Art. Rock. Existence.

If by some weird twist of fate I could become like James Joyce’s Leopold Bloom and live out one transcendent day just doing as I please, I’d probably go out and buy something, listen to a musical performance or, in more lucid moments, go look at works of art. You could just imagine that day slendering into eternity. Jai guru deva Om. 

Let’s see. I would probably go to Tower or Music One and buy myself a bunch of CDs. Maybe that coveted Allman Brothers box set (featuring Duane’s slide guitar from the gods) or that pathologically loud CD by Pat Metheny and Ornette Coleman, “Song X.” My mother couldn’t stand the vinyl when I played it one day.

I’d maybe buy Alan Moore’s Watchmen graphic novel at Fully Booked or Bibliarch because my old copy became — drat! — termite snack. Or finally purchase the Hellboy or Spawn titles I’ve been dying to get my hands on. When I was in high school I’d borrow copies from my classmates because those Dark Horse comics are quite expensive, biting chunks off my allowance. They came up with the most elaborate excuse not to lend me their Spawn Armageddon collection. Time to finally exact my sweet revenge.

I’d even eye those cold-cast statues of characters in Hobbes & Landes, Toytown, and Maxiworks — like that of Venom, Malebolgia, Giger’s Alien, or Clive Barker’s Tortured Souls. My dream is to have a house full of Face-Huggers and Queen Mothers from those Sigourney Weaver sci-fi movies. Beats having a house full of Celadon jars. 

Since looking at art books gives me that Zen-like peace, I’ll go to Powerbooks or A Different Bookstore and check out those voluminous Damien Hirst books detailing his pickling of sheep and cattle, and naming a diamond-encrusted skull as “The Death of God.” If I wanted some local color I could head for the nearest museum and see the diaphanous works of Romulo Olazo, the mind-altering sculptures of Gabby Barredo, the groundbreaking syringe paintings of Fernando Zobel. Art can nudge us into realizing there’s more to life than deadlines, presentations, meetings and incessant trips to the Bundy clock. The soul needs pampering from time to time. 

These are the things that make life on our neck of the planet so exciting: artworks, CDs, guitars, comics and collectibles.

What’s great about this is that I could do my Joycean odyssey in one group of malls, the Ayala Malls. There are endless activities that a geek like me could engage in — whether it’s acquiring the latest CD featuring the alchemy of Brian Eno, or just going to guitar shops and tinkering with stomp boxes. I’ll probably check out the “Crossroads” guitar festival at TriNoma. And maybe head over to RJ Music City at Glorietta or JB Music and Perfect Pitch at Park Square this weekend and get some chorus or tremolo gadget to mask my dreadful, dreadful guitar playing. M-Audio equipment is also available at JB and, of course, at the Mac store (the one in Greenbelt is quite impressive). Using an M-Audio interface, I can plug my trusty Stratocaster into my Mac and noodle away. Maybe work on my “Symphony of the Damned,” something I’ll never finish. The convenience of it all: I could go from one shop to another at, say, Glorietta or TriNoma, and give in to one of my obsessions.

When my girlfriend and I go to Greenbelt, currently my favorite mall, we always head for Sketchbooks to buy gesso and Amsterdam oil paints, go to Music One for DVDs on sale (like repackaged Kubrick classics), and maybe on special days (during the Jewelmer jazz fest) watch Radioactive Sago or Johnny Alegre play their intricately-arranged tunes at the Greenbelt fountain area. Illuminated by moonlight and languid lamplight. Life is good.

At Serendra and Bonifacio High Street, we punctuate our days with caffeine, a mouthful of cake and an eyeful of the sculptures installed at the Boni High grounds — Reg Yuson and Ronald Achacoso’s “Bearable Lightness” is one of my favorites. Wealso go to Serendra’s upstairs galleriessuch as 1/Of to see what contemporary artists are preoccupied with.  

I love walking the lengths of Bonifacio High Street, which somehow reminds me of the cluster of high-end malls in Sydney and Third Street Promenade in Santa Monica, California (where I hung out one morning the day I watched the Eagles at Nokia Theater in Downtown LA). And just like the row of malls in Santa Monica, Boni High allows you to soak in some sunshine, flex those legs, while checking out the latest issues of Q and Juxtapoz, or JamPack software for your MacBook, and be in the presence of intriguing and awe-inspiring artworks — such as those recently mounted by Louie Cordero at Mo_Space. Window-shopping and art-gazing both in the same mix? Buying items that could enhance the living room, and at the same time enhance one’s sense of aesthetics? Yup, this place allows mallers to develop “passionate minds.” 

After all, malling is far from mundane when it comes to Ayala Malls. Each of them — Greenbelt, Glorietta, Alabang Town Center, Ayala Center Cebu, Market! Market!, TriNoma, Serendra, Bonifacio High Street — offers something unique for the rich and not-so rich. I dig bargains. There is a secondhand magazine store in Glorietta that is a treasure trove of back issues of ArtNews and Modern Painters, and a store in the same mall boasting inexpensive band shirts from Bangkok festooned with logos and album-cover designs by Sonic Youth, Alice Cooper and The Clash. Think of all those shops and stalls at Market! Market! with CDs, toys, arts & crafts materials, and other great finds at great bargains. The search is the sweetest part of it all.

I have to disagree with those who equate malling with meaningless wandering. Depends on the person, depends on the mall. Where else can a person go from accompanying one’s girlfriend gazing at Marc Jacobs creations, to walking a few steps to see the creations of Filipino masters — from Amorsolo to Bencab to Romulo Olazo — at the Ayala Museum designed not unlike those modern museum marvels such as Tate Modern in London? The Ayala Museum is a storehouse in steel and glass that contains paintings, sculptures, artifacts and much, much knowledge about Philippine art and history within its structure. The great thing is, all these are accessible to everyday people just like us. Art appreciation is free, anyway. Paintings and sculptures — to disagree with British graffiti artist Banksy — are not just for the trophy cases of the elite. Art, to quote comedian Jimmy Santos, is “for every all.” Dig that?

So, just think of all the things you can experience at Ayala Malls. It’s not unlike going to Joyce’s Dublin and accumulating a stream of new experiences. New purchases for the house, new epiphanies for the soul. Wouldn’t we all want that?

As Molly Bloom muses at the end of Ulysses, “…and yes I said yes.”