when my grandfather passed away last year, my cousin bea and I turned the space into this marc quinn-ish garden growing out of oriental rugs. all sorts tropical flowers species mixed with colorful stargazers, and other 'western' flowers (I will get killed if anyone reads about this in manila). down to the scent... we even made sure it smelled like paradise (l'artisan candles)! we also did all the 'thank you' cards- a molto cool rephotograph of him in his 20's in rome (bea said..'oooh it looks like he's saying hello from the eternal city' and called it eternal paradise)! a few days ago, my grandmother passed away. I don't know if it's just me, but I seriously think that everyone must leave/live (same thing) in style.***for the funeral, I wore a grey margiela vest over a black jil sander top, with drawstring heavy cotton linen yohji trousers and black balenciaga wedges... (sorry, about that)
so, efrem, I'm not sure if there is some god out there... maybe 'style', art, and the small funny things might not be so bad... to me funkiness is paradise(god???)!
live free!daft punk - digital love
player - biggest part of me
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