Engagement Shoots: Lito Inso's Way

Pre-nup shoots or engagement shoots (as I would like to call it) is one thing very close to my heart in wedding photography. Some may see it as something that needs to be done before a wedding-- preparations for slideshow, etc. International weddings don't even have this (prenup shoots. they call it engagement shoots) but Filipino's love of photography has made this a pre-requisite in almost every wedding. Some may even think that this a scheduled location shoot and that beautiful venues are a necessity-- sunrise, sunset, beach, green gardens etc. But if you ask me what this means to me-- Engagement shoots are a celebration of the couple's love. It's a glimpse of how they view each other. It's getting to know the couple. Getting to know the photographer. Appreciating each other's uniqueness. Appreciating the couple's love. And this appreciation can be captured with a simple laughter, a frozen banter, an unknown glance, a secret touch of the hair. These gestures can be captured with or without the beautiful scenery. After all, beautiful moments are made by people, not by nature, not by sceneries. Although it can add more life to engagement shoots.. but what good are beautiful sceneries without great moments to capture?

Most of the comments I got is that they felt like they are dating again, relieving those days when they were just having their first date, feeling that giddiness and that warm, crazy atmosphere of love. These re-living of moments can be captured anytime, anywhere. You don’t have to go to that fancy restaurant again to relieve that feeling of your first date nor is it necessary to go to a beach where you first kissed to catch a sunset. Of course, I am not negating the fact that it helps a lot. If you come to think of it, the first kiss is the main event, not the sunrise. This is what I intend to catch in every engagement shoot. One can relieve their first kiss, their first kilig in a car, in Colon Street or wherever. The point is--- countless moments need not have fancy, multiple settings. To go from one place to another is just like preparing so much for the main event and missing half of the show. The travel and the effort to make it just like what it used to be can alter the mood of the couple and the photographer and when you get to that place, the moments are altered as well. And what you get is just a picture of miniature you’s in a grandeous background. Spontaneity is the name of the game for me. In every downtime caused by travel, preparation, etc., there are countless pure moments wasted. And the essence of the shoot is gone. So what I’m trying to say is—with spontaneity, lots of things can be done without any wasted time and memories.

The Last Days...

If today is my last day on earth, would I still do what I am doing now?
Would I still be what I am now?

If today is my last day on earth,
I’d like to tell you that I love you and that I am sorry.
I would hug you and cover you with embraces and kisses, no matter how corny it may seem
I would smile all day long and let you feel that my life is worth it all, just because you are there….
I would share with you my last ice cream cone and laugh with every joke you say
I’ll hold your hand without hesitation, without fear of being rejected
I’ll shout on top of the mountains and share a beer with you
I’ll record your laughter and replay it over and over again….
I’ll call you and say that you are missed, and that your presence matters…
I’ll thank you for being there for me in times when I am not the best person to be with…
I’ll videotape all our get-togethers and watch it with you…
I would wipe your tears and tell you that you are very special
And that life is not so bad after all….

Sunrises don’t last long…. The whisp of a wind doesn’t always linger…
Life is too short for resentments and hatred.
So grab a spoon, take a bite, fly that kite
Reach out and be heard…
Tell that person all your feelings and don’t let another minute pass by
For most of the times, we are too sure, too confident… that there’s always another tomorrow
Another time to say, I can always do it later…
I can always drop my pride the next day, for that person will always be there…
I will always be there…
But then again, you will never ever know…
When you can take a last glimpse of that smile
When you can last feel the touch of that hand
That warmth of the embrace
The brush of forgiveness…
When you can have the last opportunity to thank that person
Or say sorry
Or I love you….
Until his very last day on earth..

How ironic that now we are all adults, we forget that we were once kids…
Longing to be free, longing to be loved…
Reaching out and just letting things be….
Believing in wishing wells and fairy tales…
And of prayers and Coca Cola cans as birthday gifts…


How beautiful life would be if we do this everyday..
Living life without regrets, without hesitations, without fears…
Not wasting precious moments because of pride or anger or hurt
If one could just reach out and touch a soul
If one could just smile and heal a broken heart
If one would just be brave enough to say, “forgive me”
To balm the pains of scarred people…
Even if we do it once a day to one person, maybe…
Just maybe….
World peace can be achievable after all…

So if you are reading this,
I want to tell you that you really matter
And that life is so much more beautiful
Because you are there…
You have given me strength in each and every way
You make my life more meaningful
And you really are a blessing…
If today was my last day on earth,
I thank God that the days before that, were spent with you…
So thank you so much… for all that you are, for the moments that we have…
For the person that you are…
because with you, my life is all worth it….

Article: Arlyn "Ara" R. Abellana
Photos: Lito Chiu Inso

Clicking on the Last Day

RIGG Foto club, at its quest to have our cameras click themselves to some interesting subjects, found themselves at NSO photographing the last day of registration. Here are some of my pics on that day.

Bubbling with Hope
Little girl Leah (not real name), sends off her bubbles of hope while her parents wait for their turn to be registered voters.

A Little Piece of Hell
As the voters clammer up to have their forms filled out, one wouldn't want to be in this place-- aside from the very small area, it's scorching hot, much like having a little piece of hell.

Waiting in Vain
Evident in most Filipino situations, those who needed to exercise their rights wait in almost forever. Not everyone has the patience as Rosario (not real name) who's also waiting in line amongst the flock.

The Smirk of Innocence
Ah, the bliss of innocence. Sometimes, I wish I could have this kid Lemuel's (not real name) naivette, as he smirks at everyone who made fun of his "Superman" shirt, while throngs of people line up to get registered.

No Handcuffs in Voting
It's amazing how the freedom to vote expands its literal meaning. Even prisoners like tommy (not real name), assisted by cop Rolando (not real name), visited the site to have their names registered.

Photos by Lito Chiu Inso
Titles and Captions by Arlyn Reyes Abellana

Til We Meet Again

(A Eulogy for Carl)

There are just so many memories that standing up here is a both a challenge and a pain, but most of all an honor to be given an opportunity to say something about the miracle of a life which is Carl’s.

Let me start by sharing a recent thing that my little brother told my Mom. Arjo is like a son to Carl. Days ago, he was asked to play St. Benedict in their school play and he had diarrhea. He was worried. However, minutes after, he went to my Mom and said, “Mommy, it’s a miracle! Gi-ayo ko ni Kuya Carl (Kuya Carl healed me)!” And he recounted that he asked his Kuya Carl to heal him because his school play is important. And indeed, in his innocent mind, Carl helped him. And maybe he did. He regards Carl as a saint now. How I wish I have the same innocence, else the pain of acceptance won’t be that harsh. But thinking about it, Carl has always been a saint to us, in our family.

I stand here in behalf of my family who regards Carl as an additional member. I am very privileged when I was growing up because I do not just have one older brother, but two. My memories before are of Carl and Kuya being together in rough times and in good. When I was in first year high school, I was the envy of my classmates because I had two bodyguards. Imagine having two kuya’s stand by you during recess, having to screen out the boys and having to protect you while eating Senyang’s lumpia or having two buy you ice candy and fish balls.

Blood is always thicker than water, I have learned. When asked, I would always say, “Carl is my cousin” or “Carl is my kuya”. He’s not just kuya’s best friend but our brother, my Mom and Dad’s son, my lola’s apo. He was never any different. He was one of us.

Carl loved chocolate-covered donuts. And he loved chocolates. He also loved adventures, traveling and debating with my kuya. He loved cooking, and he would want to take my place everytime I sauté. He loved the smell of onions and garlic. He boasts of his menudo and mind you, he got that recipe from the back of a Del Monte label, and he perfected it to the point that his cooking is much better than where he got it. Beer hates him, he goes red after one glass and will be in bed later without a care in the world. However, it turned out that Carl developed what would turn out to be a lifelong infatuation of smoking. He loved to smoke, much to my father’s dismay. But then he was very successful in his smoking craft that he influenced my cousin Bimbo (oh well, with a little of my help) and my brother AG. Not a while later, they formed this Smoker’s Gang of sorts. Because of this, I gave the three of them jumbo cigarette-like toys during Christmas. The picture here denotes how they liked my gift at that time.

Carl was my confidante. I told him about a very sensitive personal issue and at that point, I considered him my friend. He just hugged me and said, “Everything will be alright”. He accepted my boyfriend Lito and amidst everyone’s knowledge, he told me that as long as I am happy, then everything will be alright. That’s Carl. Not only was he my confidante. He was my Kuya’s soundboard, my brothers’ listening ear, my Mom’s chatterbox, my dad’s trusted subordinate, my Mama’s treasure.

Carl was always present in almost all our family gatherings—graduations, Christmas, birthdays, kabil sessions, inuman sessions, my Kuya’s wedding where he was the best man, Gian’s baptism and Kuya Bimbo’s wedding, or even if there was no occasion. He would just pop in the house and hug my brothers and my sister and just hang out. He would ask for Mama’s ginaling and that’d be the day. He was so much a part of our lives that my sister Malyn gave him a pair of slippers last Christmas so that when he goes to our house, he can have his rubber shoes taken off and not worry about finding a pair of slippers. We also awarded him with an “adoption certificate” to officially make him our brother and my parents’ son. He would give us all gifts at Christmas and sign it “Merry Christmas, from Carl and Arjo”. He was also the VP for Internal Affairs in our Kabilang Building League because he’s noted for his tactful but assertive comments. And yes he is the glue that holds us together.

On my very first Friendster testimonial to Carl, I wrote there, “Ambot mag unsa mi kung wala si Carl sa among kinabuhi (I don’t know what we will do without Carl in our lives)”. And with greater intensity, I am wondering the same thing. He was a very very big part of our lives—his selfless sacrifice to our family (most especially when Dad had a stroke, he was there supporting us), his ability to bear pain without complaint, his very assertive attitude, all his jokes (corny or not so corny), his advices, his smile, his friendship, his kasaba, his smoking, his mere presence. All these were the core of his nature.

He was like a child all throughout and without him, God knows how we can ever ever fill that void he left to me and to my family… I hope and pray that all these memories would suffice in lieu of his eternal absence…

Carl, wherever you are, I’d like to tell you SALAMAT for everything, for gracing us with the person that you are, albeit short in earthly terms but very memorable. I love you, we love you with all our hearts. We will strive to continue what you have wished for everyone of us—for Daddy to become better, for the Kabilang Building to stay together, for Arje not to shift any course and to graduate, for Malyn to graduate, for me to get married, for AG and Bimbo not to stop smoking just yet, for Kuya to become a full-pledged engineer, for Kuya and Helen to stay a happy couple, for Gian to grow up healthy, for Mommy and Mama to be healthy all the time, for Nanie to find his true love and for Arjo to become a doctor…

For now, as your 2^nd family, we honor you today and everyday. As the song from Dakota Moon goes, “I don’t wanna say goodbye but til we meet again.. maybe another place, another time, I don’t know when.. But we’ll think of you til then, til we meet again….”

We all pray that you have found your peace. We will miss you forever, Caparl.. Cablarn, Lrac, Carl… Til then.

Photo by: Lito Inso
Article by: Arlyn Abellana

Modern Heroes

Fathers have always been the images of strength. Back to the older days, Daddy used to wipe my sweat when I had too much fun and he would always bring something for me when he gets back from work. I cry my heart out as I relate to him what happened to me during that day—well , they are really not that trivial, just some petty quarrels with my brothers (I was the princess then) but he listened as I was the only one who mattered. Then he would kiss my forehead and tell me, “I love you, dai”. Back when I was a kid, I looked up to my dad as the source of strength, that measuring stick of whom I would base my future boyfriends, and nothing could tumble him down.

However, earlier this year, my Dad had a stroke. The left side of his body was paralyzed. With this, our life turned into a 360 degree turn back. He couldn’t work. At first, his speech was muffled, he can’t raise his hand nor clench it. All his projects were put on hold, some disappeared. Our financial status was depleted because of the medicines and all the therapy. It was an emotional turmoil for my dad, my mom, me and my family. It burst out when someone said , “He will never get well. How can he be a great dad with him bedridden like that?” Harsh, but all I can say is “You just wait”.

Today, my family and I went to a beach outing to celebrate father’s day. My dad, who was bedridden 3 months ago, walked down the steep way towards our beach cottage, using his cane, beads of sweat trickling down his face. He was walking slowly but he tried his best to go to us, with a smile on his face. Today, I wiped my dad’s sweat when he sat down, breathless after his 30-meter walk, and I listened to him intently about what happened to his day, well not really the trivial ones, but hey, he’s my king for the day. And then I kissed him on the forehead and said, “I love you dad. I’m so proud of you”. And then he looked at me, took a look at all of my brothers and sister and my mom, and he hugged me and I saw a tear trickling down his face. And that’s when I knew—he is a great father, no matter how bedridden he is, no matter what others say, no matter what happens.

The tricky thing about fatherhood is that unlike any other business you’ve been into, there is no training. There’s no school that would offer B.S. Diaper Making or A.B. Teaching- your -child -how -to court –a- girl. The fact is, one can’t prepare ways on how to become a professional father. And while it is tricky, there’s no such thing as a professional father. However, for those fathers who have tried their best to extend their love, remaining strong by showing some signs of humanity in some emotional episodes (turning into mush with a hug, a smile, a text, an I love you, or walking down the aisle with his kid who’s about to get married), and for those who have seen their kids grow up to be the best they can be because of their lead, I salute all of you. I salute Tito Lito, (Lito’s dad) who, even with all his busy schedule, still has time with his family, doing all the grocery and being there for them when they need them, even if I need him. The support he has humbly and graciously given to his family is heroic and remarkable. I salute my wab, who has been a good father to our kids (you know who they are…). And of course, I salute my Dad… who has shown me how love is so immense it can be felt whatever the situation.

We all have our heroes because we base how we fight our battles by how they handled it. And yes, in my life, I have three great heroes. No degree in fatherhood? Doesn’t matter, they excel in greatness and heroism. And that’s all that matters.

Happy Fathers’ Day to all the fathers.

Photos by: Lito inso, proud son of Atty. Manuelito S. Inso

Article by: Arlyn Abellana, proud daughter of Engr. Arsenio A. Abellana

June 10, 2007, 9:22pm

Simple Joys

Today, I feel humbled.. Humbled because I have met a very wonderful person who has shown me that life is beautiful no matter how simply you live..

Just about yesterday, I was incessantly whining about the fact that when I went to our kitchen, I did not find the usual stock of coffee that I drink every afternoon. I opened our refrigerator and I cannot find anything decent enough to munch. I went to my office and mumbled about the incessant ring of the phone, customers calling me non-stop. I don't have time for gym, I don't have that much time to enjoy to the fullest my hobby. I don't have time for vacation. And that brought a frown on my face. I found it hard to smile. And I thought, God! Give me a break! I am only 23 years old and this is what the world has given me!I am so tired!"

And God did give me a break. Last Sunday, I was off to a photography stroll by myself and I found Manang Condrada. She was sitting in a shade near the church and she was staring at me. So, i went over and talked to her a bit. She told me that it's very hot but she's happy because she sold 50 newspapers already for the day. With that amount, she can go home to her husband and kids with money to buy for dinner together with her family. Sunday, being the most profitable day for her, she said she's glad she can meet lots of people on days like this. Opon is her market as there are lesser competitors thus she can have more sales. Sun-Star Daily is sure lucky to have her as she is selling their newspapers way back when it costed P3.00 and now it's P15.00. Living somewhere in downtown Cebu City, she looks forward to going home everyday to be with her family. While we were talking, I noticed that she is always smiling and she believes that she's the "bearer of news", more of like an angel. I asked her if she ever gets tired of what she's doing.. And she said that she has kids who love her, a husband who is there for her, food everyday, a shelter to go home to and a workplace near her Creator.. "dong, I'm 64 years old and this is what the world has offered me... I'll never get tired!"

Thus the story of why I was struck with utmost embarassment and humility. I went home, looked at my home with different eyes--> with or without coffee and something to munch.. I remembered my family and my girlfriend and how supportive they are of me.. I welcomed the incessant calls with so much glee--> yes! i have a business and love all around me and I feel so blessed. I left Manang Condrada with a promise that I'll visit her again some time... However, I did not fail to capture and bring her soul to me through this picture. Thank you Manang Condrada.

Photo by: Lito C. Inso
Article by: Arlyn R. Abellana