“Not everything is supposed to become something beautiful and long-lasting. Sometimes people come into your life to show you what is right and what is wrong, to show you who you can be, to teach you to love yourself, to make you feel better for a little while, or to just be someone to walk with at night and spill your life to. Not everyone is going to stay forever, and we still have to keep on going and thank them for what they’ve given us.”

 -- Emery Allen

Lapse

At one point along the Glen Waverley line, the train comes to a silent glide. Engine seemingly off - but really just a cessation of acceleration. As the train glides, there, utmost silence. A lapse in the constant mechanical rhythm. 

I'll never forget the day in Year 9 when we rehearsed a play - and myself, uttering a sentence regarding death, and finding myself finishing to an utterly silent carriage full of peak time commuters. I forget the play, I forget the sentence, but the feeling and memory forever lingers. Called upon again and again whenever the situation is reincarnated.

Conjunction

Venus and Jupiter, how brightly you shine.

Onion

Excuse the hiatus. A quick one.

會發現，很多人都有一樣這麼愛過一個人。

Unconditional.

So it's been fourty-nine days.

It still doesn't feel any different, as though you're still here by our side. 

In the fashion of the family, you have instilled a great sense of honour, adventure and most importantly - love - within us all. 

Love - which has hardly needed to be spoken, because we all know deep down how much you loved us. Love - which we all kept by our sides, so we knew you were always with us. Love - which has brought us to where we are today, and keeps driving us forth, from hence and forever more.

Similarly, Mum pours unconditional love into us so we know she'll always be by our sides. 

We can totter along in the great outdoors, down roads less travelled, stick our hands into frying pans, retreat in pain, nursing our wounds, but full of bravery to keep going. We are no delicate greenhouse plants, but tough little weeds that survive whatever conditions are thrown at them. We undauntingly explore, cautiously proceed, fearlessly learn and wholeheartedly love.

All the while with a concrete mind and overflowing heart, comforted by the fact that there's always a place to return, always someone there for us. 

Always will be, so even if our dear and loved ones aren't by our sides, we know deep down: They are there. Always. No matter how far we go, there's always a place to call home.

So we have the quiet confidence to keep going, thriving and blossoming.

有一個地方　有暖暖的愛

讓想哭的人兒能夠哭個痛快

可以撒嬌　可以依賴

在父母眼中　每個人都是小孩

 

就算全世界的窗　全關了起來

家這一扇門　依舊會永遠打開

就算全世界的雨　全下了起來

家這一把傘　隨時為我們敞開

What you leave behind is the people you loved. You leave yourself in them. The important people in our lives leave imprints. They may stay or go in the physical realm, but they're always there in your heart, because they helped form your heart. There's no need to say goodbye.

100%

Words cannot describe how much I agree with this.

"What represents your greatest trust in a person?"

"Not bringing your brain out when you're out and about with them."

This is so complete and utterly true of myself when I'm with my family and best friends.

How do you see the world?

"Maybe some feelings are, and always will be, beyond words." 

I loved the cinematography.
Komorebi, so stunningly captured.

It's so true.
Some feelings and words aren't meant to be captured into a combination of strokes.

Sunsets

Tis the year of sunsets.

Whether it's because Ballarat is higher geographically, or because there is a lack of tall buildings.

The sunsets here are stunning.

NB: Big Hero Six loveeeeee.

As I wait to board

Alarm at 5.20am. Accidentally turned it off. 5.52am - suddenly awake. 6.01am - ready to go. Doorbell rings. Arrive downstairs. Bundle into the car. Then I see it again.

I know it's just the smog, but the sun rose today as an orange orb, it got obscured by a mountain - invisible only because of the dense smog, only peek out between at times to rise again. The sun rises very quickly, a moment we all wait for with breaths held, over in a few seconds. Today, the sun was as round and as orange as the moon the day I arrived. 

It's been a week - a life-changing week. Only one week, so hard to believe. Your world can turn upside down in a second. In the moment you receive a phone call, consecutively from your family. The moments we spent in silent racking sobs in an emergency exit because there's nowhere else to hide and grieve in the middle of the city. The moments we spend waiting for our flight. The moment of silence when we receive the news.

It will take a long time to recover from this. There will be doubts and the 'what ifs' will come out to play again. What if I decided to do this, instead of that. What if. But from my perspective, it was the best way - to see grandpa more comfortable. I know something no one else knows clearly - that at stage IV terminal HCC with multiple hepatomas, one exceeding ten cm in size. Prognosis is not good. Life expectancy is 3-6 months. It's automatically palliative care. What none of us anticipated was how we could receive news on the 7th of February, confirmed 11th of February. And one month later, losing him. Saturday, 7th of March 2015, 7.43pm. Bidding him goodbye, 14th March 2015. There was never going to be a cure, but we prayed to everything we could for less pain and suffering, more time. Time we didn't end up getting - but looking at the whole process, it was done to the best of abilities and there would be no better way to do it.

This week of grief, loss, family love and cultural reawakenings - respect, how to greet a guest in context of a passing, learning procession of a funeral.

Where do I start?

First, it went spectacularly. Taking sadness and loss out of context, everything went well and it could not have been a better send off.

Next - the process.

Arrival, 24 hours later - and we immediately headed to 義永寺. We've all seen it before - the funeral table in movies, but when it's your own beloved grandfather, father in the photo, it is indescribable. Hearing your own father say the words that not being there was the greatest regret in his life, is on an entirely different level. We tend to forget that a person doesn't have just one relationship, they have one with everyone they've known, and the human nature of putting ones own pain beyond all, I can't help it, but stepping back - grandpa has lived such a worthy life. The number of people who came to pay their respects throughout the week, who came to the public ceremony on Saturday. That's the respect he deserves utmost, and something I really so wish Carly was there to see.

We didn't see grandpa when he left, so as tradition, all 晚輩 crawl in. He was waiting for us with a half smile on his face. If this happened before anatomy dissection classes, I'm not sure how I would've taken it, because a cadaver in the same room would have reminded me of him.

We then processed to light incense - two. One for the Buddhas and another for grandpa. And for the rest of the week we stayed with him, lit incense for those who came to visit, recited literature to bless him, spoke to him like we would, and he wasn't gone. He really was not. Because we believe in afterlife and reincarnation, that the body is a physical thing, the soul lives on even after the presumed death of the physical body. Even now, maybe he's watching us from afar, somewhere.

The ritual of a funeral is also comforting in a way. It comforts you that you're not just doing nothing for him, that at least yes, we can still do something and be glad he's no longer suffering, crying and letting it all out, acknowledging the death, learning to cherish every moment with family and loved ones when you can. All of the things you read and agree wholeheartedly and NTS to do, but it only holds absolutely one hundred percent until something like this happens.

Traditionally, family members stay with the deceased for a week, day and night, but we this time, stood vigil for just the last night of the first week postmortem. Candles should be lit the whole time so they can find their way home and to fair body. Lights to be kept on in case they want to visit and come home. I have my thoughts from the vigil, they were the lessons I learnt from this loss.

So after we saw to that the ceremony room was fitted, the flowers well arranged, we all went home to shower and came back to camp at the altar for the night. All of us were awake again at 4.30am, out to get breakfast by 5am, 6am - the funeral company was already here, starting to get everything in order. 

Family ceremony was first - at 7.20am, we paid our respects in the absolute most proper way. I firmly to this day believe. Grandma spoke, while we kneeled, then we paid respects with 9 kowtows and 3 bows between, each symbolising something. To give our thanks and respect to grandpa in the most proper way. I couldn't be more thankful for these traditions for that reason.

Post immediate family respect, the extended family are invited up in order of how they address grandpa. Those who are older than him bow to him, while they present incense and fruit, we kneel on the floor and kowtow as thanks. Subsequent family members are all invited accordingly and if they are younger than grandpa, we don't kneel, but bow instead.

After the family ceremony, it is open to public. There is a table set up outside, where public come to present themselves. It is tradition to give white envelopes of money, etc etc. but we did not accept, so there the table stationed outside with one of aunty's younger sister and husband was for returning the envelopes people will no doubt prepare in red envelopes. The public then register their names - in these cases, the companies and organisations they're in - for grandpa was also part of many groups for golf, and his wider circle of socialisation. And the ceremonial presenter does all the speaking and inviting. Family members watch the procession and at the end bow to give thanks for their coming. 

Invitation. Lady puts red sash on most senior member. Most senior member accept incense, bows. Incense presented, then repeat with fruit. Then bow as final respect before turning to both sides - girls on left, boys on the right - to bow as respect to family too, while we bow in return in unison. Then if they know family personally, shake hands and hold hands to exchange a swift silent moment. Repeat process with everyone that comes.

Then the ceremony is over quickly. At the end of public 公祭 , coffin is brought out to the middle of the room. Family follows priest and nuns to circle coffin three times, then we follow with proper moving way: priest and nuns first chant, then second son holds the branch, oldest son holds the 神主牌/ plaque, first grandson holds the framed photograph. A black umbrella must go over the plaque whenever it is outside. Then the rest of the family follows in level after. Coffin is wheeled to 靈車, family calls out to deceased to tell them all times when we move them entirely (as above). When it is loaded and people follow on car, the rest of family who don't fit into the car all turn around and bow as thanks to the attendees. Then the funeral is officially over.

However, family continues on to the bus / follow spirit car to the mortuary where deceased is incinerated. More processions involved in every step. Free to go for a few hours until the incineration process is complete - then we return to 撿骨. Pick up bones, each person picks up three pieces and says "住新家喔" then the urn is sealed, wrapped and we head to where we want to place the urn. Only until urn is completely set up and all is the entire process over.

Not 100% well explained, but the less incredibly traditional way is such. It really has been: 一切圓滿。

Lessons from an ending.

Sitting here tonight with the whole family. 

It's quite an amazing thing for nearly all of us to be under one roof.

Whilst we've gathered at first in anguish and heartache to mourn our beloved grandpa, somehow in the course of six days, our pain has been transformed into a weirdly positive energy, now we've gathered to guard the last night of the week, to keep the lights on so he finds his way home and onwards, to celebrate our dearest grandfather's life and send him off well.

The past week has been a series of spasmic pain, cultural reawakening, remembered mannerisms, numerous family and friends visiting, gallons of tears, and at the end of it, moments that keep on taking my breath away.

Watching the bouquet of flowers grow and grow daily, overflowing to an incredible amount, learning about the traditions and formalities of writing such cards, pangs and pangs as I read card after card of well wishes from near and far. Growing to realise how well loved he was - anywhere he went. The number that have visited in the past week to pay their respects.

Listening to life lessons from the start of the century. Of a life so worthy of celebration. Of me - realising again and again what I realised so long ago, but the impact of the revelation never diminishes. How lucky I am to have the yuan fen to be born as grandpa's granddaughter. It's such an honour. Really. And something so worthy of striving for - all his virtues, values, the way he treated all who he came across, the outlook of life he had and how to live - surely, steadily, honourably, 

Having the family gather together for the first time in years. Jovial jokes, uncontrollable laughter, gentle chuckles, shared tears and understanding, remniscicing - again and again - and all the other moments between.

Yes, there will be a great deal of aftermath to slowly sift through. The pain is still there. When we have a quiet moment to ourselves, the tears still pool wordlessly. The quiet of the house we return to, the missing presence. A house feels different when the entire family is safe and sound, together under the same roof. It's different. We worry about the living, about the departed too - are they well? Where are they now? Are they watching us from above? Did they hear the words we whispered belatedly from thousands of miles away?

All these questions still remain.

But there's also been closure. Seeing his face, as though merely asleep. Observing traditions and doing all we can to ensure he is well to the best of our abilities in the afterlife.

Is this why we hold such rituals to heart?

Even if it ends up being nothing, the 'placebo effect' still works so well. Because we have been comforted to a massive extent now, at the end of this week.

Those we love never leave us - they're in our hearts all the time, they live on because we would not be who we are without them, because they live on in us.

Looking at my family now, in their various corners in this room - together, standing vigil for the last night. I feel both sad and happy.

Tonight - I'm going to focus on the positive. Looking at grandpa's smiling face, how could I not?

He is within all of us. His legacy does live on. His generosity, his compassion, his patience, his smile, his neverending love for us - we feel, even now.

音容宛在。

It came to me in a sentence.

This is the year where I've stopped talking, stopping wishing and started doing.

I've started exercising, eating healthily.

I have my goals and I will make them! 

"Nothing is impossible." And however many times my little brother has tried to contest it, I always rebut him. Just because it's not possible now doesn't mean it won't be possible in the future.

I've all this energy and drive that comes from the start of a year, freshly laundered self post-holiday, a change of environment, a change of lifestyle, moving out, being on my own, learning life skills and in the bottom of my heart, a cellar of full bottled love and well-wishes from family and friends. The last beings the most important factor for this explosional drive.

Beloved.

It can be taken in two ways - one that applauds the person bearing the name, or - in a different light - applauding those without whom the person bearing the name would cease to be. 

So in other terms, I had at one point in time thought my self to be not worthy of the name, 'Amy', which means 'beloved'. I had also secretly loved the meaning of my name because I felt the love of all those who loved me. And now, lastly, only feeling silent gratitude for my family who love me unconditionally. For without them and their love, I would not be.

Following up from that brief NTS.

It's easy to forget how loved you are when all your extended family live thousands of miles away.

But it is also simply remembered.

And maybe forgetting is part of it, so that when you are reminded, you can be filled with such warmth.

Maybe being apart helps you to grow in that way.

For all the better and worse, this clearly remains: the sweetness absence brings is worth every single tear in the end.

Quickly -

Something I realised again over my six-week holiday in Taiwan.

Beloved.

I think we all tend to forget how loved we are.

Transition to Ballarat

Okay, so this is a post long overdue.

Week 4 of MD2.
Whilst I anticipated major change in my life, I didn't quite anticipate all the other changes too.

But here's what I have so far - Photo diary of life in Ballarat.
There will be so much more to add.

But so far, I've settled in to home for the next year, life in a different town and

It's beautiful here. Akin to inner Eastern suburbs of Melbourne - full of green, leafy wide streets. The summer sun brings diamonds to Lake Wendouree and the days are long. Dusk a bashful, beautiful hue when you hang around long enough.

Beginning in Shepparton - orientation.
I learnt more life skills in two days that I can remember. Travelled over 400km in two days.

Last day lunch with the rural gang before we parted ways to begin this new year, new journey, new milestone in life.

I never really believed or 'felt' milestones until this year. Every year had passed the same way.
But something about packing your childhood possessions in boxes. Clothes in boxes. Everything boxed and on the go. Living a boxed life. Something about that just really changes how I perceived wherever, however this is going.

3 hours later after an adrenaline pumped drive - overtaking so many large vehicles and having never overtaken at such high speeds to many times in my driving career... Then drove to Ballarat after coming home to get clothes and luggage.

The country roads flying by at 110 kilometres per hour.
Joking, but full of apprehension that kangaroos and koalas might suddenly appear on the road. Deciding the logical way - what then to do. Slam on the brakes. Don't swerve, less we topple off the road and flip the car. Luckily, kangaroos mostly only come out at dusk. NTS to avoid driving at that time.

Passing unfamiliar road signs. And finally seeing, Ballarat. Next exit.

You know, there's something unbelievable about driving oneself to a new town, new city in the depths of the night. Actually moving out for the first time in my life. Underestimating how many things I'd have needed to prepare. Thanking the stars the university provided really good housing. Feeling so unsettled for ages because everything I owned was in boxes and if I've learnt one thing about myself: I love travelling, but I need a permanent place to call home. I need the comfort of knowing I can return somewhere and that all will be the same. Even if - and I note this as a selfish thought - I'm changed.

I both wish I could've taken photos to document it. And like that I couldn't. So the only way to remember is to etch it into my mind.

Seeing its glowing yellow lights in the distance. Looking at foreign roads, places, landmarks and wondering how on earth you'll learn to get used to it. Coming into the city through its centre - wide awake, loving the ambience of its night, picking up keys from the Emergency Department of the hospital. The short intake of laughter. The cold air. Sudden rush of endorphins. Realising that you're already living this so-called milestone. A few days later, again, realising that - Hey, I'm used to it. Then driving back two, three weeks later, again at night, similar conditions - and finding you've already lost that wonder.

It is such a loss. It's akin to the feeling after a really good movie - no matter its ending, whether or not I silently sobbed my heart out in the dark theatre, or whether or not I left feeling so happy and alive. That feeling of - where you feel as though you've come so far, somehow exiting that same theatre a changed person in the timespan of a few hours.

Then the post-movie feeling disappears. A slight hollow sadness - for the lack of a better word - it's going, going, gone. Disappearing slowly. Like snowflakes melting under the sun. And there's really nothing you can do to bring it back. You can't even describe that feeling. Can't induce it or re-create it in any way.

My mantra in the second year of university was: Things always change. Or, to put it in a more positive light, The only thing that's constant is change itself. I suppose this is just another change in itself.

Behold - the beauty of Ballarat. We live in the Lakes and Gardens Precinct - Alfredton, a relatively new area. Full of developing housing complexes of really, nice houses.

 First weekend home.

I forgot how it was to have abundant food to share with friends and family. 

I realised how sad it was to only buy food for two people. I bought five mushrooms, dammit. Five. Never done that before. Food was meant for sharing and in sharing, I gain so much happiness just watching people eat.

My little piece of home. I'm crazy I know - but a super warm and soft blanket as one could only purchase from Taiwan.

And yes - on 'Mexican Night' our house brought dessert, featuring ice magic.

The first time I spent a lunchtime looking at the lake. Loving how everyone smiled to me as they walked by - whether leisurely or on their next exercise mission.

It's very beautiful and serene there.
So many people to observe. And my favourite spot (thus far) is situated just across the road from my new favourite cafe (thus far, again).

Excuse the terrible quality. But this is how ducks dive for food. Hehe. 

I couldn't quite get over that. The smaller ones fully dive down and submerge themselves for a couple of seconds before appearing with their battle rewards.

Another favourite spot. It extends out quite a bit and - as the passerby informed us, is the deepest point of the lake. 8 metres. You can easily fish for trout here if you so wish. (He happened to be scouting the place for his next fishing trip with his missus).

The moment I walked into the cafe and smelt the coffee I knew. Everything I took in after that only but cemented my initial impression. This place served good coffee, and most likely good food and will be a valuable asset in the year to come. 

When the take away coffee cups came out - it was an immediate level up.

The interior decor, friendliness of staff, aroma of coffee, display of food and cakes - everything was to my immense liking. If ever I were to have my own cafe... I know exactly how it should be.

Another big change - I almost joined a gym. But the idea of having $40 taken out of my bank fortnightly was too much to handle. So my housemate and I settled for bike hire instead. Thirty dollars for a semester from the uni. In the time since, I've cycled at least 40 kilometres. I've also played a game of futsal. Excuse me, where did you put AW? The locals scoff for us to wait till winter - but until that time comes, I'm making the most of my cycle around the lake and around my new neighbourhood.

It's been an exciting adventure so far.

A whimsical adventure

Post-work last Saturday. It was a beautiful summer's day. And I didn't want to go home.

As I happened to pick up a Broadsheet the day before, I was taking the chance to read it while eating lunch. When I saw the words, NGV, of course no words had to be said.

二話不說，飛奔過去。

There is a lot of room to explore in art galleries. Especially people photography I think. Really wish I'd brought canon.

And I think this is what I will miss most about Melbourne. That I can do just that.

There's just enough hustle bustle. I finally understand what travel writers mean by 'vibrant city'. Because it is and after six weeks away, it's enough for me to see Melbourne again from the outsiders' perspective.

Blog under construction

I locked it up because it got too raw.

Half an hour

I wondered why they kept looking at their phones and wondered if they had an argument which is why the elderly lady moved to sit behind me. But it turned out to be nothing I thought, why did the old man get up to wait by the doors so early?

At Darling Station - everything came to light. How ept. Darling. For when their darling grandson was swapped from this parents' loving hands to the grandparents.

So unbelievably utterly endearing and lovely to watch unfold. Such a beautiful little boy and his grandparents who'd probably just finished shopping at Queen Victoria Markets.

The waterfall

When you first look at The Waterfall, it is merely water, streaming down. Just as it has for so many years. But this is the first time I've looked at it so intently - in it, I see fast moving, moderate and slower moving sections of water. Calm amongst calamity. Chaos, intermingled with incessant calm.

Better living

Whether it's because I got enough sleep, Vitamin D or generally ate enough nutritious food whilst in Taiwan...

I wake up everyday feeling well rested. Even if I didn't sleep all that long. Either because I'm waking up early and well or because I'm actually in a good state blood wise.

Could this be life as a non-anaemic?

Hahaha, but this is great.

I really want to check my bloods now.

The Fortunate

I actually think I've been the luckiest, hands down this trip.

From afternoon blue skies, thunderstorm afar, to now, my favourite kind of moon hanging in the deep black with stars as company...

I wonder if I will see the sunrise tomorrow. I won't get my hopes up. But this flight in terms of scenery has been just beyond amazing, and I'm so glad for it.

*3.29am TW time - add dawn to this. It's the exact opposite of coming home from Cairns. The moon looked the same also.

And yes, I saw the sun rise. It was so quick. As it etched its way up. Like a baby crawling.

Might I just say - this flight felt like a dream.

Spaceship flying

At first I saw only the evening star.

It disappeared while we went through some turbulence. Understandable, after all - we could've been travelling through a cloud.

But then I saw a flicker in the periphery.

Not the flicker of a plane wing at night.

And I waited. And it happened again and again and my friend, I saw a thunderstorm from above. The sky as it flashed in the distance. Thunderstorm raging down below this calm, calm veil. Underneath calm calm stars that stretch out and are so damn close. And a shooting star. If my eyes did not deceive me. It was a shooting star and I tell you, I wished for something I've always yearned for more blatantly than ever. Something I didn't even speak aloud myself inside my heart. And whether or not it was because I'm watching wish you were all here (I think) at the moment which by the way I am loving. Paused at the moment because the thunderstorm was too amazing. And this is a new year. So many weird and wonderful things happened yesterday - from this crazy occurrence of meeting a girl inside of MUJI, having her approach me at first saying: are you korean? To I really like the way you're dressed. To can we meet for coffee? Then actually meeting for the said coffee and me while talking to her, unbelievably in Chinese where I have limited higher up vocabulary to realising there are so many of her thoughts that I've had. To the freedom of having to hide nothing, talking to what was a perfect stranger about deep dark things. Having the same said thoughts uttered in exactly the same fashion all be it in Chinese, and then after that coffee, choosing to walk the way I did. Looking up at that precise moment as I turned the corner and meeting Cindy there. Laughter tumbling out. All worryless. Going to big egg and friend. Life is really made of choices. Although you don't know you're taking it. Actively, you don't think it. But those same choices lead us to such weird and wonderful things. Like me choosing to go back into MUJI after seeing the girl look at me with interest. And us ending up again at the same spot. So many things and so many choices. That create the person we are today. That make us who we are.

What will you do if you don't get into specialist? Take a year off and go to Japan. Travel for a few months in Europe. Throw all plans and maps to the wind and run run run. I'll let my steering wheel loose and let the currents take me where they may. Anywhere. I'll live with a goal, but at once aimlessly. These russet dreams as they are. As I lust for.

What has really change in me these past months? Thoughts like this go immediately and unedited on this space. No more read and reread. No more - am I being too honest here? No more - that's too private to go up. I don't know what has changed really.

Thinking back to the start of errant thoughts, when I agonised over public or private. When I chose not to write for an audience but instead for myself. That was when the private button went up and all was buried. But you know, I guess I ended up wanting not to let these thoughts fester away in the dark. That at least, here, they can exist. Not just lay waste in the deepest part of my soul. Cause these thoughts at least. Of me, me and me. I want to share. 

But you know. I can see the clouds as we travel through them at thousands of miles per hour. They leave almost as soon as we arrive. But we're the ones moving, actually. Dips and dabbles. Is this that feeling? Or meeting someone, doing something. Having it last only for s short while. But so much weight and meaning behind it. Short, significant, inspiring exchanges. I'll never be that person. There are too many flaws in me. (And my movie just got reset. How annoying.) But I'll work on it. I'll try my best. Set my goals. Not get too caught up. Not impose. Not lose my temper so easily or be so stubborn. And friend. It is so beautiful up here. 

Is this what it's like to fly in spaceship? 

To cruise up here. Watching the miles fall away. Rocketing along to the next new beginning. To a New Year. A new start, I haven't yet set my New Years resolutions. 

But it'll be something like this.

Food: Eat healthy. Learn to cook. Either learn to: ice skate, dance, yoga, go gym. Photography: 365 challenge, dig up more projects to do.

I won't ever play piano the way I want to. Itll never be as perfect as I want it to be my head. I can't replicate that. It all falls apart the minute I try. No patience.

Why don't I finish things in my head? Why must I write it all down to feel like I've filed it away? Means I accumulate too much dust and clutter in my heart.

I'm also happy all went well today and I managed to get a seat change. The window seat inspires me. People watching inspires me. I wonder how others perceive me. Want to see myself through another's eyes. There's s baby crying. 

Watching this movie and realising the importance of siblings. How easily we can talk. How we can insult and scream and fight all we want and how it will never change. I love you. I will always love you. Is the recurrent message from this trip. Fr my family and loved ones. That even if the sky falls down, we will still be here to hold it up. The kind of friendship that dog and deer had. Kate and Pippin. Which reminds me I still need to watch the hobbit. I think I'm now transcribing my thoughts as they run through my head. Fingers are not moving as fast as they can. Right. At the spot again. Almost went over the fastforwarding. Hush for now.

On top of the world

I'll meet you tonight on top of the world. 

Do you think we'll ever wake up one day to this view outside our windows? It's always been a dream of mine, to live above the clouds.

How long has it been since you saw so blue a blue?

We'll look up at night at the never ending sight. The sky as it is untainted by artificial light.

As real as it seems, you're only in my dreams.

我… 真的很幸福。

On the moment I press the shutter

Four years ago now, I wrote something on the then Hoffentlich voicing why I enjoy photography so much. It has long since been deleted, or lost in my poorly cateogorised archive of written thoughts. Since the introduction of Instagram, I felt like I gradually forgot the true meaning behind taking a photo and instead fell into a recurrent habit of thought: To take 'pretty photos', instead of a photo that tells a story of a thousand words.

Of course, 'pretty photo' is at the top of the list of 'good photo requirement', but this time round, I've been reminded of the initial 'why', encouraged to take a step back to reconsider the true significance of the existence of my dslr.

Before we press that shutter, many things run through our minds:

Who. What. When. Where. Why. How.

Aperture. Exposure. Light. Composition. Thought.

In my old photos, I could look at one and feel pangs.

Because those were the photos I took with my heart. I could look at a photo and replay the scene. Who was there. What was happening. Where it was. How this photo came about. Everything.

I can still do that with mine these days. But I get so lost in the heat of the moment, trying to note down everything, but then realising I got nothing at all. Having too many subjects. Too crowded a throught. This need to capture all that I see that is beautiful, the urge to press the shutter again and again, but then having walked away realising how little i got to see of the real thing. Ending up with way too many photos of the same thing. None outstanding. All slightly similar. This reluctance to delete one even though it looks exactly the same as the last, if not for a millimetre difference, but the perfectionist in me will try her best to pick out one, get too indecisive, then end up keeping both, run out of memory, force myself to finally delete one, two, no three. Or realising that none were good enough because none were taken with the deliberation, accuracy and heart behind the photo.

There are many types of photos - Documentary. Thoughtful. 'I was here. Yay.'

I don't condemn any. But I'm glad I've reawoken these thoughts.

Bringing back a meaning into the photo. Bringing back the moments I wanted to capture that says it all. Exploring this creative expression.

In the world of SD cards, USBs and infinite memory, many moments can be captured.

But which one will it be, to say it all again and again, in the many years to come?

On a foolish(?) pursuit of perfection

Say, I've figured out why it's so hard for me to update my blog. 

It's not the lack of thought or a lack of time.

But I think rather a stubborn pursuit of perfection in my letters and pixels.

I agonise over the exact phrasing, over how I want to represent my thoughts. Read and reread. Proofread again and again. A process that takes hours. So clearly not efficient at all.

Which leads to apparent neglect.

And because I know it will be an arduous task to come up with a competent post, I get lazy, procrastinate and end up avoiding and it leads to way too much internal mess requiring cleaning and reorganising.

So I'm going to go about this in a more reasonable fashion.

And get down all my thoughts while I can, without fear of only representing the most perfect.

But will all flaws and mistakes scattered about and within too.

And I'm thinking just maybe.

Maybe I'll export this into a my old photoblog tumblr, which might just be more manageable.

Or maybe not.

Appreciate

After I tried to take videos myself, I realised how hard it was to make even a coherent short of what I wanted to express. Which in turn made me appreciate and respect directors and filmmakers so so much more. Adding another dimension to the time I spent at Eslite this time, trawling through movies I wanted to watch and figuring out for myself certain things.

Holding a camera with a steady hand to keep it from shaking while adjusting the lens to gain the focus of you want and to express through that medium of the scene you want to note forever using your bare hands is quite an amazing thing. And you know, now that I've finally figured out how to use the recording mode of my dslr after more than a year (despicable and incompetent, I know) means I will probably use it more often. So much of what I want to capture shows on film and not as a still. But I suppose that too is a skill I would need to achieve, hey? To express it through a still. Finding my own identity and my 'eye' through my looking glass, so as to say.

That said, the gift of the 55-200mm lens is just amazing.

It renders the world into a completely different kind and has really brought about a whole new perspective on the everyday I see. I can see it now, every time I look at a scene or a photo and I can see that hey, it might have been taken with this, the thought process of the photographer.

And the recent trip up the mountains has also taught me how to appreciate binoculars. Of all things, hey? 

Adjusting to focus of the binoculars from near to far. Making it so the two visual fields overlap and it forms a perfect circle and completely widens your view of the world. It's so much fun experimenting out bush.

It reminds me of microscopes and year 11 and looking at plants in bio lab and then of me taking photos of how perfect everything looked under the microscope. I've got to find that photo again.

But for now, allow me to introduce: through the binoculars, I saw grass (蘆葦草).

Underwhelming, I know. 

But so very exciting for me.

Another year, welcome.

I always put off my yearly reflections.

Somehow, I'm afraid my brain and heart doesn't know how to process what I've learnt, doesn't appreciate from the bottom of my heart.

2014 was a year of love, loss, gain, deepened friendships, uncertainty, fresh understanding and reaching new heights.

I always think this; but each year, I push myself harder, and each year, I'm amazed by what one can achieve when they put their mind to it. Whenever I think: that's the limit, somehow, there's more and more return. 

If anything I've learnt this year is the power of small gestures and a simple, but so oft missed fact: Tell people how important they are to you.

How ironic it is that I thought I'd foolproofed everything, thought I'd had it all covered, thought I'd seen it all - but was so damn blind all the while when it came to myself. That I could be so logical, objective and coherent, but that it would all fall apart in the moment most important.

If I've learnt anything - Tell them you love them. Don't foolishly assume they know so already.

So onto 2015.

With hope in my heart, wind beneath my feet, with all the passion of what youth I've left - to a new year. I'll take my lessons to heart and embrace all that the future will hold. I'll strive to be worthy of my namesake. Come what may.