Is it real or is it fabric?

I'm an anxious man who worries about a lot of things. So, the last thing I need is a high-maintenance houseplant. Every botanical enthusiast, even a reluctant one like me, has their holy grail, and right now, my current fascination is the Euphorbia obesa.

When you first see this thing, you'll think it's fake. It's a perfectly plump, seamed sphere that looks entirely sculpted and belongs in a museum. This rare succulent, sometimes called the "baseball plant," hails from South Africa. It is wonderfully low-maintenance and can happily go months, perhaps even years, without a drop of water.

It's a perfect organism, really. It doesn't need constant affirmation, it doesn't bark at 2 a.m., and it doesn't require a subscription. I want the Euphorbia obesa to be my new housemate, and if I get one, I think the relationship might actually last. Assuming, of course, that I don't overwater it or accidentally knock it over during a panic attack.

Comments

Midday Muse

Yesterday, just across the street from a coffee shop near the town square, someone caught my attention. A girl, no more than sixteen, though perhaps younger, appeared on the sidewalk with her dog. She wore a beautiful sundress, the kind that sways gently in the late afternoon breeze. She was striking — mixed race, maybe a European father and a Filipina mother — and there was something about her aura, the way she moved, that reminded me of a ballerina from a Degas painting. For a moment, I couldn’t quite place what it was that drew my gaze. I’m forty-six, married, a father of two. It’s been years since the sight of a stranger has stopped me mid-step. But there she was, and I felt a quick, disorienting pull — not love, not even lust in the conventional sense, but something more confusing. She walked into a nearby pizzeria, her dog trotting obediently beside her. I followed — not out of any conscious decision, but more out of curiosity, the kind that makes us read the ending of a story ev...

The Endurance Artist

I recently stumbled upon the work of Margritt Martinet , whose drawings are giving my brain a delightful yet exhausting workout. This French artist, you see, deals in the glorious, mind-bending borderland between the organic and the futuristic. She doesn't just create art; she crafts entire visual universes that are so immersive and dynamic you feel like you should be wearing a spacesuit just to look at them. My mind simply cannot wrap itself around the sheer volume of focused physical labor that goes into these things. The pieces are intricate, layered, and incredibly consistent. But what truly inspires—and simultaneously mocks—me is her patience. This, my friends, is the real superpower. I once attempted a similar large-scale, intricate project. It started so well: my early lines were sharp, and my geometric shapes were perfect. Then, slowly but surely, as the hours stretched and the cramping started in my wrist, the inevitable descent began. The sharp lines became... a little mo...

Finding Peace at Galleria Nicolas

The current art pieces on display at Galleria Nicolas in Alabang Town Center are incredibly calming. The moment I walked through the doors, it felt as though someone had hit the slow-motion button on my brain. An immediate, overwhelming sense of peace washed over me—not the boring, sleepy kind, but a quiet, deeply centered feeling. The artworks seemed to gently whisper, "Chill out," without being preachy. They weren't vying for attention; they were simply there, inviting one to look closer and truly take their time. The pieces themselves are simple and exceptionally classy, yet they possess an incredible depth. It's that wonderful feeling when you see something beautiful but cannot quite articulate why it affects you so powerfully. A lot of the art is what I'd call conventional—familiar themes, perhaps a little sentimental. But here's the good part: they take that conventional style and supercharge it, giving it new emotional weight. And the colors? They'...

finding cain

Search This Blog