[ Gone with the wind ]

If you are friends with me, sadly only on Facebook, you’d have noticed my status post which unsurprisingly got a massive number of thumbs-up in less than 24 hours. Out of my 1047 friends and growing, 8 liked it. Let me repeat that again, out of MY 1047 FACEBOOK friends which is equivalent to 8 individuals if you know what I’m talking about, EVERYONE liked it. How amazing is that? Don’t answer that.

The line was a pure genius and a masterpiece nobody has ever invented, or at least none to my knowledge. It is concise but yet full of meaning. It is within the Twitter´s word count limit but is far too worthy to be re-tweeted. Besides that, my Twitter account seems to get hacked somehow. Anyhow, sometimes anything around you can spark the creativity signal transmission within your brain cells. Anything, weather included.


These few days have been terribly windy, the velocity of which I’ve never encountered before. On the street, I could see people scrunching up their face, as if worried that the wind would blow their facial features away. The eerie howling of the breeze, the rustling of crispy and dry autumn leaves, the rhythmic clanging of empty cans and the clinking of empty bottles from the previous late night became the music to my ears.

No amount of physical clothing could protect me from the impending agony. I once considered covering my face with the thick scarf, which I purposely bought for the weather, but thought that my vision would be impaired. Something transparent would work, I pondered, but wrapping my head with a bubble wrap would make me look like an astronaut wannabe and I wouldn’t want that. Don’t laugh it off, though, this could potentially inspire people to land on Mars, mind you.

I was inspired, too, to be a ninja. A half-covered face looks decent but not daring enough to impress. It wouldn’t be of much use either since dusts and whatnot could still intrude my eyeballs. Those with long hair was much worse off. They ended up looking like a medusa-headed creature. Well, actually that was me. The wind not only blew straight on my face, but also brought with it cold and sorrow. When it blew past me, my hair got swept away and so did my courage and enthusiasm to face the day. The warmth and comfort of home was all I craved for, even though my stomach was empty.

The wind has its own timely gestures. It blows along with you, sweeps you off your feet and guides your every step without you being in control. For once, the world is on your side. However, it also blows against your direction and throws at your face the reality of life that everything doesn’t go as you please. How ironic is that? Perhaps I just over-think situations.

Having been just half an hour outdoor already rendered my fingers and toes lifeless, they were as good as frozen nuggets. My head went cold and my brain frozen as if I had just gulped a BIG GULP. The weather had too much more influence on my being than it was supposed to. It was as if the wind was wiping off the dust together with my logic and feelings. Only when my limbs felt numb did I realize my heart felt the same. All I could recall was the memory that joy, regret, excitement and despair were merely a set of feelings to survive through life.

My inspirations to be someone I’m not: an astronaut, a ninja, and a medusa are all gone with the wind.



[ Back to nature ]

Art is a form of expression of feelings and thoughts.
Painting, photography, poetry, tapestry, you name it.
They do not always work best alone, though, especially when intricate idealism is proposed.
More often than not, a collaboration is required to project the intended interpretation.

Art is composed of, if not inspired by, nature.
It represents the voice of the nature calling for some actions.
Or perhaps, the need to preserve the future.

Nature never ceases to amaze me with its surprises.
The height of the tallest tree does not match up to the unreachable sky.
The vast grassland is nothing compared to the boundless earth.
Our eyes is the only limit to the immense color spectrum that nature imparts to us.

Being in nature makes me feel alive.
It rejuvenates, it refreshes.
It takes away the burdens of life and casts them aside, for the moment.
It realizes the sweet taste of freedom.

Freedom, which makes me reflect upon life.
There is hunger to be accepted and loved,
to be on top of the world but not stumble.
There is thirst to be part of a community,
to interact and connect with the surroundings.

I suppose it is human nature to want to satisfy this emotional appetite.
It is neither right nor wrong.
Just like art,
it is time to go back to nature.


[ I am home ]

I am ten thousand kilometers away for adventures but I am not faraway from home.
I am away from the physical home in which I nurture my two younger siblings,
in which all the worries of life rest comfortably on my pillow every night,
the home that I am so familiar with I often take it for granted.
I am away from the usual routes and paths I travel on the way to school,
and faraway from the people I recognize, am acquainted with, or know inside out..

..but I am not that faraway from home.


I may be distances away from where I was brought up but yet feel so homey.
Or, I can be at the heart of my origin but yet feel so terribly remote and lonely.

Home is the state of mind.
It is where I nurture the thoughts and love of my family,
where I am letting my life worry about itself,
where every little thing is cherished despite its lack of familiarity.
I often go astray but somehow always end up reaching my destination.
I bump into people I knew nothing about but somehow end up knowing something about them.

I am not that faraway from home.
I am, in fact, home.


P.S. Many more pictures are going to be up soon, I promise!



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