Tonight we went to CCP (Cultural Center of the Philippines) for the AGOS (Artists' Guild of Sta. Maria) exhibit. My mom's friend from high school was one of the artists, and Kuya Ace had been asked to sing. So we went. Even though Kuya Ace felt sick, he sounded good when he performed. Hehe. I'm so proud of my brother.

The exhibit was cool. All the pieces were great, and there were about three that really really really awed me. Two of those were by Ed Garbes (I hope I got the name right). Hehe. Not a renowned artist yet, but I think he's gonna make it big pretty soon. Most of the artists were pretty young... I mean I think they were at most 5 years older than me (except for my mom's friend and a few others, of course).

Cocktails were served, and about an hour into the exhibit, Kuya JB, his girlfriend and I were standing by one of the tall, small tables (what do call those?) they had. Then, suddenly, this old guy in a barong (like most of the other guys and artists there) comes and stands beside me, puts his plate on our table, and starts eating. In my mind, I went, "Uh...Who're you?" seeing that there were other tables he could have used. But of course I said nothing out loud. Then another guy comes, and goes, "Sir, here's the list."

The old guy goes, "Ah, yes, yes... How much is the piece again?"

"15,000, sir."

Without hesitation, the old guy whips out a check and writes on it. Homhayghulay. P15,000. Fifteen thousand!

So many zeroes... @_@

After the transaction ended, the old guy continues eating. I ate my delicious barbecue in peace while Kuya JB and Ate Steph go back to the food table for seconds (there were a lot of food). That time that I stood beside this old guy in a barong, I couldn't help but wonder who he was. There was something about him that told me that he was someone important, even if you take away the fact that he was rich. It was funny because he didn't talk like a powerful man or anything... In fact, he was a bit laid back (reminds me of a surfer for some reason), and he keeps bumping his elbow on me. After a few hits, he laughingly apologized, and finally inched away a bit so he wouldn't hit me again. But even after all this, there was still that nagging feeling that he was someone I should know.

The whole thing was simply weird.

He turns to me again, saying, "May may-ari ba nito?" pertaining to the almost full glass of iced tea on the table.

"Uh...Opo," I answer. "Sa nanay ko po..."

"Ah, gano'n ba? O, sige."

"Gusto n'yo pong ikuha ko po kayo?"

"Ah, hindi na, hija. Salamat."

By this time, Kuya JB had returned, and the old guy finished eating.

"Sige," he says, "enjoy the exhibit."

"Sige po," I say, smiling, just before he turned around and walked away. Because of his comment, I wondered if he was one of the organizers or something.

My mom had returned to the table at this point.

"Ma, do you know who that artist was?" I asked as I lifted my glass to drink.

My mom smiled, and her answer nearly made me choke on my iced tea.


"Napoleon Abueva."


"..."


GAH!!!!!!


I turned towards the direction he walked off to so fast you'd think my neck would break. And there he was, casually looking at some artwork. I wanted to go on over and talk to him, but I suddenly realized that I wouldn't know what to say. I mean, sure, I appreciate art, but I'm not really an enthusiast or anything. I know practically nothing about paint and sculpture and art history... I knew NADA that can carry me through an intelligent conversation with him. I had considered just striking a not-so-intelligent conversation (no point in pretending, right?) but I didn't know how to do it, though. And every time I gather my guts and stop myself from being starstruck, someone else beats me to it and talks to him.

I just shared a table with a National Artist, and I didn't even know it.

And so the night went on and I thought I had lost my chance to talk to a man of brilliance. So I resigned to just scrutinizing and studying each artwork. I was appreciating this piece done with Pastel on felt paper when yet another guy in a barong stands beside it, and says, "Uh...miss, can you excuse us? Magpapapicture lang kami."

I realized at once that this was the artist of the piece I was looking at, so I smiled and said, "Sure," as I turned to see who he was going to have a photo taken with.

Napoleon Abueva.

Again.

He goes, "Excuse, a."

I just smiled like an idiot and managed a weak "Opo..." as I stepped back and out of the shot.

And, argh. My PR powers couldn't handle the greatness. I slinked back to our table, mentally kicking myself.

A few minutes later, Abueva was slowly making his way to the exit, and I thought that I was about to curse my occasional cowardice. But then, I got an idea. One that was so freaking simple, I couldn't believe I didn't think of it earlier. I went to my mom and whispered: "Ma, ask Tita Bing to ask Napoleon Abueva if he can have a photo taken with us." And so she did, and he did.

Wheeeee! I not only shared a table with Napoleon Abueva, but I had talked to him (no matter how unimportant the "conversation" was), and had a photo taken with him! And he shook my hand (he had a good grip, too)!

^______________^

Lessons learned for the night:
1.) Muster up your guts in the presence of greatness. Great people are still people. You can have a conversation with them even without trying to be knowledgeable in their field.
2.) Great things can come in humble packages.
3.) Art exhibits are FUN!

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