Good night, Cubao!

Knitting in bed again.

Back from R.'s.

The Enchanted Aviary: A Bird Lights A Lantern For A Long-Lost Love

The birds' mah jongg session ended promptly at 6:00 PM, as it did every week. Such a time was convenient for all, allowing them to get home to their respective cages, wash up, and prepare their dinner. The Cosmic Birds thanked the Dreamer Birds for another pleasant reunion. The house lizards packed up their catering things and repaired to the upper-floor ceiling of the hermitage to count their earnings.

The female Dreamer Bird did not return inside their cage immediately upon seeing their guests to their door. She flew, instead, to the Temple of The Bird Goddess, close to the ceiling of the small loggia, and there, on the great altar, lit a patchouli incense cone. She prayed with all her heart that she would be reunited with her one, true love, the African ring-eye, someday. The expression on the face of the huge ceramic statue of The Bird Goddess was albeit unreadable.

Back inside their cage, the female Dreamer Bird flopped on a couch and stared dreamily into space. Her male partner was tempted to ask why she had such a dreamy look on her face but refrained from doing so, reasoning to himself that she was a Dreamer Bird, after all, as was he, and that they definitely had the right to have dreamy looks on their faces anytime they wanted to.

When dusk had set, the female Dreamer Bird looked out of her bedroom window toward the top of the tall condominium on Banahaw Street, behind the compound. The building was, she noted, the Y.P.L. Mansions II, a housing tower for humans, and there indeed, in the brightly lighted window on an upper floor, was the bird cage that held her dashing ring-eye, exactly as the gossipy house-lizard-head-waiter had told her. She could make out the shape of the bird cage in the window, for it was hanging right in its center, and the silhouette of the lone pet bird that lived inside it.

Now, birds are psychic, as we all know, and can send telepathic messages to one another provided that the recipients of these messages are within their sight. The Dreamer Bird called out its loved one's name, and he raised his head in surprise, as though awakening from a dream, and responded. They had a lot of catching up to do, but, for the present, were overjoyed to know that they were not so far from each other, considering that birds can be distanced from each other by thousands of miles.

Their current objective was to find ways and means to be together once again. Until that time came to be, the female Dreamer Bird made it her vocation to light a lantern outside their cage every evening as the sign of her undying love for the ring-eye.

They had not forgotten their love song:

The feathered curve of your head/
Like a grassy mound, like a fluffy cloud/
Your eyes onyx cabochons set in ivory/
Your beak a pair of petals of the delicate, pink lotus/

Should you pass by the enchanted aviary one evening and see a tiny light glowing outside one of the cages, that is the lantern of the female Dreamer Bird, whose love always burns bright and eternal.

Interviewee: The problem has to be fixed.

CNN Absolutely: Slavery can't be fixed. It has to be stopped.

Correct answer: I said, "the problem" but you really weren't listening. You can fix a problem, but you can't fix slavery unless you're for it.

Predicted counter-response: Absolutely.

Good morning, Cubao!

Incredible as it sounds to others, it takes me an hour every morning to feed and water the birds.

Good night, Cubao!

Slept nine hours last night, and hoping to sleep at least nine hours more tonight.

Drizzly night in Cubao.

Perfect for sleeping.

The mouse of your computer can operate like the planchette of a Ouija board.

Visiting R. tomorrow.

Then, on Monday, E. arrives from Mindanao.

The dwarves are playing ninepins over the skies of Cubao.

Watched another episode of Amazing Race Australia. I am always saddened whenever a team gets eliminated in the end.

Cool afternoon in Cubao.

Lunch with Angelique and Aubrey in the commercial center. We did some groceries and a little shopping.

Box of goodies from my sister Sylvia, who is in Sydney.

It is all right to be born-again, but when the staff members hold the donation basket in front of you and keep it there until you give something, that is a form of religious harassment, and it is time for you to walk out on all of them.

It is such a tragedy of Creation that Nature has become the most vulnerable persons' greatest phobia.

Riffraff will never evolve and elevate themselves if you keep stepping down to their level, believing it is the right thing.

Good morning, Cubao!

Woke up 9:00 AM. Interesting movie on TV, but I didn't want to spend an hour more in bed.

Good night, Cubao!

Still reading Judith Gleason.

Writing the next chapter of The Enchanted Aviary in a few.

A birthday party is ongoing on an upper floor of one of the compound tenement buildings. I can hear the guests having a good time through my bedroom window. A nice, cozy feeling.

Despite the sophistication in technology, you seem to have forgotten that an atchay user will always make atchay posts.

If time is money, so is kindness.

There is often a thin line between fascination and infatuation, but only a stupid person crosses it.

The rear entrance--a tiny porch--is now completely screened.

Next in line are the side balcony and the front balcony.

Never infuriate a child.

It will eventually turn against itself, against you, or against its own country.

The Enchanted Aviary: The Dreamer Bird's Secret

A long-cherished memory rushed back to the Dreamer Bird. A year was not so distant in time by the standard of birds able to outlive most other creatures, yet, it was long enough for the Dreamer Bird to pine for a loved one. Like most of her companions she was bred in captivity by the bird man in P_________, a background most elite birds were proud of and referred to as "convent breeding." It was there she grew up and matured alongside the dashing, gray, African ring-eye. They'd hatched at the same time, and the bird man perceived they would share the same destiny, since they were both under the same, avian horoscope sign: Firebird, toward the end of March. Both birds, predictably, became the best of friends--BFFs (Bird Friend Forever)--and promised they would always be true to each other. When they were old enough the bird man brought them to Cubao, and there, on Banahaw Street, alas, a bird lover was on the lookout only for a male ring-eye and would not purchase its mate, no matter how lovey-dovey they made a show of their behavior inside the peddling cage. 

The Dreamer Bird was heartbroken. It was quickly paired up with a male bird of its kind, and this was the couple the bird man eventually brought the old hermit, who designated them to the Cage of The Dreamer Birds. Day and night the female Dreamer Bird wondered where her dashing ring-eye was, and what could have befallen it. 

Yes, what the head waiter said was true. It'd been more than a year and she hadn't gotten over this major separation trauma.

It was quite cheeky of the house lizard, of course, to have intruded upon her romantic saga without warning, but then again all lizards are cheeky by nature. Besides, among small creatures, only a few things are considered rude because such creatures constantly remind themselves that they are equal. Unlike human beings, I mean, who pretend they are not equal to one another and will even spend their last dollar to construct that illusion.  

A tiny teardrop, like a round chispaz, rolled down the Dreamer Bird's cheek.

Weep no more, the head waiter grinned, for I actually have news of your amour.

Again, the Dreamer Bird gasped.

He is not far from here, the head waiter disclosed. He lives in a cage on a top-floor unit of the high-rise condominium behind this compound. You can see his cage from yours when the unit is brightly lighted at night. Do take a peek tonight.

The Dreamer Bird thanked the head waiter profusely for this bit of news. Her love was in the same neighborhood! She quickly dried her eyes and fluttered back to the mah jongg table in the lanai, where her companions had been munching on crushed peanuts, patiently waiting for her.

    

When I was 18 and in college I envisioned my old age and saw myself poring over esoteric documents, doing extensive research in mythology, and being completely surrounded with piles of books and notes.

I was wrong. Now I like having fun, resting from it, having fun again, resting from it again, then having fun...

P. dropped by to say hello.

Birds take shelter from the rain but they are never afraid of it, because the earth may get flooded, but not the sky.

A cool, rainy morning. The water fall is strong enough to vanquish the summer steam rising from the ground. The birds are singing hallelujahs.

Good morning, Cubao!

We are screening the rear entrance.

I keep promising people that I will invite them to the house once everything has been rearranged.

Maybe that is why I keep thinking of many more things to rearrange.

Must rise at 7:30 AM to let Benjie in.

The studio entrance is now completely screened.

I hope that the rear entrance will get done tomorrow.

It is neither one's mind nor one's heart that makes one bipolar. It is one's mouth.

An object breaks whenever it is not loved.

Finished knitting Angelique's summer top earlier this evening. It fits her perfectly.

Now doing Aubrey's.

I hope to photograph both before the summer is over.

The night is long when the day is short
But when the day is long, the night is long
Her hair is filled with stars
And she has very deep pockets
She changes each time she unties
And then reties her shawl

Taking A Fall

It is not your body that drops
But the floor that rises to touch it
Earth kisses your face and head
As a mother would
The dust embraces you
Close your eyes now and sleep
Everything is all right
Tomorrow you will open your eyes
And stand on your feet
And see that the floor has lain
To rest again

Never blame others for what you have become.

You have always had the ability to heal yourself or change. The problem is that you may not have wanted to.

Good night, Cubao!

Our kitchen was completely rearranged this afternoon. Quite hilarious at dinner time because we kept looking for things where they used to be rather than where they now are.

Rearranging the kitchen--something we haven't done since the year 2002.

The Enchanted Aviary: The House Lizards Serve At A Reunion

Early the next morning the water mouse rose from the Nest & Breakfast's traditional matchbox bed and listened to the faint chanting of the java sparrow priest and priestess in the Temple of The Bird Goddess, which hung high inside the small loggia of the hermitage. The water mouse was quite disappointed to find out that the sugar mouse had checked out at dawn and trekked back to its abode in the pantry of The Castle of Baking and Confectionery. Finishing up with a filling breakfast of six cheeses and milk it followed suit at the front office and waited outside. It knew that the delivery boy would pedal into the compound before midday. It would then hop onto the cart and ride all the way back to the loft of the water supply store on Arayat Street.

In the meantime the opalines who lived inside the Cage of The Cosmic Birds were literally a-flutter. Today was the day of their weekly lunch reunion with their gentle cousins, the Dreamer Birds, who were most gracious hosts and took their long-drawn mah jongg sessions seriously. The Dreamer Birds were a-flutter inside their cage as well, tidying up the interior and ensuring that everything was impeccable for their snooty neighbors. They had, in truth, a reputation to uphold.

The caterers had already arrived. They were house lizards from the upper floor of the hermitage. Three years ago they were smart in all black, and then all white became the coolest thing. Now their vests and cravats were in flamingo pink. They were the best catering service in town, and were some-time semi-finalists on the TV cookpetition Cold-Blooded Chefs, after which they established their by-now-popular and successful business Animal Feed. They were high-end pricey, but the Dream Birds adored them not only for their cuisine but also because they were incorrigible gossips. They knew everything about everyone in the neighborhood, including human beings, whom they regularly spied on in their most private moments, and, of course, the inhabitants of the animal and insect kingdoms.

Everything was ready when the opalines pulled on the front doorbell and the Dreamer Birds chirpfully received them. The house lizards served them Polly crackers and iced fruit juice in toothpaste caps while they chatted in the parlor. Lunch ensued in the dining room--a semi-formal, summer affair of chilled rice wine from Baguio City, vichyssoise, flower salad, and banana heart with mixed seeds. There were three desserts: cream float, raisin pie, and caramel crystals.

The mah jongg session was held, as usual, in the lanai. Two house lizards discreetly packed up their gear, another two washed the dishes, while yet another two waited on the tile players. During a break in the game, the female Dreamer Bird took the head waiter aside to settle their bill. The head waiter gave her a knowing wink and whispered, I see, madame, that you haven't gotten over him yet.

Gotten over who? the Dreamer Bird gasped.

Why, the African love bird you were deeply in love with, in the bird man's breeding cage in P_________, many years ago, the head waiter replied.

Is it written all over my feathered face? the Dreamer Bird asked herself. She took a deep breath and held a wingtip to her beak. She was shocked shocked shocked by this shocking message from the head waiter, more shocking than his shocking pink vest and cravat.

Back from the HS.

A drizzly morning, and the birds love it.

Too humid for humans, though. I'm actually sweating as the drizzle is falling.

Nothing outshines the army of the sun
His soldiers armored in brass
Straddling bright, sky dragons with legs of light
Brandishing weapons of fire

Run from their paths
Or you will burn, your remains
Will vanish like drops of sweat
That fall to the earth and become vapor

Your name will turn to air
A mirage on the hot asphalt road of your dreams
Dreams that will no longer be
And your name will be gone from history forever

The aging health program host has dyed hair, excessive make-up, watery eyes, and a tremulous voice, and is the worst example of everything she represents and says.

Watched Full Contact on RED last night. Violent, but I liked the Buddhist scenes set in Thailand and the Buddhist jewelry.

Finished re-reading the Dee Goong An last night. I still love that book.

The heart is like a basket of bounty. It contains memories of everyone we have ever loved from our birth to our death, whether we no longer love them or whether we love them still, and no one can take those away from us, by persuasion or by force.

No one really dies.

We all live on and on, moving, by choice, from one plane of existence to another.

Good morning, Cubao!

Benjie came in at 7:45 AM.

Off to the hardware store in a while.

Good night Cubao!

Screening more areas with Benjie tomorrow.

Laugh at me all you want
And as much as you want to

I really don't mind
As long as it is I, not you

Who owns the castle
       The caskets of gold
              The royal court
                     And the stone of immortality

Back from an exhausting day at Araneta Center.

We went to the bank and then had lunch out.

Bought tucks, S-hooks, magnets, pillows and pillowcases, and an appliance we've been needing.

Asiff bought all of the bird man's sparrows and set them free.

Good day, Cubao!

The bird man swung by this morning, then the granddaughters and I went to the commercial enter to have lunch, shop for necessities, and pay our cable bill.

Good night, Cubao!

Tomorrow is a rest day from house work. Benjie is picking up a relative at the airport, and the granddaughters and I are going out to check out something we are aiming to buy.

I love using old street names. They serve my creative fiction well.

Besides, there is nothing more annoying than having to refer to streets named after people whom my readers neither know nor care about.

Need to buy more screening mesh. Thank God the hardware store is only two blocks away, on Makiling Street, very near where the Castle of Baking and Confectionery is located!

I have finally gotten rid of the last piece of ceramic crockery from Mayon Street that a former co-worker foisted on me many Christmases ago. I hated them the minute I brought them into the house; the only reason I didn't throw them out sooner was that the family grew fond of their colorful designs. They were, sadly, made of substandard materials--they were brittle, chipped easily, and were embellished with toxic paint that could have done harm to anyone who happened to ingest them had they flaked off. For the longest time I used them as mere fruit bowls, and then as catch-alls.

I will never buy or accept dishes from Mayon Street again. They are most probably export rejects from China that somehow wangled their way to the border between Manila and Quezon City, and not the kind of thing that I want my grandchildren to inherit.

The Enchanted Aviary: The Sugar Mouse's Pilgrimage

The distance from the Castle of Baking and Confectionery to the hermitage was not as great as that from the water supply store on Arayat Street. All the sugar mouse had to do was descend into the narrow gutter on P. Tuazon Boulevard and work its way upstream. In the rainy season there were garden frogs rowing paper boat ferries that anyone could take, upstream being more expensive than downstream. Since the rains were not yet on, the gutter streams were still placid and shallow. The sugar mouse trekked along with its rubber boots cut from two fingertips of a baker's glove, its mousepack sewn from empty teabags, and its walking stick fashioned from a chef's pencil stub.

The sugar mouse, of course, was familiar to the gnome couple that ran the Nest & Breakfast inside the small loggia, for it was, so to speak, a regular and valued client. The gnomes prepared its favorite room with a saucer of wild berries and an ylang-ylang petal at its headboard. It was having a thimbleful of black coffee on the small balcony of the N&B when the water mouse walked in. They had not previously met before, and so were delighted to make each other's acquaintance. The water mouse, however, was not interested in pilgrimages because, secretly, it was an atheist, and merely, politely listened to the story behind the sugar mouse's annual mission. After a thimbleful of green tea it excused itself, promising the sugar mouse that it would join it for dinner, and then flopped on its bed for forty mouse winks.

The sun was just setting when the sugar mouse commenced the steep ascent to the Cage of The Cosmic Birds, encountering processions of black ants on its way. It first paid obeisance to the two opalines that dwelt inside the cage and that maintained the revolving Cosmic Ball. It presented its offerings, which it knew were their favorites: diced vanilla marshmallow and chocolate crumbs. When everything was ready, the opalines took the sugar mouse into the ball. The mouse took deep breaths, shut its eyes, relaxed--and the ball gently spun in a clockwise direction.

As though in a dream, the sugar mouse felt the cosmic ball rising through the ceilings of the cage and of the small loggia that contained the enchanted aviary. It seemed that the ball joined up with other cosmic balls hovering high up in the sky, each ball piloted by rodents of different colors from different planets. The extraterrestrial rodents imparted to the sugar mouse information about amazing galaxies in which the supreme creatures were not human beings but animals. When the ball stopped revolving, the opalines instructed the sugar mouse to open its eyes, and they were all once again inside the cage. After taking a few minutes to recover from its numinous experience, the sugar mouse thanked the opalines and rappelled its way back to the N&B.

The gnomes were already lighting paraffin oil lamps inside the hut, signaling dinner. The sugar mouse and the water mouse sat at a table under a window. The sugar mouse proceeded to tell its companion about its recent visit. There is more to a mouse's life than what we were made to think, the sugar mouse said, and it is up to each and every one of us to go out of our way to discover that. The water mouse was appreciative but remained skeptical. Its mundane joy was to frolic on the loft of the water supply store with its fellow mice on Arayat Street and take occasional rides through the neighborhood. I might give it some thought someday, the water mouse said, and yawned.

The small loggia is now completely screened.

The studio entrance is currently being screened.

Having pledged to myself that I would do nothing for at least a year after my retirement, I am now into the sixth month and still do not know what "nothing" means, though what it could mean to me is "working for someone else."

Good morning, Cubao!

Rose at 7:00 AM to let Benjie in at 8:00 AM.

Please believe me, this is the best combination for the kitchen: gas stove, electric oven.

Good night, Cubao!

To watch or not to watch the Garage Sale Mystery replay, that is the question.

Once you've retired, you no longer live by the clock.

Measure your time and your success not by the day or the week or the month but by the project.

Some projects are quickly completed. Others take longer, allowing you not to race against time but to enjoy its slow passage.

Cool night in Cubao, like a very mild springtime!

The small loggia should be completely screened before the day is over.

Now I want the studio entrance and the rear entrance also screened.

Nothing is permanent, but there is great beauty in impermanence.

Everything is an art as long as you know how to make it so.

All riffraff, especially religious riffraff, detest change. It threatens their security and upsets them terribly.

Good news from the bank manager. My retirement pension has started coming in--after a delay of almost six months due to a backlog. Many of my co-retirees were going crazy already.

And, to encapsulate all of the post-retirement resolutions I made and am fulfilling:

--I will write whenever I want and as much as I want.

--I will paint whenever I want and as much as I want.

--I will knit whenever I want and as much as I want.

--I will no longer attend meetings in which all people do is pick my brain.

--I will offer ideas that will work ONLY if I execute them myself. Should other people steal those ideas, those ideas will NOT work.

--If someone wants to take me somewhere, he had better make arrangements to pick me up and take me home. I am available only via door-to-door shipping.

--I will remember all the betrayals and offensive words and acts done to me in the past, and now it is time for me to RECIPROCATE. I am doing these people a favor by making them pay their karma NOW rather than in another lifetime.

Benjie is cleaning the house. He is a professional cleaner.

I tried cleaning the house myself and discovered that what takes me an entire day takes a professional cleaner two hours.

There are many techniques to cleaning that I need to learn, but, I might as well keep Benjie employed several days a month.

Good morning, Cubao!

Woke up at 7:00 AM to let Benjie in at 8:00 AM.

Good night, Cubao!

Still resting.

Benjie comes tomorrow to do general house cleaning.

The Enchanted Aviary: The Water Mouse Stays The Night

The Philippine summer, on tiptoe, reached its apogee in the month of May. The old hermit finished misting the birds with fresh water, a mid-afternoon treat they all enjoyed, flying back and forth across their cages and screeching joyously like children playing tug-of-war in a park. The fine clouds of water showed up rainbows in the sunlight. Tiny, sparkling beads clung to cage wires like stranded, elfin jewelry. Back on their perches, the birds aerated their feathers and allowed the warm breeze to stroke their tiny bodies beak to tail.

It was water day for many of the compound tenants. The boy at the water supply store on Arayat Street made several deliveries of ten-gallon jugs that day. One of the white mice that lived on the loft of the store liked hopping onto the iron cart that was connected to the boy's bike, and so it did when the boy left for the compound. The water mouse relished these jaunts through the neighborhood. Nestled between aquamarine jugs that magnified the sights round them, it was safe from the stray cats and the feral rats that populated the dense, animal underworld of Cubao.

The water mouse also liked stopping by the Cage of The Healer Birds, since, because of its height from the ground, it was most accessible. The healer birds operated an herb and oil shop in a corner of their cage, and the water mouse would spend long minutes browsing through the packets of herbs and bottles of oil as an avid reader would browse through a well-stocked book store. Today was quite alarming for the water mouse, though. When it looked up from the racks the sun was almost setting on Cubao's horizon. Moreover, the delivery boy had pedaled off, leaving the mouse behind. The journey from the hermitage to Arayat Street, though a cinch to any human being, was a dangerous feat to any tiny mouse on four feet.

The healer birds suggested that the mouse stay at their place overnight. The mouse agreed, knowing that extra water deliveries had been scheduled the next morning and that it could hop onto the cart as soon as it parked in the driveway. The healer birds, fortunately, owned a hut that doubled as an N&B (Nest & Breakfast) managed by two gnomes, who were a married couple. The birds and the gnomes were extremely proud of their N&B, which had become a popular stop for other birds, mice, cockroaches, and other diminutive creatures. It was a rustic affair with a small balcony and lamp-lighted windows. A secret room containing a cache of coins was in this N&B. It ensured that the old hermit who lived beside the aviary would never run out of money. The enchanted tree that grew near the hut was the sentinel of the cache.

Relieved to spend the night in comfort and in safety, the water mouse checked into one of the bedrooms and deposited its bag of purchased herb packets and oil bottles in a footlocker. Another mouse, a brown, sugar mouse from the Castle of Baking and Confectionery on the same street as the compound, had checked into the adjoining room, and the water mouse was delighted that it could have someone to converse with that night. The sugar mouse was on its annual pilgrimage to The Cage of The Cosmic Birds, a steep climb on the grilles but, according to it, well worth the exertion. The sugar mouse invited the water mouse to join it that evening. The water mouse, deciding that it had enough excitement that day, graciously declined.

Pet birds greet you in the morning and summarize your previous night's dreams.

Do not forget fresh coconut's restorative powers.

Every country has a pulse, but not every person knows how to take it.

Good morning, Cubao!

My body is telling me to rest because I've been going like a train on full speed.

Good night, Cubao!

Knitting in bed again.

Thank God I was nowhere near Texas these past few days. I might have been arrested because of the way I look.

Two young women came this evening to inquire about the rental of our ground-floor front space. They want to put up a beauty salon, since there is no such thing in the neighborhood. They became excited about the Cubao New Orleans French Quarter design, but let us see what happens, since I gave them four preliminary requirements.

All of the energy centers on your body are capable of having "orgasms". My favorite is in the abdomen, where the ecstatic feeling gently radiates from the pit of my belly, extending outward toward the rest of my body, generating a warm, tingling sensation that washes over me again and again in waves.

Having the small loggia screened.

Watched Betrayed on DIVA last night. It was contrived and convoluted--I almost expected it to have been written and directed by M. Night Shyamalan, except that there was no cameo appearance that started out short and got longer and longer and supporting-actor-longer. The teleplay had such weak punch lines as "It's not your baby" and "By the way, it's a girl."

DIVA is evidently a woman's channel. Its biggest mistake, to me, could be showing movies that are substitutes for cheap romance novels, which portray men not as they are but as women wish them to be.

Having said all that, I watch DIVA movies while knitting or resting from knitting because I like their clean and cozy settings. They are partial to the seaside, the riverside, lakes, lagoons, forests, and gardens--nonetheless derivative of, or is it fixated on, that old film Message In A Bottle.

As I am encoding this, I am tuned to Sweet Surrender.

The two half-brothers are so different from each other, not because of their mothers but because of their dreams.

The Enchanted Aviary: The Healer Birds

The Cage of the Healer Birds was not immediately visible to anyone looking into the small loggia. Slung under the narrow, iron staircase that led to the upper floor of the hermitage, it was the cage that hung lowest of all. This was the abode of the shamanic blackbirds, known to the neighborhood as the Healer Birds.

The old hermit endowed to the blackbirds three of a deceased mombaki's talismans from Ifugao, in the north, and the carved, wooden image of a bird used in a pagdiwata ritual from Palawan, in the south. As in the Temple of The Bird Goddess, north and south met within this cage.

The healer birds were favorite consultants of practitioners of magic who lived not only in Cubao but in other regions of the Philippines. They brought with them oil in small bottles and herbs in tiny packets and placed them in inside the cage. The healer birds then drew energy into them from the talismans over three nights of a full moon.

Like these feathered healers, other birds of that color--crows, mynas, ravens, magpies, et alii--are those associated with witches, warlocks, sorcerers, and magi. Despite the appearance of different types of birds as power animals in, for example, Greek and Celtic mythology, of course. The color black absorbs left-hand energy and transforms it for constructive, rather than destructive, means. Black is as heavy as the earth and the night, which was why the cage was located closest to the ground.

Thus were there seven cages in all in the enchanted aviary of the hermit of Cubao, and its 28 inhabitants comprised its community.

Waking up in mid-morning is a delight, knowing that I do not have to get up and that I can go back to sleep as long as I desire.

Tony Perez's Art of War: Do not kill your enemies. Wait for them to kill themselves.

I continue to desire wearing my leather jackets and trench coats, but they don't go with my hermit look. I only end up looking like the senior member of a motorcycle gang.

My wearing or not wearing them has actually nothing to do with the weather.

Streets I Was Longest On

From preparatory school through graduate school through an adjunct lectureship I was on Aurora Boulevard 26 years. During my full-time employment in an office I was on Roxas Boulevard 36 years. There was an overlap of years during my adjunct lectureship on Saturdays and my full-time employment. I was longest, of course, in Cubao, where I was on P. Tuazon Boulevard 59 years.

Good morning, Cubao!

Woke up 10:00 AM because D. called to offer nine strands of excavated beads. He arrived from Laguna an hour ago.

Passed on the beads, but did not on something extraordinary that he also showed me.

The rapper's son finds renewed inspiration.

Good night, Cubao!

I tune in to the local news only when my loved ones have not yet come home for the day.

Knitting while waiting for Angelique to arrive from a concert that she and her friends are attending. One of her classmates will stay with us overnight.

Brought down lots of superfluous stuff from the roof deck.

The Enchanted Aviary:The Cosmic Birds

A pair of opalines were the oldest inhabitants of the enchanted aviary. They lived inside The Cosmic Cage and were therefore known as the Cosmic Birds. They could tap into the Akashic records, and could be used as resources for obtaining mystical information. The wires of their home were gold-plated. Hanging from the dome of their cage was a colorful, expandable ball that had belonged to and become outgrown by one of the old hermit's grandchildren. The birds went inside this ball and perched there when they were meditating. If the ball rotated clockwise, positive information was being gathered. If the ball rotated counterclockwise, not-positive information was being culled. The hermit also placed three, discarded, plastic knitting needles in the cage, to be used as perches. Ether is a fabric knitted by spirits, after all, and the way to send and receive messages, from the nearest and the farthest distance, from the most recent to the longest time, is always through its weave.

Only the hermit could consult the Cosmic Birds. They were not responsive to visitors, and so were merely visual attractions to passersby. Unbeknownst to everyone, the Cosmic Birds were also the hermit's astral messengers. They were still when they were traveling. Their work was somewhat like that of computer searches, except that computers are unable to search the spiritual-astral. Well, at least, not yet.

The opalines were fed, as were most of the birds in the aviary, millet and mixed seeds. Only the rice-field birds subsisted on poultry feed. As though they were human ascetics, however, the opalines seemed to be on an extraordinary regimen. Their feeders were always the last ones to empty out.

Like trees that are similar to global sites nonetheless, all birds are attuned to all other birds of the same kind round the world. As the hermit could enter the peepal tree on the compound and exit through any other peepal tree in any other country, so were the opalines interconnected with all other opalines, living or deceased.

You've now seen six of the seven cages in the enchanted aviary and met their inhabitants, and will soon be introduced to the next and last.

Even minds need to be repaired, and so avoid overthinking and mental stress.

Magic is not superstition.

However, magic and superstition both work, albeit in different ways.

I shall have a cup of table wine only once a week, lest I become too fond of it.

The Enchanted Aviary: The Dreamer Birds

Tucked in a corner of the small loggia, directly in front of the old hermit's bedroom window, was a cozy cage bedecked with a pale-blue crystal ball, a double-deck dollhouse bed, and a dreamcatcher pendant. The couple of sky-blue and white lovebirds that dwelt there often nestled together, and were always in a drowsy state. These were the enchanted aviary's Dreamer Birds. In truth they were often sleepy in the daytime because they were most active, though silent, at night. They monitored everyone's nocturnal dreams, ensuring that the children in the neighborhood had pleasant ones.

Dreams and wishes are frequently synonymous, and so the tenants on the compound came to the Dreamer Birds as people do to a wishing well. Every visitor placed a copper, ten-centavo coin in a white bowl inside the cage while making a wish. Since the birds were enchanted, every wish was granted.

Dreaming, or the temporary flight of the spirit from the body at night, is often likened to a bird floating away into the night. The "bird" joins up with the dream birds, who escort it on its journey. This is the reason why, when people dream, they sometimes dream that they are flying.

Yet, someone once asked the hermit, when birds sleep, do they themselves dream? Yes, because they have minds and they have intelligence, and because they themselves have wants and needs.

Undoubtedly there are birds that own the night, such as owls, that inhabit woody areas. There are also fruit bats, that are not birds but that are exceedingly plentiful in Cubao. Before the sun goes down they rally across the sky and are easily mistaken for black sparrows. In Cubao, these fruit bats are considered to be cousins of the birds. They, too, and the owl, dream when they sleep.

People often came to the hermitage to consult not only the birds but the hermit himself about their dreams. They would sit in chairs under the Cage of The Dreamer Birds. Once in a while the hermit would read cards for them. Some of the people's dreams were nightmares, metaphoric of dark horses rather than of birds. The hermit taught the people to listen to their dreams, whether light or dark, and to learn from them. When the body becomes still, the Higher Self, or the Psyche, draws up the mind as water from a well, and generates dreams that heal and that show the way to peace of mind and happiness.

"Season of Lent" (Night of Thursday, May 21, 2015)

Events of The Day:

Spent a lot of time with our pet birds. The bird man came and brought java sparrows and more African lovebirds. Some compound tenants came and bought sparrows from him.

In the afternoon, took a tricycle and moseyed over to Arayat Market to buy bird stuff.

Continued knitting Angelique's summer top.


The Dream:

It is the season of Lent. Rosel and her husband have moved house to Banahaw Street, in Cubao. There is a shortcut from their house to my house: a lane cuts through the residential block and leads to the back of our lot. They come and visit me. We sit on the ground-floor, covered veranda of a building, presumably part of my house, though it is a structure I have never seen before in waking life.

It is the Lenten season. Rosel and her husband have never actually been inside my house and seen the rest of it, and so I pledge to give them a tour someday. We talk about Lenten activities. I realize that the Good Friday procession will pass in front of our house, and I make a mental note to prepare our front balcony for the event. I think about the life-size statue of the Santo entierro that I used to own and that I sold off to a neighbor many years ago. Rosel's husband wants to know what other sorts of things are being organized in our neighborhood. I suggest that we proceed to Camp Panopio compound, which has a chapel and an office that distributes printed schedules.

Before leaving the veranda I open an antique tabernacle that I've been using as a repository with a key. I retrieve something--I no longer recall what--then lock the tabernacle door again. A security guard is standing behind us. I am worried that he or someone else will attempt to open the tabernacle door and make off with some treasure within.

Next Rosel, her husband, and I are standing at the main gain to our compound on P. Tuazon Boulevard. I point out that the Castle of Baking and Confectionery (a.k.a Chocolate Castle) is to our left, then quickly realize that I am wrong and point out that it is to our right. I also tell them that Ali Mall is to our left, across EDSA. Rosel's husband says that he is starving. I promise to serve a snack inside my house later.

We are now inside the Camp Panopio compound chapel office, which, in this dream, looks like a cozy library. We ask the male receptionist for copies of the printed schedule for Lent. I unfold my copy. I notice that Rosel and her husband are cutting off the top parts of their copies with pairs of scissors. I look at the corresponding part on my own copy, which contains only headings, and I wonder why they are doing that. [Bridge to a portion of Murder Most Foul a.k.a Mrs. McGinty's Dead that I saw on TCM the previous night, which had a scene in which pieces of printed text were reassembled to form a message.]


My Interpretation:

The first thing I note is that this dream is all about opposites: Self and Not Self (I am myself in this dream and I am also Rosel's husband), back and front (shortcut to back of house and front gate), left and right (TCOBAC and Ali Mall), unprinted and printed (the Good Friday procession and the printed schedule).

I am being called to engage as a proactive participant, rather than a passive observer, in deeper spirituality. The antique tabernacle that I've been using as a repository is my Unconscious. There is something there that I need to retrieve, and I have the key to the locked door.

The compound chapel office is the opposite of the tabernacle--it is the Social Realm of the Conscious. It indicates a necessity to conform to other people's norms and schedules in order for me to obtain what I aspire for.

I am starving (perhaps in terms of social interaction) and promise myself to have a snack later (during my escapade to Arayat Market I was actually delighted to be among crowds of people once again).

Cutting off headings from printed schedules indicates the necessity to revise previous "headings" I created for myself.

Good Friday is followed by Black Saturday and Easter Sunday, a day of resurrection.

Good day, Cubao!

Slept nine hours last night.

11:14 PM and all's well.

After the heat, a blistering wind.

God of the volcano, I watch you dance
Dance round my city, father, but not in it
I honor you with water buffalo horns on my wall
And a red stone in a dish of mud

God of the volcano, I dance
Because you taught me to, and I did not
Now the earth shakes beneath my feet
My fire leaps up to reach the stars

The night wraps itself around me like a black mantle.

I am a day person. I love emerging in the light.

Blog. Long after you have gone, people around the world will continue learning from your posts.

I even believe that my best students have not yet been born, and that I shall never physically meet them.

Actually, I dipped out of the hermitage this afternoon and went to Arayat Market. I had to buy millet, mixed seeds, two water dispensers, and a basket-woven nest for the pet birds. So far I have a total of seven cages and 28 birds (2 + 8 = 10), and those are the numbers I'm settling for.

This is the second time I went to Arayat Market wearing only my house clothes and flip-flops. It is quite thrilling to blend with the market people. Most of the men there are also in tees and shorts.

Wondering why there is a proliferation of shows featuring magic tricks.

I never trust anything taken with a video camera. All to often, human tricks are combined with camera tricks,

Good night, Cubao!

Knitting in bed again, and still reading Judith Gleason and the Dee Goong An.

There is no other creature as devoted to its fellow creature as the bird, who pines away and dies after losing its mate.

Tony Perez's Art of War: Announce--or hint, if you will--that you are sick or in desperate straits. See who sympathizes. See who rejoices.

Act accordingly.

The Enchanted Aviary: The Temple of The Bird Goddess

Below the cage of the Visionary Birds, on the east side of the small loggia, is the Temple of The Bird Goddess. It has a porcelain statue of The Great Mother Bird, She Who Dominates Air, ever pregnant and blissfully hatching The Seven Thousand Eggs of The World. This is the sacred image that greets first light long before the birds in the enchanted aviary begin to open their eyes. She is prayed to and worshiped by these birds at sunrise and at sundown. Even the birds that live in the other trees on the compound pay homage to her.

The old hermit who keeps this temple designated two java sparrows, a bird priest and a bird priestess, as the caretakers of this extraordinary sanctuary. It is appointed with copper and brass vessels from Tibet, high up north of the Philippines on the globe, and ritual implements that only the bird priest and the bird priestess may see. The statue of The Great Mother Bird traveled to Cubao all the way from the island of Marinduque, south of Metro Manila. North and south therefore meet in this temple.

The bird scholars of the enchanted aviary are the dyed sparrows that live in the Cage of The Divination Birds. It is their task to master the voluminous passages in The Holy Book of The Birds. This is a secret book that is seldom shown to human beings. The hermit very kindly shares with us seven passages from the secret book below:

Birds are always in the mythology, scripture, folklore, history, creative literature, and art of human beings.

The world has a myriad of birds, but all of them peacefully coexist. The world has a few races of human beings, but it is difficult for them to coexist.

Birds are born with natural raiment. Human beings must work to clothe themselves.

Birds survive on restricted diets. Human beings are unable to eat the same food everyday.

Birds talk with their beaks as human beings talk with their mouths. Birds are more straightforward and direct, for they also eat with their beaks while human beings need hands to bring food to their mouths.

Many human beings eat birds, but only few birds eat human beings.

When human beings fly, they sometimes crash, even if no one shoots them down.

Should you see the hermit placing fresh flowers and fragrant sunflower seeds inside the temple and lighting incense on the floor of the enchanted aviary, you can be sure that the sunrise and sundown rituals of the birds are about to begin.

The Enchanted Aviary: The Visionary Birds

The bird man from P_________ noted a spare, empty cage inside the old hermit's small loggia. An empty cage is a sure indication that a pet bird has died or has flown the coop. Anyone who cares for birds must know that birds turning renegades, especially clever ones, is not uncommon. It is wrong to get all upset when this happens, especially since the birds deserve to get what they work hard for. Whenever birds flew out of their cages inside the small loggia, they eventually came back or else contentedly resided in the trees on the compound, in particular the huge peepal tree round which a huge ficus was entwined. The hermit did not mind losing pet birds to Nature. It was fascinating to hear their joyful shrieks from behind the lush greenery of the trees, to which the birds inside the small loggia always responded. Such animated, trilling conversations usually occurred late in the afternoon, when it was not so hot. One of the compound tenants, Ifram, a migrant from Indonesia, even had a habit of purchasing the rest of the bird man's ware and releasing them afterward, and had already spent quite a fortune in doing so. As such, the compound trees, and, of course, the inseparable, twin peepal and ficus trees, became natural abodes to a huge variety of birds, including quite a few exotic ones.

When the bird man asked about the empty cage, the hermit said that it used to house a pair of yellow cockatiels given him by a female American officer who did a three-year Embassy assignment in Manila. She was now posted in Washington, DC. The female cockatiel passed away a year later, the male survived her by two years. It is always quite sad, the hermit added, because we know that birds can outlive men by more than a hundred years. The bird man agreed. He offered the hermit a pair of his baby parrots, aware that they had very long life expectancy.

The hermit was extremely pleased with the two new additions to the aviary. The parrots were highly sentient. They did not retreat to corners whenever their feed and water were being replenished. They were intelligent busybodies, exploring everything that was placed inside their cage. They looked everyone straight in the eye. While they squawked at strangers, they allowed people whom they were familiar with to touch them.

The residents of the compound eagerly awaited what kind of enchantment the parrots were capable of doing. One morning they all saw that the hermit had installed a clear crystal ball and three, reversible mirror mobiles inside their cage. The parrots spent most of the day grazing on the surface of the crystal ball and scrying on the surfaces of the mirrors. The mirrors that faced outward deflected negative energy from the hermitage. The ones facing inward were used by the birds to portend the future. The mirrors with pink and green frames were for outsiders. Those with green frames only were for the tenants on the compound. Those with red and blue frames were for the entire district of Cubao. By means of these mirrors the visionary birds alerted the hermit to what possibly lay in the future, and it was up to the hermit to interpret what they saw.

Individuals who came to consult the visionary birds were asked to write three possible outcomes on strips of paper, roll the strips, and place them on a special vessel inside the cage. The birds would then graze on the crystal ball, hop onto the floor of the cage, and pick up the right strip of paper with their beaks.

I rose at 8:30 AM but spent the entire morning with the birds.

And if you want your blood pressure to rise despite your yoga and your medication, watch Fear Thy Neighbor on Ci.

Watched Small Town Murder on DIVA before going to sleep last night. As enjoyable as Garage Sale Mystery and, like Garage Sale Mystery, with a cast comprised of well-dressed, intelligent females, but this murder mystery is more risque.

Addicted to Chinese costume dramas on CTV, though I don't understand a single word!

Sickness and hospitalization come too unexpectedly and to the most unlikely people.

"Wise men say/
Looks like rain today/"

Good morning,Cubao!

CNN Absolutely, Aljazeera, Fox Ee-yoh, and BBC are the hermit's windows to the world.

Good night, Cubao!

Silence inside the small loggia--all of the birds are fast asleep.

A TV commercial is always designed to sell a product that you do NOT need.

Too many replays and too many shows of the same kind make me opt for TV silence.

A cup of chilled strawberry wine from Baguio City.

I love Baguio's table wines. They have a gentle effect on my entire body.

The Enchanted Aviary is a piecemeal novel contained only in this third edition of Tony Perez's Electronic Diary, the one beginning May 17, 2015.

The Enchanted Aviary: The Chinese Oracle Birds

On the south end of the small loggia the old hermit located the Chinese Oracle Cage, directly opposite the altar of Chuoko Kung Ming, inside his bedroom. The cage was visible to passersby but, despite the tall window between them, the interior of the bedroom was not. As such, only when the oracle birds approved of visitors did the hermit admit them into the room to toss the ten coins and consult the oracle.

The three oracle birds that dwelt inside the cage were not rare birds that one would expect Chinese Oracle birds to be. They were, rather, wild, rice-field birds. One of the compound security guards called them "coo-coo-roo-coo-coos"s because of their long, throaty warble, actually their mating call. They were officially named, in Tagalog, "batubato"s, literally, "stone-stone"s, and figured in one of many Tagalog metaphoric phrases, "Batubato sa langit, ang tamaan huwag magalit" ("Whoever is hit by a stone that falls from heaven should not complain," referring to one's being hurt by the same words that one uses to hurt others, or the defense mechanisms reaction-formation and projection). 

These Chinese Oracle Birds were originally migrants from China, after all. In the harshest winters of that great continent, entire flocks of them crossed the sea and landed in the Cordilleras, where hundreds of rice terraces had been carved into the mountainsides. Such birds were hunted mainly for food. Being wild, they did not take well to captivity, and preferred to hide in trees and scavenge for their survival.

The bird man from P_________ had kept the rice-field birds well fed an watered. Not many bird lovers chose to purchase them because they seemed plain and unfriendly, and looked like small, brown (male) and gray (female) pigeons. They were not as colorful as the other birds in the traveling cage. They were never featured in bird books. They refrained from making sounds in the presence of strangers. Only when they truly loved their caregivers did they burst out in song, usually at sunset, a song as haunting and as melodious as a brief passage from a piccolo. 

By the time the birds were brought to the hermitage they were only too glad to have a stable home. Their cage had been a house-renovation present from one of the hermit's female students. The hermit furnished the cage with blue-and-white porcelain vessels and a sodalite crystal ball. The birds were nicknamed Ma Joong, Tao Gan, and Chiao Tai, based on characters created by the late Chinese mystery novelist Robert van Gulik. The characters were the first, second, and third lieutenants of the famous Chinese magistrate and detective Judge Dee, also known as Dee Jen Djieh. If the birds perched on top of the ball one after another in the presence of a person who wished to consult the oracle, the hermit took it as the sign that visitors could be admitted to view the altar.  

Not everyone who came to see the birds, however, had the intention of consulting the oracle. Many of the compound tenants would leisurely pass by and stop to watch the birds at the start of sundown, just waiting for them to release their enchanted calls.

Like plants, pet birds thrive in competition. It is more auspicious to have several bird cages for pet birds rather than a single cage with a lone canary a la Tweety and Sylvester. a bid harden is alwaya a nice setting to knit, have coffee, or write reflections in.

If I were an ancient Chinese man I'd have an office looking out into a second courtyard filled with exquisite bird cages.

The bird man has java sparrows for sale. I recall that they were my aunt's favorite birds, and were my first exposure to pet birds. She kept them in a cage hanging below the intricately-carved archway between the living room and the dining room in our ancestral, Fil-Hispanic house in San Fernando, Pampanga. Whenever the cage door was left open, the sparrows would fly out and, at the end of the day, return inside.

Good day, Cubao!

I spend hours in the bird neighborhood upon rising.

Good night, Cubao!

Knitting a new piece in bed.

Still reading Judith Gleason's book and the Dee Goong An.

Dusk has taken over Cubao once again. I am seated in front of my desktop computer. The birds have settled down in their cages inside the small loggia,outside my bedroom window. Tuesday came and went like a passing breeze.

This blog now automatically shares posts on my Google+ page.

Two rivers will surround the village and render it an island.

The Enchanted Aviary: The Divination Birds

They were the tiniest of sparrows, the type that had heart attacks and dropped dead whenever stray cats stared at them. The bird men dyed them in different colors so that children would be attracted to them as they were sold in ball-shaped cages outside churches. One never asked whether they were captured or bred in captivity. They were most probably captured in the wild, fed and watered, and inured to the prisons where they met fellow-sparrows from other towns. They were compelled to know a kind of happiness, though not freedom, in being cared for by humans. Thus did they eventually give up hope that, as soon as men and women had finally solved their problems in human trafficking, they would extend similar solutions to the trafficking of other creatures.

The bird man from P_________ was different from the rest. Though he traveled miles from his home to Cubao twice a week and back, he chose to do business only with those who could assure him that they would provide good homes for his birds. He offered his entire bevy of sparrows. The old hermit whose doorstep he came to knew that they were divination birds, as all birds really are.

To the passersby the sparrows were ordinary pet birds in a huge, rectangular, white cage hanging highest inside the small loggia of the hermitage.  They provided cheer with their incessant chirping and hopping about. There were 16 in all. Four of them were dyed a deep ruby, four more, dark emerald, another four, blue sapphire, the remaining four, yellow topaz.

The ruby birds were attuned to fire disasters and could sense them wherever they were occurring in the metropolis. The emeralds were attuned to earthquakes, knowing when they were coming days before anyone did. The sapphires were attuned to rain and thunderstorms, and the topazes to air disasters such as tornadoes, cyclones, and plane accidents. The hermit could tell whether something dark was brewing, no matter how far and no matter how near. The tiny birds, normally perched in rows on their bamboo rods if not pecking at their millet or dipping their beaks in their water dispensers, would be clinging excitedly on the side wires of the huge cage, facing north, south, east, or west, depending on where the vibrations of danger were coming from.

The hermit cloaked the cage with a white scarf to protect the sparrows from harsh sunlight and dawn moisture. The cage was also furnished with five, wooden houses they could nestle in. On normal days the birds would gather round a translucent, green, crystal ball set on a stand on the floor of the cage, gazing into its depths, as though deriving energy from it. It was, as a matter of fact, their favorite pastime. Aside from the joy and empowerment it gave them, it also warded predators off their cage.

Soon the neighbors enjoyed coming to visit the divination birds. They had alerted the hermit, twice since their arrival, of three typhoons long before they were detected by the weather stations. The neighbors came not only to consult the birds on personal matters but to have the pleasure of looking at them as well.

Flavor ice chips with a drop of banana oil or vanilla oil.

Whenever a true mage pushes a solid wall, a door opens.

Caught, by synchronicity, a documentary on Bruce Lee on CTV last night. It showed photos I'd never seen before.

Though I am an artist, Bruce Lee has long been my idol, something I seem to have taken from my elder son, Nelson.

Good noon, Cubao!

The best way to plan a city is to plan an ant farm.

Good night, Cubao!

Finished teasing Angelique's pullover this evening. It fits her perfectly, and I asked Aubrey to wear hers so that I could see them side by side.

Thinking of taking their picture together tomorrow.

Started knitting a cool and comfy T-shirt for Angelique using cotton thread tonight.

My sisters Remi and Alice arrived from the Australian Embassy earlier this afternoon. They applied for visas to attend my niece Katrina's wedding in Sydney.

Granddaughters home from visit.

Monday, May 18, 2015

Finished pullover awaiting teasing.

Approximately 20 days of knitting.

When painting a mural, avoid creating a  work that looks "City Hall Lobby".

Do not compose your figures like a series of cinematic lap dissolves.

Do not make your work scream, "Yoo-hoo! I'm an epic painting!"

Do not make an effort to be "dramatic". Your mural will only end up looking like a billboard for Dr. Zhivago.

Whatever time of day or night, astral traveling keeps one COLD.

Sugar is so sweet that it can make your whole mouth ache.

Too many poor people die not because there are few hospitals but because they cannot afford to pay for proper hospitalization.

Why do they have to beg for assistance?

Home alone!

One of the things I like doing whenever no one else is at home and all the exterior entrances and exits are locked is use the bathroom with the door wide open.

Good day, Cubao!

Rose relatively early this morning but kept my granddaughters company while they were preparing for a visit.

"CNN Absolutely" and "Fox Ee-yoh"

If CNN overuses the word "Absolutely" there is also a phrase/word that I hear too much on Fox: "Ee-yoh", a 2000 truncation of "You know".

Finished knitting Angelique's pullover and commenced assembly.

Will continue assembly tomorrow.

Good night, Cubao!

Envy the birds, who settle down and go to sleep immediately as soon as dusk has set.

Before I retired, my supper was always at 5:20 PM, because I needed to have showered and be in bed by 7:00 PM. Now I sup with my granddaughters at 8:30 PM.

Watching the allegedly final episodes of Atlantis because it has truly fabulous sets, props, costumes, weapons, and jewelry. The plots are irritatingly protracted, though, and the series is comparable to a never-ending Chinese opera that does not stop until everyone in the audiences has walked away at dawn, and possibly not until the writers have deconstructed all of Greek mythology.

Sunday, May 17, 2015

Progress on sleeves