Overwhelmed by nostalgia

*snapshot in my cubicle of an anilao sunset—taken on that out-of-this-world road trip with mic lura, chris de joya, anj and bea. i say "out of this world" mainly because of the mix of people. (let’s just say it’s not a group that you’re likely to see hanging out together in starbucks. or anywhere. ever.) mic drove by for us at 3am in his dying pickup truck (walang aircon, walang side mirrors, walang handbrake, walang kahit ano) and armed with a map that we didn’t really understand, we were off. off to wherever. we got seriously lost and ended up in a rocky little resort in anilao, batangas, where we spent a long lazy day on a floating hut (a.k.a. balsa).

another shot of the sunset on that day.

in the shot stuck on my cubicle, the sea is liquid gold, and as calm and flat as a mirror; the clouds are a moody grayish blue. ah, a time when one could just rush off without any direction, nary a care in the world (that last bit lifted directly from classic old-folks’ nostalgia speeches). it seems like such a long time ago.

*importing contacts from my old yahoo account to my new Hi5 account – so many names, so many people that I didn’t keep in touch with. mostly names from my first Europe trip, each associated with a real and much-savored memory.

anne turner: the big wide master’s bedroom in lakenheath, long stick-straight hair, tables groaning with food, a touch of furtive guilt.

philip manns: "love is the answer" under oak trees outside chateau peccany, in the early morning sunshine.

the riedel family: cappuccino with freshly foamed milk and polite bites of rhubarb cake (in a word… interesting), dusting off brigitte’s black quilted down coat, postcards wallpapering closet doors, marianne turning off the radio in the car so that we didn’t have to hear the news about the abu sayyaf kidnapping germans.

*listening to the corrs’ unplugged radio—brings me right back to frank’s little one-bedroom flat in limburg—sitting on the floor with the heat off, hearing the corrs’ unplugged album for the very first time. frank with his head cocked to the stereo, propped up on one elbow, long legs stretched out on the rug. drinking yellow tea and trying to warm my hands with the sides of the mug. looking up the word "blatant" in a german-english dictionary.

a lit candle on the long console table near the door. bottles of acqua di gio and fahrenheit on a bathroom shelf, a gray cotton t-shirt hanging from a rack. rain sliding down the wide picture window, gray clouds outside. and an immense longing.

cobblestones, "half-timbered houses" (such a musical phrase), sunshine suddenly breaking through storm clouds, and a happy race to take this photo of the limburg dom. the most unforgettable sunday of my young life.

a collage i made nearly two years after that day. i'm even getting nostalgic about just making collages.

ok, enough. this is making me overwhelmingly nostalgic. it doesn’t really help that radio itself is all about nostalgia.

i need something raucous and upbeat. ah, here we are. hello, melissa etheridge! hello, annie lennox and david bowie!