Despite the fact that this was taken on a day where the framing tool in my brain refused to function, I really enjoy this shot. I don't know if I didn't want to photograph Chicago or if Chicago didn't want to be photographed, but the former seems unlikely. I mean, frigid cold + gnarly winds = very pleasant Alli, so I can't imagine what happened there.

I probably shouldn't have tweaked it so much too, but I kinda got obsessed with the colors of the sky's gradient and it was all downhill from there.

All right, Bean, you win. I couldn't get what I wanted, so this will have to do.

Happy?

I sure hope so, because I think you should know that you really need to be cleaned and I don't have the patience to do it in post. However, you do look much better from this angle. Have you lost weight?

Yes, I am the girl that buys the toothpaste with the glittering box, just because it's sparkling.

I just admitted that to cyberspace, didn't I?

Heck, while I'm at it, I accidentally dressed myself in all pink today. Glasses, sweater, ring, watch, scarf, hat, gloves... in honor of the late Mr. Myron Cope, "double yoi."

In my opinion, it is quite unfortunate that most females on this planet don't understand the art of makeup and the value in taking the proper time to learn the contours of your face. Even more unfortunate is that most men don't understand that for those of us that do dabble in this ancient art, we aren't doing it to make up for "what is lacking on the inside." The only thing that's lacking is your perspective.

If you understand light and you understand your face, every time you step into the mirror, you have a fresh palette to visually parallel what IS on the inside.

Haha, cheesy, but truth be told, a lot of us are just enamored with change. I like to call it the magic show.

Rachael, our beautiful artiste for this weekend, did a fabulous job, per the usual. This makeup style is fantastically fun, but obviously for very, VERY rare occasions.

This chick was totally not afraid to rock out. I dig it and I'll ditto that mohawk.

Well I've been back a week and I'm already running around like a nut, but if you know me, you know that that is fantastic.

What I've heard from many people recently is that they can't seem to understand why I work so much. In the 2nd most simple way I can explain this, I will say that it's because my work allows me to do things that I otherwise wouldn't be able to do and with such rapidity that sometimes, this blog is the only way I can keep track of me. I generally get pretty disappointed when people tell me to stop working, because that means they really don't understand what I am doing. My work involves meeting crazy people, seeing beautiful things, experiencing life in ways that a 9-5 would never enable me to do. And what of personal relationships, they ask? I say you have no idea how they can grow until you see the results of a collaborative group of truly motivated, passionate people. Imagine working with your best friends, all the time, all over the world. Crazy idea, huh?

This weekend was one of those projects, where we just had a blast with our work. Knowing 2 of 7 of our team beforehand, by the time Sunday rolled around, it was as if we had known each other for years.

But anyway, I'll shut it... actual work aside, my job gave me the long-awaited opportunity to visit Bedford Springs, a treasure of Pennsylvania history about two hours outside Pittsburgh. I won't tell you the story because if you are truly interested, you will check out the site and I don't have to bore you like your 7th grade history teacher (Mr. Hyland, not you, you totally weren't boring... although you were the only teacher ever to give me detention- even if your big heart could only stand it for 30 seconds), but if you want my version at a later date, I won't be shy about it.

Oh wait, what's that? You want to know the simplest way to explain why I work so much?

MONEY.



Hahaha, totally just kidding... bottom line is that I frickin' love my job.

I finally got around to resizing this darn thing - just a small glimpse into the magnanimity of King Rama IX's 80th birthday, otherwise known as one of the best nights of my life thus far.

Note to Carlo: That is NOT, I repeat, NOT a Canon SLR you see sitting on my lap... you are getting sleeeeeepy, Ssleeeeeeppy....



Footage courtesy of FTV

This is Pat.

I wish I could say that this was my photograph, but it is, and not regrettably, the genius of another Pittsburgh photographer who I happen to work with quite frequently.

Now this is a portrait if I ever saw one. Pat is the parking attendant in one of the theater district lots on Penn Ave. of whom I had the honor and complete pleasure of meeting and visiting with today. Huddled in his little parking booth in the freezing cold with a teeny, tiny space heater was the best thing I've done since I got home. As I watched the snow disintegrate in puddles through the one-panel plexiglass window, I realized that this little workspace and all of its parole-abiding employees have a hysterically honest story. I mean, heck, his character alone was so priceless that my little shaking body didn't even mind the Burgh's standard mid-winter chill.

Mind you, my introduction to Pat started with Matt bursting through the booth's door saying, "You look at my sister that way and I'll kick your ass!," or something to that ridiculous effect.

Haha... Allll in good fun, allll in good fun, but I will say that Pat's explanation of how to "let'em jag-offs wahnda fur ehrs" in the parking garage of the U.S. Steel Tower (I believe he still called it USX), which apparently is of the most impressively large parking garages in the city, couldn't possibly have been more eloquent.

If you're ever "dahn er," ask Pat if he prefers the pocket knife or the icepick and you will get a shockingly truthful answer.

Oh and I believe Matt titled this photo, "Get Your Ticket."

It's uncharacteristic for this blog to see this many (yes, two) group shots, but this was the perfect farewell - full of friends and colleagues who made for an irreplaceable six months.

Salamat babies!

Some crazy kids perched atop a mountain in Baguio, our final stop on Tour de Luzon.

This shot is further proof that handing your SLR to the standard, everyday security guard is not always the best idea. I think I got up at least twice to adjust and re-frame, though all the settings had already been fixed. Kills the moment sometimes, but still, a moderately good shot.

A briefing of important things I learned:

Pia and David are engaged
Seven people with luggage CAN fit into a Mitsubishi SUV
Cho is jealous of my relationship with Tim Cruz, though definitely not for me (wafka pare!)
By vote, attraction is defined by "genitals"
Videoke is a national pastime
Musta naman, Dwight
Horses don't like flowers tied to their heads
Chicken is chicken, even if it is a one-day-old chick on a stick
Ube jam, is not, in fact, jam
Trox would like to be Zorro someday


And furthermore, why did no one tell me we were that close to Banaue?

Photoshop could make that beautiful a hue, but I assure you this image was not touched.

Taken in Vigan on the next leg of our trip, Vigan Church was one of the least interesting parts about this place. Although the church is a very nice specimen of Spanish architecture, this town is full of cool things to explore.

Seemingly stuck in the past, Vigan has managed to successfully preserve most of its heritage, not allowing new companies to tear down buildings and replace them with modern ones. So basically, things like McDonald's and KFC do exist here, just nestled inside buildings that are 400 years old.

Also important to note: I had a delicious plate of unshelled chili scallops in one of the tiny cafes, following, of course, a planned appetizer of Vigan's famous street empanadas.

I believe Trox was relieving himself when he looked over the beach house wall to see the tail-end of the sunset and yelled to me to grab my camera. Gotta love a true artist.

A captured curve- not too shabby, if you ask me.

And if any of you say, "what curve? there's no curve," I will slap you.

As usual, my little Filipino friends do not disappoint me in their photogenic ways.

This shot was taken on the steps of a church in Ilocos, though I unfortunately can't recall the name. It may have something to do with all the signs being in Tagalog or perhaps me not really paying attention, but who knows.

Shooting this church was quite the critical decision because the boys were heading to the market to pick up some fresh tuna and other fun things for our grilling extravaganza at Cho's beach house (total cost of dinner and breakfast the morning after 600 pesos or about $10). So it was either church, or market...

First of all, everyone knows how much I love food markets and second of all, I wasn't really sure where I was going to get better images... boys maneuvering market or historical church.

They obviously ended up dropping me off to wander, but I think I made the wrong choice.

After Cho lost his Johnny Depp hat in the Foreign Affairs building, we set off to San Augustin Church in Intramuros, Manila.

Intramuros, literally meaning "within the walls," is a 4km pentagonal piece of land that was the center of Spanish activity during the colonial period, completed with 22m walls and all, in 1606.

The cool thing about San Augustin is that it is one of the only structures left standing in Intramuros after the Battle of Manila in 1945. Yes, the church had many other mishaps, but pretty much nothing was left after this little scuffle.

Also worth noting, Spanish conquistadors, Miguel López de Legazpi, Juan de Salcedo and Martín de Goiti rest under this church.

P.S. - Oh and in case you were wondering, Cho got his hat back.

My first night in Manila, Cholo took me to his sister-in-law's "house"(I know the period is always supposed to go inside the quotation mark with some exceptions, but I just think it looks awkward, so I'm going to try to distract you with a long parenthetical that really has nothing to do with anything).

So yes, by house, I mean extraordinarily beautiful and rather large piece of architecture set atop a hillside in Manila.

As a filmmaker, he's quite fortunate to have such locations at his disposal and as a photographer, I'm glad to be his friend haha, and not only because he is one of the most genuinely kind people I have ever met.

Anyway, the above is a shot of the ceiling/chandelier in the two-story, balcony-rimmed party house.

A separate structure for entertaining? And I thought my gift-wrapping room was borderline ... well, necessary.

Bangkok has a really sweet airport and if I hadn't been a tad rushed, there would have been cooler pictures.

Actually I had a whole conclusive schpeel (haha sp?) for this picture, but I forget now. The important part about it is that I was leaving to catch up with Cholo in Manila for what would be an epic journey north.

Sunrise over sea.


Hong Kong to Guangzhou to (almost Saigon)* to Bangkok means a lot of days at sea.


*This occurrence has prompted me to make a very productive life decision a lot sooner than I would have otherwise. That's how stupefying it happened to be.

Over a bottle of tequila at a dinner table in Pittsburgh one enchanted evening, John McClellan and I have a nice, long discussion about "novel ideas," you know, ideas that are just too good to pass up.

I receive this sometime much later:

john1amerpie: we had a tramp board
john1amerpie: but no tramp
john1amerpie: but some time on our hands
john1amerpie: so i had what i believed was a novel idea
john1amerpie: ...almost toasted my sprinkler system

CUT TO:

(sitting quietly at a table in an overly incandescent frame, interview style, hands folded)

john1amerpie: well...my pap always said "better to be a smartass than a dumbass"



Not being present for the above photo has made me reconsider my life goals. So, like yeah, slope shredding is totally on the agenda. duh.

A girl walks into an audio store in Mongkok to buy headphones after sufficient hours of research and a thought-provoking cab ride from a fantastic dinner. Sifting through six different currencies in her make-shift ziplock wallet, she hears the digital bleeps of the cash register and the oh-so-satisfying sound of the receipt paper spouting from the machine. In all of her eagerness, she politely motions to the Asian sales clerk that she really needs this bulky package open... and now, please.

And at last, the audio world is hers. After months of shit, she's pretty damn close to perfection. With the crisp sounds of the treble, the energy of the vocal midrange and the low, smooth flow of the bass, nothing else matters in the entire world. She would know, because she isn't exactly close to home.

Where to go from here? Doesn't matter. She cruises around Mongkok on foot, with no other objective in mind than to listen. She could only share the next few hours with some of her oldest friends, christening the ear pieces with arguably the masters of rock'n'roll: Pete, Keith, Roger and John. Perhaps it's a tribute to her dad that this motley crew beat out the likes of Jimmy, Robert and John^2, or perhaps she just wants to hear the re-mastered studio tracks as close as they were meant to be heard without the concert amps of the early 1970s.

If you don't know the album, shame on you. If you don't know the boys, you don't know the girl.

Any questions?


P.S. From Mozart's Concerto #6 in B Flat to "Flamenco Sketches" to the echoes on "Talk Show Host" to Gotan to uh, anything by Mariah Carey, these babies are, as Mr. Curda would say, "swingin'."

What a cool place. For a girl who loves stories just as much as her tea, she came to the right place. Opening in the early 1930s, Luk Yu Teahouse is not only rich in Chinese history and culture, but has somewhat of a darker side as well.

In November of 2002, a Chinese assassin casually walked into Luk Yu, had his breakfast, paid his bill, walked over to his target, shot him in the head and walked out. Totally B-movie, Hong-Kong-gangster style. If it wasn't unfortunately true, you would think the story had been scripted. Even the setting, the old ceiling fans to the aged wooden molding to the mirrored booths, is right off of the silver screen.

Its infamy aside, Luk Yu is most famous for its tea, dim sum (served from 7:00 a.m. to 5:30 p.m.) and "indifferent" service, though I somehow missed the last part.

In fact, my waiter was great. Making friends rather quickly over discussions about such things as the perfect tea pot and Chinese dining etiquette, Sham ended up being my partner in crime in smuggling one of the tea pots out of the restaurant. Mind you, I had asked how much it would cost, but he simply shook his head, went back to the kitchen and came back with one of the pots wrapped in brown paper.

Shoving it in my vacant camera bag with his encouraging words of "quick, quick!" and slightly paranoid glances, I casually resumed my meal, quite happy with our stealth. About seven minutes later, Sham reappeared with five brown bags of Bo Lai (tea mentioned in previous entry), and again his, "quick, quick!"

So dessert rolled around and by Sham's recommendation, I ordered the almond cream, pictured above. I've had it before, but not like this. The egg whites were so smooth and each flavor of the soup, from the almonds to the thick cream, was so individually identifiable, but still created a wonderfully elegant combination of tastes. Gastronomic perfection in a bowl.

Slurping the soup and enjoying the last of my tea, Sham came back over with one of the tea cups and its matching saucer.

"Quick, quick!"

At this rate, I thought I was going to acquire the whole darn dining set and was beginning to worry about how much more I was going to be able to fit into my camera bag without looking like Robin Hood and Little John robbing the prince's caravan.

Needless to say, I left Sham a very nice tip for all of his "services" and decided it was about time to go buy some sweet headphones.

And not only did I find my headphones, but thirteen Hitchcock movies for six bucks.


This is what I call a great day.