Author Archives: Alan Ilagan

A Butterfly Recap

Andy called me outside to see it when the heat began. At the sun’s zenith, we peered down into the empty pool frame and looked at the sand. There, fluttering about, was this beautiful butterfly. A dark wonder dotted with markings of blue, it toured the cavernous sand pit, rising out of the depths and crossing first by Andy and then by me. It swung around the weeping larch, then brushed past us again. Pausing at the cup plant, doting on the ostrich ferns, and finally soaring over the dogwood and into the sky beyond our yard, it would come back to visit a couple of times over an overheated weekend. Summer is at hand. On with the weekly recap…

Our backyard tried to keep us cool.

The mask as artful accessory.

This #TinyThread poked through the heat.

Zac Efron’s shirtless and widely-appreciated new body

Ring these lady-bells.

Duck this.

Summer evening by Tom Ford.

Not 200 balloons, but one.

Rock out with your mock out

Shasta not shy

Pretty pooper without a party.

Summer-sweet.

In a world of racists, be an antiracist.

Breath of the ocean.

97 degrees.

Hunks of the Day included Daveed Diggs and Calvin Martin.

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97 Degrees

Ok, universe, we get it.

We learned our lesson well, whatever it was we were supposed to learn.

Ease up on this heat until our pool is back in effect, please.

For fuck’s sake.

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Madonna Even Taught Me How To Breathe

It was during the summer of 1998 and the magnificent ‘Ray of Light’ period when Madonna taught the world (or at least the portion of the world watching ‘The Rosie O’Donnell Show’ at the time) how to engage in Ujjayi breathing. Newly-obsessed with yoga, it was a breathing technique she employed when practicing, and as was the case with so many of Madonna’s obsessions it trickled down to me. To this day, I narrow my windpipe and slow the breath when I meditate, and it has become a simple but effective way of calming my body.

Known also as the ‘ocean breath’ it is a deep breathing technique that uses the diaphragm and stomach as the main means of propelling air, as opposed to the upper chest that most people use out of habit and ease. First, you close your mouth and breath through your nose. Narrow your throat and air passageway so the breath is constricted and slowed. The breath and air should be noticeably louder now as you’re passing more air through a smaller space, and the accompanying effect sounds similar to an ocean in the distance. Using your belly first, expand your diaphragm so air fills the space, opening and allowing it to move into your rib cage and finally up into your chest and throat. Slowly exhale in the same time that you inhaled. (That time will differ according to comfort level, and at first it will be as quick as your regular breathing sequence – the goal is to gradually elongate the breaths.)

It may feel slightly suffocating at first, but just keep breathing, retaining a sense of calm and regularity, focusing on the breath and the sounds and the way you are slowly opening up your belly and rib cage and chest, allowing the air to fill in those spaces like light, expanding that space and pushing ever outward. I’ve found that this helps with any back pain I’ve had too. We often neglect to use a huge portion of our lungs when we breathe, taking shallow and more frequent breaths instead of focusing on slowing things down. If you have ever been aware of your breathing as you fall asleep, you will find it veers closer to the calm and measured deliberate cadence of Ujjayi breathing.

This is how I breathe when I meditate, and it’s been helpful in moving past the first uncomfortable weeks of not quite knowing or understanding what meditation method would work best for me. By employing this breathing technique, I could focus on the breath above all else. That was enough to capture enough focus so I could meditate with a mostly uncluttered mind for a few minutes each day. Once that was done, and once I had a feel for what that clarity felt like, I understood the point of meditation.

It won’t work for everyone. Some people like to focus on a body scan to eliminate distracting thoughts, or have a mindful intention on a certain feeling of calm or relaxation that holds their focus – the important thing is that your mind is clearing itself for a few minutes and you understand what that feels like. It is a release and a relief, and once you access that you can, ideally, bring it into the rest of your day. If done consistently, it will spill over into your regular life, training your brain not to be overwhelmed with racing thoughts and worries. That’s the ultimate benefit of meditation in my life, and why I keep pushing it onto my friends and family. (It turns out I’m a terrible pusher because no one has found similar joy in it – mostly because my friends are too high-strung and engaging to be able to sit still for five minutes. It’s why I get such a kick out of them. Sadly, I think they’re the very people who would benefit most from slowing down and finding a space for quiet and stillness and silence. That’s the way of the world.)

As for Ujjayi breathing, it’s become a place of refuge, a practice that can be employed anywhere at any time, and it instantly produces a peace because I’ve training my mind and body into receiving it as such. It’s a way of conjuring the undulating tranquility of the ocean while in the midst of an arid desert. As we prepare for the possibility of hunkering down at home, it’s more important than ever to find such mechanisms of escape and peace.

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In A World of Racists, Be an Antiracist

Almost every single person who grew up in America is racist. You, me, and just about every other American we will ever encounter has been raised in a country where racism has been embedded for centuries. In the most basic ways, we are united in our racism. That’s not an easy thing to say, and it’s even harder to accept. Yet accepting that and coming to the realization of it is the first step in becoming an antiracist. Such is the challenge of overcoming racism as proposed by Ibram K. Kendi in his powerful book ‘How To Be An Antiracist’.

Like many of my open-minded friends, I’ve always prided myself on being one of the least racist people I know. Even the most harmless of racial jokes, made by the person whose race was the topic, always rubbed me the wrong way. Even when joking with fellow Filipinos about our culture, and painting a group of people with broad strokes, even when done in an affectionate and adoring way, made me uneasy. I heard it in family and friends, from strangers on the street and from the television and movie screen. I was keenly aware of those moments when we separated ourselves and attributed differences to each other based on race. At times, I may have been too keenly aware.

The first time I introduced Suzie to Andy and he said, “Oh, Suzie Chapstick!” I was about to leave his house because I thought he was making a chopstick reference to her Asian heritage, when in reality he was referencing a not-quite-famous-enough Chapstick commercial that I’d never seen. That’s how sensitively attuned my racial antennae were.

So it came as a somewhat of a shock to realize that despite how careful I’d been, I was still upholding racist notions and policies simply by existing and not actively working against them. Because at this point in our history, the racial inequities are so vast and irrefutable that simply not being racist is no longer enough, and complacency in allowing such inequities to remain is a racist act in itself. That’s a harsh truth to take, and some will argue against it. That’s their right. That’s your right. But for me, I am owning up to being a part of the system, and the first step in changing that is in such ownership.

Too many well-meaning people like to claim they are ‘colorblind’ and that they don’t see color or race, treating everyone as equal, and in an ideal world of equality this would work. But we don’t live in that ideal world. Far from it. The numbers don’t lie, and until such time as the racial inequities are erased, simply standing by and starting each day as if we are all equal ignores those inequities. It dismisses the fundamental and real state of our country. And it is, in its tacit agreement to go with the status quo, an act of racism. That took a while to sink in and understand. It took a while to re-examine my entire life with such a startling perspective. And, in the end, it helped me see that I was a racist in not doing more.

“The most threatening racist movement is not the alt right’s unlikely drive for a White ethnostate but the regular American’s drive for a “race-neutral” one,” Kendi writes. “The construct of race neutrality actually feeds White nationalist victimhood by positing the notion that any policy protecting or advancing non-White Americans toward equity is “reverse discrimination.””

That’s a startling concept when you think about it. In a sterile environment where we start from a place of equality, the idea of not seeing someone’s race or color is, in abstract form, seemingly the most equal and fair way to begin. But we are not living in a sterile environment of equality; we are living in a country and world of socially-constructed hierarchies and labels, and they are so deeply ingrained in our make-up from birth, that it is very difficult for people to understand that we will never be able to truly start from a point of equality because that world has not existed in many lifetimes. That realization unlocked a lot of things for me, and looking at what is going on in our country now, I understand a little better.

This is my way of changing. It begins with a book. It begins with a blog post. It begins with sharing this with a friend, and another friend, and another friend. It begins with being open to something new, and open to changing long-held beliefs. It begins by opening up to being imperfect, to being racist at times. Most importantly, it begins by opening up to being antiracist, and all the challenges and hopes and possibilities that in turn opens up.

{You may order ‘How To Be An Antiracist’ here; also check out Ibram X. Kendi’s website here.}

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Putting the Sweet in a Bittersweet Summer

Current Pool Status: waiting for a light bulb

Current Mood: pensive/resigned

Current weather: changeable, with a strong breeze

While we wait for the pool to reopen (originally planned for May, I figured it wouldn’t happen until the end of July – and quite frankly I’ve given up on it happening this summer so as to stave off any disappointment). Chalk it up to the wreck of this year of our Lord 2020. 

To get us through these end-times, I’ve been meditating and reading and going to therapy, all of which have helped transform and reset my sense of self, and interior renovation of the soul that’s brought about a new sense of peace and contentment, while instilling a more genuine sense of self-confidence that previously had mostly been rather superficial. That’s the deep part of this post, the unseen machinations of what goes on beneath the placid surface of prettiness I like to put on display here.

That prettiness finds expression in this little bouquet of summer sweet from the front garden. It’s the ultimate summer flower, coming into bloom at this sultry time of the season when the days can be viciously hot. If given an ample dose of water they will spread almost invasively, and producing these subtle but potently-perfumed spires of bloom. Justifying their common name of summer sweet (scientifically known as Clethra), these blooms are powerfully fragrant with a sweet floral note that is reminiscent of a lily – rich and exotic and an absolute favorite of bees, who know a thing about sweet flowers.

This is the first time I’ve picked a stalk for an inside bouquet, which is strange given its natural perfume. Thus far, it’s taken well to being plucked – I would advise only cutting the green and tender parts of the stem – these can bloom close to older wood, and anything that has hardened will not be as amenable to taking in water. If the stem has hardened, you might try crushing or splitting it to allow for easier intake of water.

In a little bouquet like this, it’s also easily transported from room to room, so wherever you may be working or living can be instantly transformed into a fragrant window looking into a portal of summer sweet beauty.

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Pretty Pooper

There aren’t many things that I consider true game-changers, but this is one of them: the bathroom bouquet. For some reason I usually reserve them for when we have guests, but the other day I remembered how nice it was to have something pretty to look at on the toilet. When you think about it, the one place where I am guaranteed to be at least once every single day is facing the toilet and looking down. First thing in the morning and last thing at night. Without fail. 

I wish I’d remembered the transformation such a little thing made long ago. We’ve been cooped up here with an available backyard flower supply since May. Better late then never, and who knows how long we will be needing such niceties? This simple little bouquet is a single fern frond and one hydrangea bloom – proof that the littlest things can make the biggest difference, especially in a corner where the only item of interest is a toilet handle. 

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Shasta Not Shy

The moniker of ‘Shasta daisy’ seems to have gone away in popular usage, but maybe it’s still in vogue in certain circles. I don’t recall the full Latin name of the chrysanthemum variety that comprises this clump of Shasta daisies, but that’s unimportant. Labels mean less and less these days. That’s a good evolution. For such a simple flower, this post already feels unnecessarily complicated. Let’s turn it back to simplicity, and the easy brush with happiness these sunny faces bring just by blooming, by existing, by simply being what they were meant to be. 

What a powerful and easy concept when we let the universe take its course without force or exertion. Mindfulness is a practice that takes, well, practice. It’s tough to find at first, but the lesson is right there in these flowers. In the moment it takes to look at each bloom – at each petal and each sunny center – the rest of the world falls slightly away, the worries receding in the immediate brush with beauty. That’s the first spark of mindfulness. You might not even realize it when it happens: I had stopped to smell the roses my entire life, but never went much further. It’s the next step that leads you to the sublime. 

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Making a Mock Out of a Cock

Some cocktails are tailor-made for mocktail form, such as this Virgin Mary or a margarita, where the strong supporting flavors can carry a drink without proper alcohol. Others, such as the martini or gin and tonic, require a formidable substitute for the gin or vodka that’s missing. To that end, a few products have come on the market to make up for the key ingredients in something like this lavender cocktail, which in previous incarnations has relied on gin as its main ingredient. 

Luckily, the lavender syrup provides the requisite flavor and mask to lift the gin-alternative (a benign peppery zero-proof gin-like concoction that has just enough edge to trick the tongue into half-believing it’s the real deal) and it’s really all about that lavender flavor anyway. 

It’s also about presentation and appearance, and a single lavender stalk to lend enchantment to a summer afternoon cocktail hour. The real gin is hardly missed at all. 

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Balloon Baby

This balloon flower always surprises me, hidden away in a side garden that is lush and filled with foliage, and its own unobtrusive foliage rises without calling attention to itself. By the time it comes into bud, the surrounding plants have already pulled focus and attention from its show. A Rose-of-Sharon reaches far over the balloon flower’s head, while a honeysuckle vine winds its way up the wooden fence. A patch of Solomon’s seal, brought in by a bird many years ago, has finished flowering so I don’t notice the ascension of the balloon buds. 

It’s steadily and steadfastly performed this way for several years without any help or coddling from me, and as such it deserves a little award. That meant doing a little research before I amend the surrounding soil and see if it’s in a spot conducive to its happy habitat. I don’t remember planting this, so I have a feeling it’s another gift from the garden that was here, or the result of a seed dropped by some bird in a stroke of luck. I’ve read that these plants don’t like to be disturbed, which is good to know before digging in and moving it somewhere else. Truth be told, it’s perfectly fine where it is, so I’ll just do a little top-dressing of manure and keep it well-watered for the rest of the summer. Loyalty is always appreciated in these parts; it’s time to pay this little pretty guy back. 

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Summer Evening by Tom Ford

His exquisite Portofino summer line is my go-to for special summer outings, and Tom Ford has provided the fragrant accompaniment to many an elegant evening. This summer, there aren’t many moments of gathering or excitement, and so I make a moment out of the mundane through the simple application of these products on an otherwise-uneventful night. Memories of the beach in Cape Cod and summer drives along the Thruway, and fancy dinners out for birthdays and anniversaries. In other words, these are the scents of happiness, and on this evening I can reinhabit those lost days and nights. Summer is here, past and present, and it will be again, perhaps in find form. 

Besides, Tom Ford offers great comfort in these perilous times, and in more meaningful manner than might be expected. With the 20th anniversary of the day I met Andy quickly approaching in a few days, I’m reminded of this quote by Mr. Ford: “When you find somebody good, keep them in your life.” Style and substance, with a few grace notes of elegance and love. 

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For Duck’s Sake

When my brother and are were kids, Mom would take us to Cooperstown to visit the Farmer’s Museum. While there we would find a spot near some water where a family of ducks swam. We’d throw them some bread and delight at their proximity. It was my favorite part of the trip. I didn’t need the boredom of the Baseball Hall of Fame or the dull agricultural history lessons of the Farmer’s Museum, or even the barnyard of animals in their working village. All I needed were a few simple ducks, waddling along and wading into water, where they took majestic form and found their metaphorical footing on a cloud of liquid. We always wanted to stay there longer than we could.

The memory came back to me when taking a couple of fun rubber duck photos in front of our current pool situation. Ducks have been a motif around the pool this crazy year, in various forms as our pool goes through various incantations. Maybe 2020 will be the nightmare from which we all awake like Bobby in the shower on ‘Dallas‘. That dates me, and to be honest I know more about it from reading about it years after it happened. I wasn’t even watching ‘Dallas’ then, aside from the opening credits. My, what a wandering along memory lane. I’m losing track of where we even are. Maybe that’s for the best. We are all itching for an escape.

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All Hail the Adenophera

More commonly called Ladybells (ring them!) this is a species of Adenophera, which some people consider a weed. They’re such happy little plants, however, I’ve only ever encouraged them, even if I did have some trouble with their form. Life being the fickle creature that it is, I’m down to this one single flower spike this year, perfectly emblematic of the bullshit that is so 2020. Still, one flower spike is better than no flower spikes, and I’ll see if I have the patience to let this one go to seed and perhaps spread itself about a bit more. I’m all for self-promotion in these parts. I can’t even begin to tell you how many places I’ve seeded myself… Hey, if we can’t get subliminally dirty in a gardening post, we don’t deserve to call ourselves gardeners. 

I’m am totally enamored with its shade of purple, especially against the lime-green backdrop of a ‘Guacamole’ hosta in the morning light. It’s a stunning, unplanned combination that brings out the best in both. 

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All in for Zac Efron’s Body

Some have harshly judged Zac Efron’s latest body pics when comparing him with Zac Efron’s previous body pics, which is a whole other level of body shaming I’m not even going to get into right now. Besides, if you look at this man’s body and find anything remotely wrong with it, get the fuck out of here because there’s something seriously wrong with the way you view the human figure. Our reservoir of fucks has run dry – we have none left to give. As for Mr. Efron, he actually seems more popular than ever with this new hirsute look, and I’m all in for it. Let’s take a look at some of his previous appearances here because, well, Zac Efron naked and Zac Efron nude are made for sexy Zac Efron click-bait. 

There are a number of highly specific categories in which Zac Efron appears sans various items of clothing. Let’s examine a few highlights:

The naked tease.

Shirtless with a hint of bulge

Shirtless in motion, with tousled hair. 

Accepting an MTV Movie award after ripping his shirt off.

Simple shirtless pose.

Golfing without a shirt.

Riding a steed, no shirt.

Nude for all practical purposes.

Swinging shirtless on a rope while wet.

Posing shirtless with a camel, as one does. 

Naked ass in motion.

That freedom Speedo moment

Teased by the Gronk for his Speedo.

Mustachioed and bulging.

Super-hot GIFs.

Most recently (and can January 2019 really be the most recent Zac Efron entry we’ve had here?) he’s been flexing his fitness tips as seen here. Oops, I was wrong: he was showing off his naked ass subsequently here in his turn as Ted Bundy. 

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Tiny Threads: An Insignificant Series

When branding turns dangerous. Three corn cobs do not a difference make!

#TinyThreads

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Mask and You Shall Receive: Kema’s Kreations

Every year has its notable fashion accessory – for 2020 that must be the mask. It may not seem as fun as some silly ‘Sex & the City’ flower, but it serves both style and safety, which is more than most fashion fads can claim. Many of us are stocking up on masks for the foreseeable future, and if we can do it by supporting a local artisan, so much the better. Andy found Kema’s Kreations right on Orange Street in Albany, convenient to where my office is located, and Kema supplied the very first masks we bought back in March. Since then we and my parents have placed several orders, each time just as satisfied and pleased with her products, which are as pretty as they are comfortable. She offers a number of fabric options as well. As can be seen here, I found a mask to perfectly match one of my ties (and my black and white hair for that matter). As they say in ‘Steel Magnolias’, “The only thing that separates us from the animals is our ability to accessorize.”

To that end, a few talented designers have stepped in to provide masks at such an important and dire time in history. Kema is one of those artists who has used her designer seamstress skills to become a vital supplier of face masks. While she was happily going about her business, specializing in bags and embroidery, the pandemic hit, and masks were suddenly all the mandated rage. Turning her keen eye to the business possibility at hand, she shifted her products to include face masks, which suddenly took over in everyone’s haste and demand for face coverings.

Today she says the face masks are one of her most popular items, and given the variety and quality, along with the exceptional customer service she provides, it’s a moment of synergy where artistry and demand and function blissfully intersect. You can have her items personalized through embroidery too, so if you need something special or simply want to stand apart from the masked crowd, special requests are always entertained. If and when the mask business wanes, her bags and embroidery and other design options are worth a look (she has some great t-shirts too). Her website offers a recounting of her journey, revealing how she has come to hem and mend our crazy world.

She remembers the feeling of her 4-year old finger sliding across the tile floor, gently tracing its delicate floral pattern. The sun warming her face as a gentle breeze carries the scents and sounds of Panama throughout her mother’s sewing room as she was… Hemming and Mending.

Years later, home economics reawakened long suppressed memories of the time she spent with her mother in the warmth of her sewing room and all her beautiful and vibrant creations. Her deft fingers quickly set to work, and the admiration of classmates resulted in requests to wear her creation of long, straight lined dress with short sleeves. Kema created in her mind and developed her craft by Hemming and Mending.

The appreciation for her creations developed her confidence and she applied to Fashion Industries High School to major in fashion design and merchandising.  Her sewing addiction was supported by winning dance contests, always wearing a Kema original to showcase the finesse used to command the stage. Brooklyn’s Hoyt Street, and Delancey Street in Manhattan, were more than happy to share in her success.   Disenchanted by an industry that didn’t support the beauty of curvaceous women, Kema decided to design and create captivating pieces which accentuate the body in all its marvelousness.  Kema’s Kreations hems society’s definition of beauty by entertaining the senses with visual statements of amazement and mends the soul of its people by giving them original craftmanship to celebrate their unique beauty. ~ Kema’s Kreations

{For more information and to order face masks, visit Kema’s website here.}

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