I'm amply blessed to have met so many wonderful people in my time here in Australia. I'm not sure what's in the water, but there is a big willingness in people's heart to help. It's not even only me; you can see it on the streets. People helping old women carry bags, giving a $20 note to a homeless man, opening doors for you. Kindness, I think, is much more present.
I'm pretty kind very obsessed with brush pens at the moment. I bought a SAI Japanese brush pen and I'm so in love. You know that feeling you get when you purchase something you've been wanting for a long time and whenever you look at it you fall more in love with it? I'm having that relationship with the pen at the moment. It's great. I have a relationship with a pen. It makes me want to be creative all the time and gosh have I been desert dry in being in creative lately.
I am trying to understand myself as a creative. It has been several days of excitement for art and then a whole few weeks of dry. I'm wondering whether I'm the sole artist to have been hit with this. I suppose they call it the creative block, but I don't think I'm blocked. It's more like a doubtful disease. Like, I am afraid to do because I don't think I can, so I do nothing. When was I hit with this awful sickness, I'm not sure, because I used to know, used to be more confident in my abilities, used to care less and did more. I read a quote by Sarim Seddiki the other day and it said "doubt kills more dreams than failure ever will". Right now, I'm trying to implement my don't-give-a-shit appearance more and just. make. art. I suppose.
I'm in love with brush pens. Like, it's like a brush, but wait, it's actually a pen! I've fallen and caved in to get two of my own. I'm still figuring out the mixing of the paint to get it just right which is quite a pain, but it's a nice experiment. These cards you see here were not made with my own pens however; they were my teacher's. Made a little card for Row out of hers. I'm hoping to get more into handtyping..maybe!
When Row invited me to No.35 for his belated birthday dinner, I was well ecstatic. Located on the 35th floor of luxury hotel Sofitel, No.35 the restaurant let for a beautiful dinner with a fantastic view of Melbourne city. The meal was exploding, quite literally with that statement because every bite was a burst of flavors. I ordered Roast Pork Scotch and quite honestly, I don't think I truly knew the definition of good food until that bite of it. It was the most tender meat, almost like butter. My dessert, chocolate fondant, hazelnut praline cream, sauce anglaise, was heavenly. My eyes rolled back with every bite of it; I didn't want it to end. The service was great too! We were served by the friendly Angus who made sure our experience there was the very best. The food, view, and company made for an amazing sensational night. I was extremely overjoyed.
No.35 is probably not a place I will venture to every weekend since it's on the pricier side of things, but for special occasions, I'd definitely want to go back again.
As I’m writing this, I’m
sitting on the plushy, comfortable queen size bed that is of my mother’s
hotel room. It’s been six months since I was last in the presence of my
mother and to be in it again, it’s…emotional. There
are tears buffering, ready to splash at the appearance of any opportunity, but
right now, because we’re with other people, it’s
I’m unsure with what I’m
feeling. It’s more of sadness than of joy, and it bothers me because I
want to be fully overjoyed, but yet again, I am caught in the replaying loop of
worries and thoughts of the future and not fully engulfing myself in the happiness
that is of the now.
Anyway, I have to speak a little about family and how since being
in Melbourne I have learned to appreciate it far more than ever in my life. I
suppose it requires not having something at a convenient distance, or just at
convenience in general, to fully grasp the greatness of it.
Family was never a subject I was very interested in. Every time
asked of, it was shrugged off. I suppose I went through the infamous phase of
teenage I-don’t-need-family rebellion. Melbourne has really changed my
view on so many aspects of things and forced me to grow far more and far
quicker than I ever would if I was in the comforts of Malaysia’s
arms. If I were to leave Melbourne learning and gaining nothing, I can at least
say that I have packed on an appreciation for family. Blood is blood.
While we’re on the subject of family – this could be a little off the topic-
I wish that I could be less of me. To further elaborate what I mean, and this
is probably rather Asian to say, but
I suppose I wish I could be more of a doctor or a lawyer or anything of equal
(monetary) status, to give my departure from home for a higher education more
validity. I feel guilty sometimes for being so much of myself, of being a creative, of taking the risky path of
the arts and potentially not being able to bring home the $$$mulah$$ for the
home. I wish I could be a little less of me so I can be more of a boast for the
I'm very unsure of the future at the moment. I don't really know where I'm going. I used to be so sure and now I've lost all certainty. I have spoken to a few friends about this, some more mature in age than others, and they told me not to worry because even they, a decade more experienced in life than me, do not know where they are heading. My mother told me recently that all these matters are minuscule and that happiness should be prioritized over monetary gains. It's comforting to hear that, but I still can't stop the worrying. I swear worrying has been the reasons for the new wrinkles on my forehead.
It's been awhile since I lay my thoughts here. Life is rather overwhelming at the moment. There's so much to do and so much worries. I'm constantly struggling with finding the perfect balance between being happy or being stable. My perception of what being happy is in my life is to live my dream, and that dream means constant traveling and videoing/photographing things, and being stable, which is what society describes as normality, having a career, steady income, being under someone's rules of what you are to do with your time and majority of your life. This is the biggest struggle I have at the moment. I'm not very sure where I'm going to end up and it scares me and I unnecessarily worry far too much for my own wellbeing.
Anyway, I'll dwell on it more some time soon, but right now, I'd like to tell you guys that I'm starting to vlog again. I mean, I have vlogged before in the past, but that was a combined situation with my friend, but at the moment, I'd like to dip my feet into vlogging for myself.
I did say in the vlog that I was walking in Melbourne and realized how pictures don't really capture the full beauty of things and people. Pictures, or photography in general, I love to death, always have and always will, but pictures do not capture the swing of things. The way someone moves, the way they speak, the way their frown turn into a smile, the sound of their laughter, the pitch of their voice, and all those beautiful qualities. Pictures standstill, videos flow.
Another purpose, I suppose, is for my own sanity and happiness. Right now, videoing things make me feel the happiness that I once felt when I photographed and write on this site. I'm not sure where the excitement for those two latter went, but I guess it seeped into this new found outlet of mine that is videoing.
I'm not very good at this and do not know the gist of vlogging, but I have to push myself to do it or I'll constantly live in the shadows of what-ifs.
We were at Brighton Beach, south east of Melbourne. It was really, really a much needed adventure and little vacation. There's an essence about the beach that spills joy and calmness, even when it's raging with high waves and loud splashes. I find little trips like this to be refreshing and restarts the soul. Better yet is the good company. But it's always the company. My core belief: "A place is only as good as the people you know in it. It's the people that make the place."