Paul's posts with tag: up quill
 The first of the weird theater dreams.
The day after Writers' Night in 2003, I went back to UP on some business or other. As usual, I was coming from the UP Quill tambayan (Talulah Craft to the uninitiated) and had to go somewhere inside the Faculty Center. This involved the usual walk up the stairs and walkway that follows the FC's façade, which we called the Confessional. This walk gives one a peek through some windows into some of the faculty offices that line those academic halls. One professor had left his (or her) windows open, giving me a view of a figure with long hair, with a shawl wrapped around its shoulders as it looked into some frosted mirror. I was in a hurry, and as always, I climbed, Batman-style, into the hallway linking Gallerias I and II. This maneuver always saved me a round trip to the door facing AS. Once inside, I was suddenly naked and aware that a play, staged in the nearby Teatro Hermogenes Ylagan, was just about to end. Not wanting to be exposed, I rushed through the hallways of the first floor. The hallways describe a figure eight, with two long, parallel corridors and three shorter ones cutting across: Gallerias I, II, and the corridor at the end where the faculty restrooms are. I passed the entrance to Ylagan and turned the corner at the end, looking for an empty office to hide in. Of course, I didn't want to hide in the room where some professor was conducting an arcane ritual. I found one around the next bend, near the stairs leading to the basement.The door was blocked by a large dog, though. It seemed friendly enough and let me into the office, or at least what looked like an office in the middle of some repairs. For some reason, I f ound a quilt in there, which I wrapped around me. Then the theater-goers went out, and it didn't seem to bother them that I was naked under the quilt.I went down into the basement with some people, but instead of finding the usual canteen (Katag, if it's still there now), it was some kind of loading bay for museum artifacts. By this time a suit and tie had somehow materialized and clothed me under the quilt. So I walked towards the Academic Oval, where I was met by a bunch of other people in similar attire--without quilts on their shoulders, that is. And for some reason, Diliman had merged with London. Big Ben and the Carillon were one and the same, and there was a light mist in the air, as if it were spring in England or an early morning in December here.Apparently, the people I was walking with were part of some artsy protest march, and they were headed towards the Sunken Garden (maybe Hyde Park, too?). We all took our seats near the Grandstand; mine was on the far left of the audience. It became clear then that this group was protesting the banning of some film from the local cinemas, and in defiance of this censorship, they decided to screen it in as public a manner as possible, projected onto the rear façade of the Main Library. But before any of it could be shown, we had to sing some kind of invocation. They needed a flag, and apparently it was the quilt I found back in that FC office. In a few moments, it was flying from some flagpole that showed up just for that moment.I woke up after that, wrapped in a comforter against the December cold.
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Carillon picture from Wendell Capili.
Hardin ng mga Diwata and Faculty Center pictures from the College of Arts and Letters website.
The first week of November is supposed to be sandwiched between two long weekends; it's Election Day tomorrow, and Araw ng mga Patay next weekend. It's supposed to be that one calm before the storm that is the Christmas season in the Philippines. Speaking from this end, it doesn't seem calm at all. Yesterday was New Worlds 5, and while work kept me from participating in the ingress and setup of the booths, I did spend a little over two hours in a torture device designed by the Spanish Inquisition. Other people know it as the C-3PO suit. And then there was the egress, where there was much carrying of the Geeky Items of Great Bulk and Weight. I was feeling fine last night, but an hour ago, the right side of my back started aching. Minutes ago the ache spread to my arms. And now, my neck. Uploading pictures later. And alas, there is no rest for the wicked. No staying home for me, because this afternoon is also my friend Dat's birthday party, which all the guests have been anticipating. (My bath water's heating up as I type.) Of course, this'll proceed straight to dinner and coffee and drinks and midnight snacks and ... yeah. And then I should eventually go home and write some articles for work. It is the end of the month, or Publish and Perish time. It usually involves me losing sleep for two to three nights until the newsletter is sent out; I can't complain, really, since my boss is about to leave on a couple of international trips. But with an achy back (an achy all-over, really), and several nights of little sleep, I think the other long weekend will be spent hibernating. Good night, folks. PS Conventionitis. Noun. Any number of physical and psychological ailments that are the direct result of organizing and participating in a sci-fi and fantasy con.
|  | The launch of Sitting Amok XV. Lots of candid shots. |
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