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just another manic monday…

Archive for April, 2012

Instinct, animal or otherwise

Instinct, that creepy crawly feeling you get when you look down a pitch black tunnel and think, maybe I should not go this way.

Instinct, when you see a dog in the middle of the road and turn back to take a detour.

Instinct, when you feel uncomfortable with someone and later finds out his a douche bag.

Instinct, born within us, to protect us, to flee from danger. Used correctly, this handy a tool might save one from mortal peril and some heartbreaks as well.

I remember I identified with the very thing the serial rapist/killer said. It was in the Girl With The Dragon Tattoo. The actor had managed to get out of the killer’s house, but the killer opened his screen door and offered him a drink. Against his instinct, he went back in, and almost died because of that. I just remembered the goosebumps and the chill in my heart when I heard what the killer said to him, after confessing to the actor that he was the killer.

He portrayed himself, much like Ted Bundy, reserved, shy, non aggressive.

All the women over the years that he killed made just one small mistake, accepting his innocent offer of a drink or a seat with him. There was no reason to decline. They never made it alive out his door again. He sees their fear and sense their uneasiness, yet because of the innocence of the request he made of them, against their natural instinct, which sense danger, and which screamed at them to take flight, they ignored it. They accepted his innocent offer, and they were doomed.

He laughed, yes he did. He knows that had they said, “No, thank you.”, they would’ve lived. They would have made it back  to their homes, safe and sound. If only they had heeded that God given instinct to flee.

I think I better pay more attention to mine!

 

Faces of Hong Kong

Some elderly men at the top of the stairs leading to the MTR station, near Causeway Bay. They look upon the world with weariness, as if they’ve seen it all and was tired of them all.
This being one of my favourite photograph. The lady sings her heart out, and she has a oh so sweet voice. She sang, brimming with hope. Ah, yes, she may have been through harsh times, yes, she has loved and lost. But any minute now, when she turns the corner, favour will be upon her and she’ll find joy! Any minute now. She has seen so much of the dreariness of life yet has not lost hope.
A little boy throwing his tantrum in the middle of the wet pavement. It was drizzling. He was pissed! A single glance at the face told me that, but I could not resist taking his photograph as he stomp on the ground. Ahh, the blissful ignorance of a child. Maybe I wouldn’t be so amused if it was my child. But I was amused with this child that particular day. Maybe it was just the holiday mood.

This little girl’s school had just let out. Her mom was speaking to another lady, she was waiting with her hair caught up in pig tails, munching on a snack. Peeking curiously at something, I caught her just at that particular angle. Such a pretty little one, she’s going to grow up to be a real heart-breaker!

The True Story

An actor said on the silver screen, “To use photography to tell the truest stories, that was his aspiration.”
He then told a story of a reporter who spent years documenting the journey of a president from his ascent to his descent from the post.
After that he said he wanted to be a volunteer and to photograph the reality and the impact of the Sumatran earthquake disaster upon the Indonesians.
It was just one of those cantonese drama series from Hong Kong, the title was Only You. Well, for documentation purposes, I need to record the name!
But truly, never will I have thought that I would hear the echo of the dream I dared not even verbalize, vocalized in such vividness. That shiver ran down my spine as the actor shared his dream with his partner.
And I realized that, hey, given a chance, that is precisely what I want to do.
To travel the world, to see what the different countries really are, not just lines and dots and names on a geographical map. But real people, flesh, blood, culture, smiles, tears, the living expression of those places, those names. I wanted to relate those countries with real experiences.
To take photographs and to tell stories through them.
To give the subjects in those photos, voices.
To let their stories be told through the generations.
To let the future know the past.
To let children learn from past mistakes and emulate past nobility.
To let those memories live on.

i like Fridays like this


After lunch, treated myself to a cup of joe and a huge white chocolate cranberry cookie.
Thunder started threatening us with rain.
But it doesn’t spoil my buoyant “Happy Friday” mood, I called it.
Some little irritations here and there, but all in all, I’m still glad it’s Friday.
And it’s so nice to sit down with the bitter, black brew neutralizing the cloying sweetness of the white chocolate and sharp sourish cranberries in the cookie. What an interesting mix for the palate.
Listening to the rain showering down on the warm red bricked pavement, I sighed contentedly, nursing my warm brew.
I like Fridays like these, really.

what we pray for

Just read a forwarded mail: 3 Trees
Oh, how lofty and high their dreams and ambitions were. Not unlike when I was little and the teacher asked our class what our ambitions and dreams were. Some will say, “My ambition is to be a pilot”. Some, “My ambition is to be a doctor”. A lawyer, a nurse, a teacher. I remember mine was to be a neurosurgeon in primary.
Back to the little 3 trees. One wanted to be filled with the finest treasures on earth, but was made into a feed box in a manger, one wanted to carry the great kings and queens of the world but was made into a fishing boat, one wanted to be the biggest, tallest, strongest tree, reach and be close to God, but was cut up into pieces and left in a barn.
In the end, Tree One nestled the baby born on Christmas day, Tree Two carried the humble carpenter, King of Kings and Tree Three was the beam from which the King gave up His right.
In the end, each of the trees got what they wanted, just not in the way they imagined.
I am thinking of all those times when I asked, why, why have I been asking for something for so many years and I don’t see it happening?
Could it be, could it just be that I will get what I want, just not in the way I thought I would?
Well, dare I hope?