comforting

jane birkin (born 14 december 1946)

I have at last found someone cool to share my birthday with.

rose

For a period of 2-3 weeks during mid-spring, these roses brimmed the front garden of a house I walked past everyday to and from the station. The house is made of  brownstone, and is awkward to look at, in that it is of an Edwardian style, but the freshness of its materials and its lack of tall shady trees implies a much newer home. There are statues of cherubs on the lawn, but they too are yet to acquire the charm of age, so instead do nothing but contribute an implicit tackiness. 

For a period of 2-3 weeks though, all this was forgiven - the ten or so thorny stumps which had lined the white picket fence had seemingly blossomed 100 big magnificent roses overnight. The colour of the roses are difficult to describe, and even in the photo above the shade is not quite right. Perhaps the best way to imagine this particular blush of pink is to picture Marie Antoinette biting into a macaron and then ascending into heaven. Now multiply that by 100 and you can get an idea of how inundated with satisfaction I was each time I walked past this house. For a while I considered leaving a note with my phone number in their mailbox so that they could enlighten me with what species the roses were. I never did so, I'm not sure why. Now that the roses have for the most part dried and wilted, it doesn't feel so urgent. 

sorry for talking about the weather again

I've just remembered that watermelons can be refrigerated then cut in half so that the flesh can be scooped out and consumed like a bowl of gelati. This has brought much relief and excitement to the prospect of summer.

post physics exam

- made conscious decisions on food

- enjoyed the weather

- cut finger nails

- wore eyeliner 

- found a seat on the bus without thinking it would be a good chance to go over notes one more time

- discharging 

blatant taunting

I've just about had enough of this studying business. Why is the weather always so fine when I am cramming for my exams?

chim chim cher-ee

I wished they were my parents when I was 6.

locked in a golden afterglow

It was a hot day last Saturday, one of the hottest so far this spring. One of those days where even after the sun has set, you can still feel the coax of a lingering warmth vapourising into the sweaty air. 

At 8pm, the scene in the city was one of confusion: the unlikely combination of race-goers and Halloween. There are three types of women on a night like this: those in cocktail dresses and fascinators, those in something slutty and bloody, and those who look like an average Saturday night. I find myself in this third group - not dressed for anything. My friend is having a last minute birthday celebration at a rooftop bar. 

A few jugs of sangria (and something with sloe gin) later, the weather takes a turn for the worst and the sky splits into flashes of white. There is no thunder, the rain is too loud and the space beneath the umbrellas too crowded for anyone to hear it. 

We find an expensive cocktail bar too wait out the storm. We make flimsy paper cranes out of the napkins. 

call of the wild

A sudden need to prowl a Parisian flea market beckons. 

shall i compare thee to a summer's day?

I don't want to get too ahead of myself, but it's really starting to feel like summer, and the way this photo turned out really reminds me of David Hamilton's work. 

2010

Next year, will you call it "two thousand and ten" or "twenty ten"?

I think I will start with the former, out of habit, and then downsize to the latter, out of laziness. 

stationery

For someone who carried around her writing utensils(courtesy of the University's orientation week) in a plastic pocket for a whole semester, I've really come a long way in terms of stationery acquisition.

Exhibit A: my go-to mechanical pencil - reliable, cheerful, erasable and ice-cream shaped. 4 months ago I received it as a gift from a friend. It has since performed the role of being a conversation starter with many a new friends.

And then I have this pen. I friggin love this pen. It has six colours and is the most expensive item of stationery ($3.95) that I've paid for since my duo tip whiteout (a misjudged purchase - only the brush tip works). This pen is so versatile that it is the only one I've used for note-taking since I bought it. You can screw off the tip to see the mechanism inside, something which amused me immensely until I dismantled it too many times and almost broke the black cartridge. Before that happened though, my friend had written a tiny note and put it inside this 'secret chamber' for me to open when all the cartridges run out. Now this pen is not only a work of brilliant design, but also a time capsule loaded with potential nostalgic value. I am so excited. 

Most of all, it encourages artistic pursuit and provides continual distraction in lectures. 

WTF?!

SO THIS IS WHAT BRUSSEL SPROUTS LOOK LIKE IN THEIR NATURAL STATE. AND TO MAKE MATTERS WORSE, THESE HORRIFIC COLONIES OF BULBOUS MINI-CABBAGES GROW VERTICALLY FROM THE GROUND LIKE SOME SICK JOKE OF A TREE - NO WONDER NOBODY LIKES BRUSSEL SPROUTS (!!!!!)

 

I now realise  how embarrassingly insular my life has been for the past 18 years and 10 months. Someone please tell me that they are also experiencing a moment of disillusionment. 

halloween

At the start of every October, I wish that Australians celebrated Halloween. Though, to be honest, I'm one of those people who don't understand why they can't just make every party a mandatory dress up party. 

To make the Halloween situation worse, some even like to turn it into a moral and political crisis - as though wanting to celebrate Halloween means that I'm selling out to the traditions of a redneck American. 

Well let's just talk hypothetically then. If I was going to a Halloween party this year, I would dress up as Edward Scissorhands. A fairly sane and generic idea when compared to some more radical and abstract ones I have hypothetically dressed up as in previous years. The advantage of this is that I already have all necessary items for the costume (bar the simple craft project of making some scissorhands), and my hair is of the right length for teasing into a Robert Smith nest. In fact, once the novelty of the obtrusive scissorhands wore off, I could take them off and just be dressed up as Robert Smith. 

If you are lucky enough to live in country where celebrating Halloween is not only a tradition, but encouraged upon, what are you dressing up as?

olivia bee

I just discovered this 15 year old photographer about an hour ago on flickr. I don't know why I like her photos so much, maybe because of the way she uses the beautiful natural landscapes around her, or the fact that her friends all look so happy and non-contrived. The youthfulness that exudes from the pictures is so genuine and joyful, it makes me both really happy and really sad.

I guess this quote from Mad Men comes to mind:
Nostalgia - it's delicate, but potent. Teddy told me that in Greek, "nostalgia" literally means "the pain from an old wound." It's a twinge in your heart far more powerful than memory alone.