As usual, over time being in a certain spot, you hear things. I sit with different people outside the Honeycomb and gradually stories emerge. The general rule being that those who live outside traditional rules (and had a rich pre-device life) have the most insight. This port-facing old wood building has existed since 1936, but that is only half the story. It was the site of the Gobierno's house in old colonial Dumaguete and the ancient timbers sealing the floor in room four, half forgotten and possibly covering (take your pick) attest to that. You can tell that events have happened here, things that are between men in power. Things that affect the world as it exists, even to this day. Hidden things, dark things. Spirits that hang heavy in the heart and in the collective memory. Times of joy and times of privation.*
I woke up and found infinity diminishing, I no longer held court with the jester.
There is something I find comforting about the solidity of the past, particularly when it is asynchronous with present reality. To stay here for 600 pesos a night, my own AC room, when the wood and structure is built for a much more lavish use. To compare my path with those who follow the way of money and easy decisions.
The Honeycomb also has a history as HQ of occupation Japan and it is said there were hangings of rebels in the yard. Years later, in the 1970s, there was a major digging conducted for buried treasure, prior to creation of cock-fighting sports bar and poker room. All they found were bones. And the ghosts? The cook quit because spirits often appeared to him. I cannot say, because I have not been on the other side.
EVEN notes: just what era becomes the normative society of EVEN? Not that which has the most members, but that which had the most sway. Those able to live a lifestyle as comfortable as that in 1970s suburban San Francisco. Though tied to an ultra smart grid and approximately 13.4 times less wasteful (emissions + physical waste). Ecotopia of a kind.
The three tiered system of The Common Green, Thought Farm, The University, and of course the Parkland, which is administered by the University and used for mixed-use projects, often with a profit motive (hint: reality TV of a most revelatory sort). The timeline from the present to EVEN, 40 years hence, and EVEN "stasis era"150 years in the future) is presented in snippets––here on EW when I am bored, between Arisugawa Park sections
I'll begin the novel proper only after my creative writing makes me more than a certain threshold of money a year, say the amount that people in highly remunerative jobs make in a couple hours. If there are no industry people interested who really latch on to my writing for the right reasons, I will forgo that––the assumption being that I could learn the SEO/ eMarketing ropes fairly well for the selling of e-books through my site (definitely want to cut Amazon out of the equation) and embark upon a world flute+reading tour in selling limited edition copies printed on delicate rice/coconut paper.
This is becoming an achievable concept. Flute is never unwelcome among open-minded musicians - therefore I say I am almost ready to define creative reality in the most archaic way possible. The fluid, changing jam the ultimate privilege in this era of the connected.
You can chase the green but it only leads to less savory choices. You can protect the green and forgo the money. It is a choice.
You have a choice to read this or not. I applaud you for making the right choice. And for giving me the space to mess up, repeatedly. Original creation is messy.
#endwriter
*My writing takes on a Philippine dramatic inflection here. The mutable quality of language.
I woke up and found infinity diminishing, I no longer held court with the jester.
There is something I find comforting about the solidity of the past, particularly when it is asynchronous with present reality. To stay here for 600 pesos a night, my own AC room, when the wood and structure is built for a much more lavish use. To compare my path with those who follow the way of money and easy decisions.
The Honeycomb also has a history as HQ of occupation Japan and it is said there were hangings of rebels in the yard. Years later, in the 1970s, there was a major digging conducted for buried treasure, prior to creation of cock-fighting sports bar and poker room. All they found were bones. And the ghosts? The cook quit because spirits often appeared to him. I cannot say, because I have not been on the other side.
EVEN notes: just what era becomes the normative society of EVEN? Not that which has the most members, but that which had the most sway. Those able to live a lifestyle as comfortable as that in 1970s suburban San Francisco. Though tied to an ultra smart grid and approximately 13.4 times less wasteful (emissions + physical waste). Ecotopia of a kind.
The three tiered system of The Common Green, Thought Farm, The University, and of course the Parkland, which is administered by the University and used for mixed-use projects, often with a profit motive (hint: reality TV of a most revelatory sort). The timeline from the present to EVEN, 40 years hence, and EVEN "stasis era"150 years in the future) is presented in snippets––here on EW when I am bored, between Arisugawa Park sections
I'll begin the novel proper only after my creative writing makes me more than a certain threshold of money a year, say the amount that people in highly remunerative jobs make in a couple hours. If there are no industry people interested who really latch on to my writing for the right reasons, I will forgo that––the assumption being that I could learn the SEO/ eMarketing ropes fairly well for the selling of e-books through my site (definitely want to cut Amazon out of the equation) and embark upon a world flute+reading tour in selling limited edition copies printed on delicate rice/coconut paper.
This is becoming an achievable concept. Flute is never unwelcome among open-minded musicians - therefore I say I am almost ready to define creative reality in the most archaic way possible. The fluid, changing jam the ultimate privilege in this era of the connected.
You can chase the green but it only leads to less savory choices. You can protect the green and forgo the money. It is a choice.
You have a choice to read this or not. I applaud you for making the right choice. And for giving me the space to mess up, repeatedly. Original creation is messy.
#endwriter
*My writing takes on a Philippine dramatic inflection here. The mutable quality of language.
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