In retrospect, 2006 seems like a world away: before smartphones and Facebook reigned supreme, there was Friendster and there was Multiply, and sending MMS (multimedia messages) took up much time and fortune.
Yet even back then, it was clear that director Avid Liongoren and writer Charlene Sawit-Esguerra had a vision, one that they would tirelessly pursue for 10 years, and one they would cling to even when all hope of seeing their live-action-slash-animation feature film come alive seemed bleak. Saving Sally went through years of development hell, mounted by a skeletal team of 5 animators in director Avid’s home in Teacher’s Village, Quezon City.
She knows this to be true, eyes wide awake at 2 in the morning.
Though she spends the last several minutes poring over your note, letters scribbled in a lazy mess– though she runs her fingers through parchment, analyzing every groove of where your pen landed, like they were carefully placed hints to mean something more– there is nothing more.
At least the panda versions of them, and along with the rest of their version of the Brady bunch, no less. It’s a concept that’s equal parts endearing and hilarious at the same time, drawn distinctly enough to look like the Hollywood power family they are, but without the crassness of a parody.
So you’ve had dinner, wolfed down some java and dessert, and you’re looking to cap off the night with friends in Baguio City before you head back home in the morning. You have a handful of nightclubs to choose from in this small, chilly city, but you’re more in the mood for chatter rather than dancing, and conversation is impossible under the strobe lights and the over-zealous bass beats, so you settle for a more intimate,low-key setting, clinking bottles of cold ones.
For the urban millennial whose veins are pumped up with caffeine to get through what seems like a lifelong supply of paperwork, there is that insatiable craving of the once-in-a-blue-moon bed weather: that rare moment when you’re curled up in that perfectly chill temperature under the right amount of gloom. It’s that sweet spot between room temperature and too much draft, and the clouds outside your window look melancholic enough to beckon you to just stay in bed and relax.
I believe I have expressed time and again that Baguio is food for the artistic soul, which makes it one of my absolute favorite places in the country. There is something passionate and earnest about the City of Pines that is lacking in the otherwise metropolitan savannah of Manila.
And when I’m finally saturated by the life, art, music, and the chilly temperature that inhabits this northern capital, I come back for the food, if nothing else. If there is anything that makes my trips back and forth to Baguio all the more delightful, it’s discovering new gastronomical finds, be it a hole-in-the-wall eatery or the newest up-and-coming bistro.
The master of the pompadour has arrived and he’s taken the city by storm, one haircut at a time.
“Is this the place?” We asked this to ourselves, unsure as the tricycle screeched to a full stop. The heat was scorching, expected of noon in the day, as my friend and I found ourselves in a residential area that was more reminiscent of my hometown in the province.
But, no, we were somewhere in Santa Lucia in Pasig City, and we laughed to ourselves at the pains we took to get to this obscure village—it wasn’t the easiest destination to find, after all.
Just a few steps ahead of us, a little boy is plopped on a makeshift high chair, getting his haircut. In a decrepit basketball court, some guys had set up shop with a pop-up barbershop and foldable tables for booths selling local organic pomade and statement shirts. This was Coast 2 Coast, and the Slick Barbers were in session, a group of new-generation barbers that proved fancy haircuts didn’t really need a fancy place.