The Argo Collection

THE

A R G O

C O L L E C T I O N

"Marion’s Rest" Lavina Verdolaga Flores, 2012 Watercolor and ink on paper 29 x 21 cm

THE

A R G O

C O L L E C T I O N Evolving from 2012, a private collection of paintings and writings grew to be what is known as the ARGO Collection for the digital archive of the LUNAR CODEX. Featured in all three time capsules of the LUNAR CODEX: Peregrine, Nova C, and Polaris Collection set to land on the moon between 2022 to 2024, it reflects a beginner's foray into art collecting while its prose and poetry are the personal insights on life, love, regret, and death written by former Art Director and travel and leisure writer, Romana K. Go. The ARGO collection allows its viewers a teaser into the majestic range of Philippine Contemporary Art leaving one hungry for self immersion and exploration. The collection prides itself in having a combination of pieces by the most sought artist as well as young up-and-coming ones from all over the country. The collection seeks to encourage the development of one's personal taste as one samples paintings through varying levels of creative artistic mastery.

A JOURNEY TO SELF I saw the dawn break with mischief, He stretched languidly and licked his paw.

“Come with me, little one. and whatever happens, never withdraw.

Away from all you know, It's time for us to seek Through the mist, and the grasslands, untrodden paths suspiciously oblique.”

I stared out into the distant light, Unsure of myself, bashfully afraid Consumed by fear, wallowing in doubt Molded by a painful past once betrayed.

“Seek your strength out.

Discover the world around.

Conjure me within you To gain back a spirit destined to be found.

"Mirror Image" Mark Jeffrey Santos, 2022 Acrylic on canvas 152x 122 cm From the Galerie Stephanie Collection

Walk in this world again As you hold your head up high Remember you are all things Although once lost, will never be denied.

Walk together with me In your mind, in your heart Let me whisper to you a dark promise That even Death won't keep us apart.

And so it began.

With one step, and then another.

Wonderous unbridled abandon Life’s journey to be discovered.

"Doppleganger" Mark Jeffrey Santos, 2022 Acrylic on canvas 92 x 122 cm From the Galerie Stephanie Collection

"Oracle" Rovi Jesher Salegumba, 2012 Acrylic on canvas 90 X 90 cm

THE ORACLE When you sit still you sense it.

A foreboding sensation of things to come.

A birthing of potentiality.

It makes the tips of your hair stand on their ends.

It makes your stomach tingle.

In your breast, a thunderous beating.

You smile as you exhale.

Your toes are flat on the floor sensing the earth's vibrations.

The sound of your own heart explodes in your ears.

It is so close you can taste it.

Your eyes roll back deep into their sockets.

You swallow but it makes your throat drier.

Anticipation screams in your head like a streaking freight train.

Your cheeks in red flush.

Enveloped by the deafening silence in the air., you are surrounded by nothing.

And yet you feel it.

Slowly.

Audaciously.

You know.

It is coming.

"Love Encompasses" Ramon Orlina, 2014 Carved Lavender Crystal 22 X 23 x 9 cm

QUEL As I write my fingers flutter, trying to capture the thoughts that too speedily express themselves in form.

I close my eyes and I pour what is in my heart, what is in my thoughts, onto an electronic screen.

I do not want to be immortalized.

I do not want to be read.

I merely want to express.

So many things inside me, clawing its way out.

So much emotion.

A whirling bedlam.

My words flitter around in my mind.

In the chaos, there sits the quiet thought of you.

Shining like a lighthouse on troubled shores.

As the monstrous waves crash against massive rocks.

You are my solace.

My safe place.

You are my anchor.

I breathe shallow breaths wanting, waiting to survive.

To become one with the source that unites us.

It is quiet now for you are with me, even if only in thought.

My fingers slide off the keyboard like lead weights.

Exhausted. Dead.

There is no more point in writing.

Even with my eyes closed, exhausted.

I know that you are here.

Untitled Valerie Chua, 2012 Watercolor on paper 24 x 19 cm

"Tristan and Isolde" Gromyko Semper, 2016 Acrylic and ink on canvas 152 x 92 cm

4

TOUCH

Tactile and electric, a touch can be.

This feeling can engulf you as you drown in a sea.

A smile forms on your lips as your whole body tingles.

Tonight, dining as a pair, formally single.

You flirt, your sensations are peaked and they soar And you wonder to yourself if you are audacious enough to want even more.

At the small of your back, a hand lingers.

It trails up your spine, traipsing lightly, his fingers.

SOUL MATE

I love you for all the ways you make me feel. from the depths of my soul, to resound itself in the chambers of eternity.

I have been with you in past lives, and I am reborn with you, here and now.

Today, I feel you in my life.

All glorious.

All passion exhilarates in the joy.

That is the true meaning of existence.

You are my heart, my being.

I relish the joy of you.

How wonderful it is to feel your kiss eternal.

A sensation I knew even before I have met you.

This is a mere reacquaintance.

Each day I have spent apart from you is a waste of time and space.

A meaningless void.

A blackness of doubt.

I have wallowed in oblivion for so long.

To be with you now is beyond what words can explain.

It transcends happiness.

It is an elevation of two souls who have found each other again to be locked in an everlasting embrace.

I thank you for coming to my life.

The promise of you.

The fulfillment that is you.

Of us.

You are the reason I've blossomed.

Like a drunken splendor, we revel in burgundy wine.

With your touch, time stands still.

In unison, we breathe.

In your arms, I spend a lifetime.

"Beautiful Shoreline of Copenhagen" Maunuel Baldemor, 2011 Acrylic on canvas 76 x 101 cm

REFLECTION On a stary night, I looked up as I sighed deeply in your arms.

I didn’t know it then but I was falling for you too.

It was natural, effortless, and easy.

There was no superficial tinge, no resistance, but simply a voluntary surrender.

I breathed as you breathed, and that rhythm was all that I needed to know that this was real.

On nights when I look into your eyes, I forget everything else that surrounds me.

The music, the people, my fears, my doubts all fade like a distant dream as I find myself awake for the first time.

I discover courage within myself.

When I am with you I am strong.

This is something so unexpected for me.

As I write, tears roll down my cheeks.

Neither of sadness nor of joy, but this pure intrinsic feeling inside me bursts out of my soul escaping any need to be defined.

I have no yearning to see what path this will take, I have no prayers addressed to heaven because in my heart I know, and that is this moment with you is all that I will ever I need.

This is the first time I have felt this way while not really understanding why.

I have no desire to dissect this rapture into infinitesimal nuances that will beget me sleepless nights.

I love you too, and that is all I know.

I dance in the thought of you.

Naked and lost in my own forest.

Not of togetherness nor of splendid unions, but of coming finally back home, to where I am supposed to be.

In a universe of pure bliss, I send my thoughts of love to you knowing that you feel the way same too.

"Gyr Falcon" Almaz Kudaibergenov, 2016 Oil on canvas 68 x 58 cm

FLIGHT OF RAPTURE I love you…

Beyond all that I understand, and all that I am.

I love you in a manner that transcends all of time and consciousness.

The depths of my emotion seek not to manifest themselves in wants and needs.

It is void of all desire, all yearning.

There is just… this.

A knowing….

A surety amidst the silence that finds itself trapped in a chaotic world.

You are my salvation, my joy.

I love you so much that I can let you go if you asked me to.

And yet, I know you will always come to me, for it is as it should be, even before time existed.

This is a love so complete that words fail to describe this euphoria I have never felt it before, yet I knew could exist.

Into you, I merge my soul, finally.

It is an underlying comfort that nestles itself warmly in my bosom.

A thousand brilliant spectacles of lights that swirl through me entwine themselves to you effortlessly.

You are my being as I am yours.

There is nothing else left to experience.

In knowing you I am at my happiest.

I am fulfilled.

In your arms, I withstand all the elements.

There is no fear, no shame, no doubt.

You have humbled me.

You are the miracle I was born to experience.

You are the blessing that is my life.

"Flower Vendor" Malang Santos, 2006 Acrylic on paper 21 x 21 cm

SPRING

I knew you once I think, from a long time ago.

Nothing earth-shattering really, something subtle, something easy.

There have been others for both of us, but they fall pale and hallow now compared to what is and will be.

A knowing, a connection inexplicable yet not difficult to see.

As rhythmic and eventual coming together to sustain a new life.

A shared moment, when hands touch, puts hearts in ecstatic delight.

Looking through your eyes, I feel at ease and complete.

I soar, I fly, I jump even if I am still on my feet I live each light in meditation of you, each waking moment in your arms is a rhapsody.

Spring realizes itself in the fullness of its bloom.

LOVE I am smiling again.

It crept up on me.

It’s been a while.

It’s like sunshine cracking through spaces in between the cloud till it floods up the sky with a burst of yellow.

It’s catching a scent of sweet blossoms as it offers its salutations to the world.

You turned on the light inside me, a light I never knew was there.

The stasis ended.

The cracked bones were covered in sinews of muscles ready to spring.

I am happy.

For all and for no reason.

I sway like the leaves set adrift below a high soaring kite.

You are the tickle in my spirit.

You are a perfume I breathe.

The inspiration of a lifetime released from a dream.

Because of you I embrace all that I am and move beyond it.

Water filters through the drought and life starts anew.

Gratitude soars into the heavens like birds.

I wasted so much time chasing after shadows that I almost stepped into a void.

I am in tune with you.

For I am alive once again.

"Portrait of a Girl" Dan Macapugay, 2017 Watercolor on paper 40 x 30 cm

"Salambao" Michael Cacnio, 2015 Brass 43 x 112 x 36 cm

10

KITE When I was young, I thought I was the only one who mattered.

Throughout my life, my relatives, to me, often gathered.

Best of all, my favorite treat Is when Grandpa would come and he would tickle my feet.

I would laugh as we played silly games, Guessing how many this and that were, and making up funny little names.

I know that his favorite was I, Because he would often carry me in his arms, and we’d pretend I could fly.

Grandpa would give me candies when my mom wasn’t looking, And he would make silly faces at my grandmother’s cooking.

On sunny days, we would sit by the park, And he would carry me on his shoulders if there were dogs that barked.

Then one day, I heard some very bad and sad news.

My father took me to a place where many people wore whites and blues.

“This is the hospital,” my father said. “ This is where sick people go.”

He looked at me quietly, not saying what I should already know.

When my father opened the door, I was surprised to see a needle on my grandfather’s arm, even if he looked as fit as a fiddle.

“Well hello there, young lady!” my grandfather exclaimed.

“Thank you for the lovely visit!

You shouldn’t worry about that pink bottle,” he added, “There’s some strawberry in it!”

I laughed and jumped onto his big, hospital bed.

I asked, “Why are you laying down, Grandpa?

And not up and about instead?”

“Oh its just a little something the doctors are trying to fix!

I will be back on my feet soon. I will be home in just a few clicks!”

So with a big hug and a smile, off to home I went.

And every day, flowers and cards to my grandfather in the hospital, I always sent.

Then, on a cloudy day, my father sat me down.

His face was filled with sadness, and he was gulping for air as if he was going to drown.

In a whisper, my father said, “Grandpa is gone now.

Today he passed away.”

I tilted my head, knotted my brows, and wondered why he couldn’t stay.

“Where did he go?” amazed as I asked.

And I wondered silently what test it was that he passed?

“No dear, Grandpa has gone, and he is never coming back.”

My father looked at my puzzled face and saw the understanding I lacked.

“Well,” I said, “ if he has gone somewhere, then I would like to follow!

He is my grandpa and I will go to him, even if the road is long and narrow.”

My father said, “Grandpa is in heaven now; he is in a world without any pain.”

I opened my mouth as my father patted my head, knowing I was about to complain.

“Why did he go?” I asked.

“Didn’t he like my cards? Didn’t he find them funny?”

“Yes he did, dear,” my father smiled and said, “and now he is reading them someplace always bright and sunny.”

“Every time you think of Grandpa, know that he is in heaven wearing a smile.

I know you will miss him tremendously, and that perhaps will last for a while.”

I was confused, I felt alone, and I didn’t understand even my own thoughts.

When I finally realized that Grandpa was gone, I was very very distraught.

“How can I find him, and talk to him in heaven?”

This I asked, wide-eyed, with the innocence of a child of seven.

“Of course,” my father said, “your thoughts you can write On a piece of paper, and we will make a kite take flight.”

And with my father’s help, I wrote down a very long letter, With drawings and jokes, and wishes for my grandfather to feel better.

Two. Three. Four pages, I wrote with my small pen Tied to a ribbon of a kite, to heaven my letters I did send.

With tears in my eyes, my father and I cut the kite’s strings, Hoping that some way, somehow, the wind would give it wings.

UNFORGOTTEN

Today the birds chirped And a lollipop got stuck on a child's hair.

Today a cobbler found a lucky penny Inside an old shoe, he just repaired.

Just now the dogs barked In the middle of the night.

Just now a bat flew low and fast as it clicked and turned a sharp right.

Amidst the normalcy of life I sit here and I wait Not knowing where you are Taking chances, tempting fate.

In the rhythm of things where balance topples over My fears ebb and flow sinking to new depths now even lower.

Our carefree moment is over and our laughter now subsides.

Such is the quiet stillness when the one you love, just dies.

Living in this moment forever, your brilliant smile dazzles in flight.

Loving you at this moment forever, though now no longer in my sight.

"Mother and Child" Michael Cacnio, 2014 Brass 21 x 91 x 18 cm

"Mother and Child" Ben Cabrera, 2015 Acrylic on Paper 43 x 112 x 36 cm

UNBROKEN If I could cradle you in your woe, I will whisper to your strength that you have set aside: the challenges, you have surmounted, the travails you've conquered far and wide.

If I could pull you out of your misery, drag you away from the depths of your despair, I will shout from the top of the mountains and let your name soar high above the air.

You have been beaten till you could no longer catch your breath.

You have torn asunder all that mattered to you and fiddled with the dance of death.

If I held you in my arms, and brushed your tears aside You will never find your courage, and in the darkness of sorrow, continue to hide.

So I must leave you be no matter how it pains me as it tears my heart Inexplicable loneliness and torturous dread so heavy it breaks everything you know and love apart.

I cannot help you, my love.

For to do so will mean that your soul would die.

You will forget what you are.

And your dreams replaced with dark and dismal lies.

You must do this on your own again.

Rise up despite the pain and your own doubt.

Though your bones crack, with your heart torn and blistered, bleeding, all thrashed about.

You must find your strength alone as you have once had before.

Dry your eyes now child.

Though difficult, shine bright forevermore.

"Mother and Child" Tish Alcantara, 2018 Watercolor, gouache and acrylic on paper 43 x 78 cm

14

"The Red Fighter" Ronnie Lim, 2017 Oil on canvas 116 x 60 cm

THE CURSE

In the darkness where sanity surrenders willingly tired, dismayed, overwhelmed It waits, hungry, disheveled Abandoned for too long, Sinews now frail gossamers of pale past failures.

Despite being forgotten all these years it waits alone Of laughers without mirth Of wrinkles deep wounds of time The bitterness of life envelops the spirit It clouds everything and blinds all hope Gasping for air, hand clentched bone white It screams its last fight against the oblivion of regret.

Punched too many times Broken into too many pieces The sweet dream of death sweeps gently in because the pain of what was lost is swirl of drunken agony.

Caged in one's own thoughts Without even an attempt to escape The curse was the acceptance of it all.

And abandonment of what could be.

"Chinese Rice Eye Grain Dish and Green Enamel Dragon Dish of Kang Xi Period" Alfred Galura, 2017 Watercolor on paper 29 x 21 cm

LAST MOMENTS

In my last moments, a wee smile will form on my lips. It is finally here, what I have waited all my life for, the time I dreaded, I feared, I stood in awe of.

The moment I yearned for during those dark days, which now look petty and minuscule.

In these last embers, I say hello to death as it reaches down to kiss my cheek.

In my last moments, all the sounds around me will not matter.

The annoying little beats and beeps, the scuffling of plastic clog shoes on white linoleum floors which have been sterilized and scrubbed so much that the maintenance woman has exposed herself unknowingly to carcinogens in the hopes of keeping other people alive a little bit longer.

In my last moments, a flood reaches my senses but I lay undaunted by the manageable chaos that surrounds me.

In my last moments, I feel my speech slow and I hear my heart in my ears. I think of my loved ones and wonder if they are now thinking of me.

Whatever they say now, whatever recompense or penance, it does not matter.

"Afternoon Flowers" Jun Tiongco,, 2020 Watercolor on paper 29 x 21 cm

All the money that has flown out, all the money in the bank, all the money that was argued about are as useless to me as the last few drops of dextrose inside the bottle hanging beside me. Props for the fool. Props for the weary.

In my last moments. I will have only one thought. It will not be of nor for my maker, it will not be of nor for my faith. It will be only of you. My one true love, my one true regret that time was too short.

My vision blurs, and cognition slips in and out like frayed weavings on a loom. In my last moments thinking of you I smile, because for you I have lived, and through you, I will live on despite my memory and consciousness.

I am slipping now into the void. It is as sultry and as inviting as a warm blanket on a cold wet night. It calls me from your embrace now. I depart voluntarily because I know I can no longer stay with you.

You are my love, my all, and in the last moments of my life, all I need is to touch your hand, smile in deep gratitude, and sleep.

"Harvest" Jay Pee Portez, 2013 Acrylic on canvas 120 x 120 cm

9

8

"Happy Buddha" Norman, 2013 Acrylic on canvas 112 x 112 cm

HAD I...

Had I told you what I felt, That my heart sang at the heights of which eagles soared to ride the thermal winds Had I told you that each word from you become tangible lyrics that I devoured into my being Had I told you that I lose myself willingly into the vortex that is your grace and wisdom Would you have stayed for a little while longer?

Had I told you that my heart beats as the hummingbird flutters its wings as it sips sweet nectar in the morning, That each fabric felt astounds the touch of my skin as I think of the memory of you, Would you have turned your head and paused in my direction for one last time?

Had I told you that I should have loved you in the way aromatic scents yield themselves willingly in a garden of roses That the way the wind moves my hair onto my face reminds me of your caress when I was a child, Would you have held my hand before you slept?

In the hail of torment and pain, my being collapses itself against the hard wall, exhausted.

Only the thoughts of your eyes bring me to life like the brilliance of the sun.

I never felt that I was lost until I knew my need for you now.

Under a blanket of stars, I lay wailing and empty.

Had I told you I loved you then...

Would you have staved off Death at your doorstep so He would have allowed you to say goodbye to me one last time?