You rock harder than my abs! Now thats hard.

Now here's a quote from Tom Cruise in "A Few Good Men":
"You and Dawson, you both live in the same dreamworld. It doesn't matter what I believe. It only matters what I can prove. So don't tell me what I know, or don't know. I know the LAW. "

Thats tiight. Too bad he's a crazy gay. Again, congrats, happy.

Shooting in a lynwood garage

2005-10-26T18:32:00.000-07:00

A conversation with a freelance producer and Art Director

2005-10-26T18:17:00.000-07:00

So today I wore a sweater over a white undershirt. It gets hot in the office space they have me in so I start to peel off my sweater. Just then the new slightly annoying producer walks in, sweater only half off.

Blonde freelance producer: Whoa.

Me: Huh?

BFP: Um, ch---, why are you so dark?

Me: I'm filipino that how we are.

BFP: No, but you're really dark.

My art directer walks in.

AD: Chiaow! What are you showing off, ch---?

Me: It gets hot in here! And this sweater is chaffing.

AD: You're really dark.

Me: You wont believe this, but my pants are chaffing too.

true...cept for that last part

Juan Carlos part II

2005-10-04T17:13:00.000-07:00

So I was hit on. Hit on by a gay.

I'm in the bay area visiting my family and friends. A couple days ago, my siblings and i go into Villains on Haight to do some shopping. This creepy asian dude with dark glasses and high hair is looking at me. And I mean, looking HARD. I'm thinkin, uh oh maybe he's a narc and thinks I stole something. I DO look, ya know, THUG. He crosses my path a few times very deliberately, each time with an intensity I can feel through his glasses. And I swear I felt the back of his hand graze my muscular thighs as he squeezes by me though one of the aisles. Im thinking Okay Okay... maybe he's checking for stolen "goods". But my jeans are quite fitting, so as to highlight my thighs, my one beauty. As I make my way towards the dressing room he stops me.

Creepy Asian Dude: (almost whisper soft) Hey how's it goin.

Me: (nervous) Hey man.

CAD: You go to SF State?

Me: Oh. Nah man.

CAD: Oh cause you look familiar

Me: Oh. Yea I didn't go there.

(He introduces himself to me...i forget his name. I need an adult I need and adult)

CAD: So you go to school here?

Me: Nah, I graduated awhi--

CAD: So what are you doing in town?

Me: Just visiting some fam--

CAD: How long you in town for?

Me: Monday or Tuesday.

CAD: Where you from?

Me: Los Angeles.

CAD: Im from Singapore.

Me: cool.

CAD: You know the Castro fair is today. There's alot of good shops and fashion around there. Did you go?

Me: Um. nah, man.

CAD: (still with his dark glasses on) So what do you do anyway?

Me: I'm a designer. I--

CAD: Fashion!?

Me: Nah, I do graphic design.

CAD: Oh...hmm...You gotta a website?

Me: Nope.

CAD:(creepy laughing in disbelief) You do graphics and you dont have a website? HA HA ha ha...

Me: Well I--

CAD: You got email?

Me: Um, ye--

CAD: Can I have it?

Me: Sure. Its changeinspeak@yahoo.com

(Im playin, Drew)

Me: Nah. Man

CAD: Oh. heh heh. Well have a good day. (touches my arm)

Man. Weird. Not that I have any real problem with gays, but dag, if your tryna holler at someone like me, who is so obviously out of your league, take off the damn shades, paht-nah! And stop fockin interupting me! AND be cuter. TRUE.

A conversation between me and an executive producer

2005-09-28T11:21:00.000-07:00

My ep is a large white man with a booming voice and the no-nonsense attitude of a high school coach. But he can also be quite humorous and witty. He has the grizzly bear charm that seems to make women feel safe. But at the same time, has a gruff bluntness that frustrates them as well. One day I seem him wearing a zip-hoodie with the logo of the “eskrima/kali academy reseda, ca” on back. Its opened revealing a white t-shirt stretched across his barrel chest and tremendous belly.

Me: Hey so do you still practice kali and eskrima?

Ep: Yea yea. You Filipino?

Me: Yea.

Ep: So you must know it?

Me: Not really.

(Talks about how great kali and eskrima are. He talks for a while about the intricacies of the art, the culture and history, the practicality.)

Ep: You know, sticks are the perfect weapon. Not like nun chucks, which are hard to control. But anything can be a weapon. Like this sweater.

(He picks up a sweater and demonstrates a chokehold on one of the other designers.)

Ep: See.

Me: Yea yea totally.

Ep: So do you do the squat where you talk and smoke cigarettes. Yea those old guys all do it. Man, they’re something. They’re so fast.

Me: Heh heh…yea

Ep: So do you carry a knife?

Me: Um…no. I live in mar vista. I don’t rea--

Ep: I do. I’m not carrying it today. You should go to some of the classes…I can show you some moves out in the back. I have a mat in my office

Me: Why do you have a mat in your office?

Ep: They were using it for a shoot. I asked if I could have it and they gave it to me.

Me: Oh…maybe later.

Labor Day

2005-09-27T18:14:00.000-07:00

I drove around the neighborhood of my hometown. A once booming dairy town, many livestock pens and farms still remain. There’s one farm across from the stater bros. I stoop through a barbed wire fence to catch some shots of the field and workers. One is napping in the shade behind me. An old Asian woman in a rice hat and a machete is chopping down these tall leaves. She doesn’t see me.

Two men in the distances are hunched over. One sees me and waves at me to approach. I hesitate, thinking that I’m trouble. He keeps waving me in. He seems friendly so I go ahead and walk through the field. I squat down to greet them. They are both smiling and welcoming.

The first man introduces himself (in broken English) first and last name, and shakes my hand. I tell him my first and last name and (in broken Spanish) explain I’m a student of photography. He responds with “orale” and asks if I like farming. I say I do. He then goes on to describe the vegetables in each row. He is talkative and friendly. The other man is older and shy. I ask to take his picture. He politely refuses showing me his hands. They are dirty and I think he feels embarrassed. We talk for a while and I snap a few photos. The younger man continues to talk about vegetables and work. He asks me a lot of questions, especially what I like about farming. I explain I like the colors and also I like salad.

The other man listens to us. He adds a few comments when he feels like it. But mostly he listens. The woman with the machete sees us and is yelling something, first at the napping man and then at us. I ask is she’s a friend of theirs. They say, “No…chino”. “Jefe”? I ask. They nod, “Si, jefe” I thank them and walk back. The woman is waiting for me. She says something I don’t understand. I smile and say, I’m sorry. She smiles too and walks back to the tall leaves.

Fotografia

2005-09-27T18:04:00.000-07:00

I've been working on this photo essay for Nato's newly formed creative collective "line check". It first started out as a journal of my summer, comparing LA, Chicago, NY. But it has evolved to be more of a meandering statement about my place in LA.

It is a contradiction; a place at once brimming with optimism but full of dark places; a place that feeds your vanities and insecurities at the same time. It feels open and new and shiny and empty. A place of solitude and community.

So lately, my photo excursions have been aimed at finding subjects that allow me to express this dichotomy and explore this tension and hopefully find…something.

Part of this project is a small collection of portraits. It is of the owners of thrift shops I go to, field workers from the small farms in Ontario (my home town). Strangers. I guess it’s my attempt at creating a community, albeit an imaginary one, in a place that can make you feel so alone.