MY LITTLE OLD LADY HOME

When I was a young features producer, I’d interview in the homes of artsy, cause-oriented, environmental ladies in their 50s who’d serve me and my crew pitchers of dalandan juice and carrot cake on their terraces.  Their houses would have Julie Lluch sculptures in odd corners, Ugu Bigyan pottery in the sink, handmade paper Wendy Regalado lanterns in the garden, interesting collections of fridge stamps or postcards or handbags or textiles from travels made all over the world and inevitably, books and more books everywhere.  I loved these women, they were so interesting.  And I loved their homes.

So I took a look around my house today, after what feels like months on the road.  And realized I’d somehow managed to morph into one of those ladies.  Albeit a younger version with a lot less space.  But still. 

There’s a little love and some thought put into every lived-in spot.

        

This is my reading corner.  I found the bookshelf in an old coin shop in Greenhills – it wasn’t intentionally for sale, it was where the owners kept their files.  I love all the books in it: top row interior design, second and third rows media and business, bottom row travel and fashion, and piled in front of them, fiction.  The chair’s from my Mom, the pillow on it from India.  This corner is topped by a handpainted – with kiping – wine bottle from Lucban and a rather uncommon Malang watercolor of a squatter community.  He normally paints cookie-cutter girls carrying flowers …

 

This is the white kitchen of my dreams.  I had the original ugly cabinetry replaced with country style beadboard.  It was made just from ordinary plywood by a carpenter who was out of a construction job at the time.  I found a deep round sink too and a Victorian style faucet.  The ash cabinet with a stovetop - and the oak dining table not in these pics – were specially designed by R.  The guy always had good taste … ; ),  plus he wanted to use wood from sustainable forests instead of endangered Filipino hardwoods.

When I wash the dishes, I look at this little print of a fish vendor found at UP’s Bahay ng Alumni, which is propped up beside a bunch of hanging wooden fish.  I love this vignette. 

 Across the kitchen corner, another fish, this one a grilled tilapia surrounded by yummy red eggs and tomatoes, painted by post prod graphics artist Ian Ramos.  In front of it is a bronze Cacnio sculpture of a guy selling buko, presumably to wash down the fish picnic lunch.  

I painted the blue green and white cabinet myself.  It’s where I keep canned goods and garbage bags and other odds and ends.

The entryway has a gorgeous watercolor of a bass player by Anthony Palomo and a pastel by my bro Lionel.  His work’s entitled “my sister had to go to the bathroom …” which is why the chair in front of the piano’s askew!   I consider this one priceless.

This is the couch, with three toned brown pillows I had made in Kamuning market, from canvas cloth also found there.  Above it is an acrylic I fell in love with at the Pinto Art Gallery in Antipolo but could not afford.  Back story:  I was a new Imbest PM then and we had teambuilding in Antipolo.  Some of the staff were horribly late, so the earlybirds among us went sightseeing.  We all loved this cluttered Pinoy cityscape.  I decided to go back for it a week later, after sweetly bargaining with the artist himself, Ferdie Montemayor.         

               

The huge pine dresser, I had made to fit the exact size of the wall in my first home, by a little stall in Greenhills.  Inside it, more piles of fiction and boxes upon boxes of magazines.  The white metal chair — which I once painted green but which was originally black — I lugged home on foot for several blocks from a thrift shop.   

Above my bed is a poster of a lesser known Chagall that I hand-carried all the way from the MOMA in New York.  I love how whimsical it is.  I see this before I go to sleep and smile.

An interesting fact, most of the furniture here was bought back when I was a struggling indie production house staffer.  And everything I got for at least a fourth less than the first offer.  A smile and a bit of enthusiastic bargaining can work wonders … 

There are more corners of the house that I love but won’t show yet in this blog.  I’ll save the other works of art and favorite places for when you folks come over some pretty, sunshiney afternoon … when we’ll talk about books and film and friends and life … over glasses of dalandan juice and slices of carrot cake …