PILAR NEREIDA

the everyday exploits and bursts of ideas from a twenty-something beatnik

Archive for the tag “stories”

Life with Indica, Karma & Orka.. .

It was late 2006 when I found out about Lomography through the people I met in my random trips everywhere, and what drew me to it was the diverse range of cameras it offered – from the Supersampler, Fisheye, LC-A, Holga, Diana, Action Sampler etc. The different outcome of it’s photos was just so interesting and fun that it only took a millisecond for me to decide to get one. At first I really wanted to get an Action Sampler or a Frogeye only because I felt that it suited my ‘active’ lifestyle back then, with the occasional trips to the mountains, beaches and all. But it was only in 2008 that I got to buy my first lomo camera, a Holga 120CFN which I named Indica II (after Indica I, my now defunct Canon EOS 350D back in college), what I liked about the Holga was that it had a lot of options, from multiple exposures to the splash of colors you want in every picture – it was such a f***ing experiment! The only problem I had with my Holga was that it uses a 120mm film which was not available everywhere and was quite more expensive than the usual films in camera shops, so you either had to know a local ‘film pusher’ or order it online. But the complication doesn’t stop there because camera shops within my city didn’t process such film format, so you had to ship it to Manila and wait for it to be delivered into your home (and you could just imagine my excitement while waiting for my first batch of films to be delivered!).

self-portrait (first attempt with Holga 120CFN)

self-portrait (first attempt with Holga 120CFN)

Einstein, Kidlat's pit bull (Holga 120CFN)

Einstein, Kidlat’s pit bull (Holga 120CFN)

the now defunct Junkshop Collective Store (Fisheye1)

art at the Junkshop Collective (Fisheye1)

Intramuros, Manila (Fisheye1)

Intramuros, Manila (Fisheye1)

graffiti at Intramuros (Fisheye1)

graffiti at Intramuros (Fisheye1)

MIng Tombs, China (Fisheye1)

Ming Tombs, China (Fisheye1)

mi bellas (Holga 120CFN)

mi bellas Bohol trip (Holga 120CFN)

But my love for lomography didn’t stop with the Holga 120CFN, fastforward a few years later in 2011 my partner-in-crime Kidlat surprised me with a Diana F+ and a Fisheye2. Finally, I had my own Fisheye and didn’t have to borrow my friend Le’s Fisheye1, which I took with me to several trips. And then there was the Diana F+ which also offered a lot of options for shooting, and these new babies I named Karma (Diana F+) and Orka (Fisheye2). Aside from the sporadic shoots here and there, it was also great meeting new people who share the same interest in Lomography when my friend Kate asked me to join Analog Cebu (a group of Lomo enthusiasts in the city who are a lot more dedicated and 100x more talented than yourstruly). Although I am not very much active in the group, I still learn a lot from them and get inspired to shoot more everytime I see their posts and pictures. With the many lomo cameras still available out there, I don’t think that I’d stop at 3 cameras though – still thinking hard and saving up for the next lomo purchase. I’m definitely not a pro at taking pictures with these babies and don’t plan to take it to such a serious level, I just merely want to have fun with it – like how it’s designed to be.

airplane ride (Fisheye2)

airplane ride (Fisheye2)

Digos, Davao (Fisheye2)

Digos, Davao (Fisheye2)

farmland carabao x megasketcher (Diana F+)

farmland carabao x megasketcher (Diana F+)

falling city (Diana F+)

falling city (Diana F+)

Pasir Ris, Singapore (Diana F+)

Pasir Ris, Singapore (Holga 120CFN)

x27x

old Singapore skate park (Holga120CFN)

my babies - Karma, Orka & Indica

my babies – Karma, Orka & Indica II

Analog Cebu in our lomowall at the old Outpost

Analog Cebu in our lomowall at the old Outpost (forgot who took the picture)

Peace, Love & some RakEnRoll,

Pilar Nereida

***click Lomography for more info and photos, also check out my lomo page – http://www.lomography.com/homes/pilarnereida  

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what would Jeff Buckley do

I am bound to infinitely stare at this blank note given by a former lover who refused to tell me the meaning of such clean and crisp white paper crumpled by my frustration to interpret its ghostly writing. Maybe Jeff Buckley will sing me the answer, but then again I can’t rely too much on a dead guy.. . The message just like Mr. Buckley passed away even before I’ve come to know of its existence. ‘Oh, and the sting shall cease’, i can hear thy lover say.. .

PiLar Nereida (01/08/2009)

***photo by Marie Chiong (Los Angeles County Museum of Art, Los Angeles, California)

the evisceration of you

Writer’s bLock. Shit. I was supposed to write something about you today but thy words have betrayed me and have gone AWOL (hah!). Maybe there’s nothing to write about you anymore, I have grown out my interest in you. Sooo, goodbye horses.. . I’m fLying over you.. .

-PiLar Nereida (05/20/2009)

***photo by Stefanie Lipardo (New York City, USA)

Paper Flight stories?

          Consequent to the Paper Flight exhibit, I wanted to still make use of the photographs that our friends have sent. I didn’t like the idea that it was only used for that one night event, after all they put in so much effort and time in participating that I felt like I owe it to them and the world to showcase such photos. So I decided to make use of the photos by incorporating personally composed short stories and poetry into it, and if at times I may lose my creative will to write, I may just add some information and facts about the place that may be useful if ever you decide to take flight there. So how’s that? Interesting enough? Expect the first ‘Paper Flight story’ in the coming blogs and tell me what you think about it.

Image

Peace, Love & some RakEnRoll,

Pilar Nereida

***photo by Phaye Alvar (Sta. Clarita, California)

The grey walls on your apartment seems to emanate a dark mood on our light conversation, after all it’s been 3 years since we’ve last talked and I’m glad to start it like this before we go into more ‘important’ matters. Calling me 5 days ago to set-up this ‘date’ was surprising but predictable, having heard the news from friends, I wasn’t really expecting that you’d want to break it to me after years of no talk. I guess we really did mature and somewhat ‘evolve’, just like that silly  mauve round coffee table that we’ve always imagined to be other things rather than being the setting for your art books and ‘zines, and that green and blue kid’s lamp we bought at the flea market downtown during the Christmas holidays. The mauve table Looks more chic now that it’s next to your newly upholstered royal blue couch, psychedelic chic I must say.

As you slowly make your way across the room to obtain the neatly placed vermilion mugs on the cupboard, I think to myself that no you would not offer me coffee, which you did of course. I politely refuse and ask for beer instead, I managed a tacit laugh as you poured the blood-red wine into the mug. Unfittingly tasteful still. Your thoughtfulness was one of the things I’ve postulated, sorry.

My gaze shifts to those good ol’ records that you’ve religiously kept and still display on the shelves above where our idiot box used to be. Back then we always had this banter over Miles and Coltraine, not to forget – with Pollock and Basquiat too huh?  But getting back to business, you finally open up about your engagement, how you crossed paths over a macchiato and an espresso, I was never a coffee fiend so good for you. I imagined your fiancee’s belly swell and host your screaming and kicking little terror. It made me feel my belly – which will never house our gene’s successor/s, we never really thought of that did we? So you pour more wine in to my mug and tell me that you are unsure of being able to handle such responsibility, I assure you that you will, you were a good lover and maybe that will qualify you as a good father, I jokingly said. You mention of the past and we open up to the days of yore, next thing I notice was the time on your orange clock, it was past 1am. With an awkward stance you kiss me on the forehead and thanked me for the night, I gave a wry smile, said my goodbyes and hurriedly left for the door, leaving it ajar as I ran for the elevator that was closing down the hall.. .

Pilar Nereida (10/2011)

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