.my feet .

This morning, my feet found themselves on familiar grounds.

My feet remembered walking through this journey twelve years ago.

My feet stood firmly but supported my knees as they began to buckle beneath me.

This morning, I watched my baby brothers feet walk down a platform receiving his high school awards and tomorrow night his feet will be walking towards his future after his graduation.

His feet will be taking him on endless journeys through his next step of his life.

….. and my feet will be walking right next to his with every step he takes.

.the wedding.

I think I have a valid reason for not blogging.

see, my partner in crime, my cousin, my best friend has been busy getting married. And I have been been busy helping her relive the happy moments her and her husband shared the night they said “I do”. Her eyes sparkled all day. A smile rested on her lips every minute. He paced. He smiled and knew he would fall in love with her all over again as she walked down the stairs. It’s the happiest I’ve ever seen them.

I cried. I bawled my eyes out when she walked down those stairs, and as the photographer, I didn’t photograph some of the moments clearly. But somehow, no matter how blurry some photos were, the emotion that these two shared in this intimate celebration was still captured.

So this is for you two. With all my love.

❤

. shadows and light .

Sometimes shadows appear and you almost miss them. But when you catch them, you don’t want to look away.

“An empty space is marked off with plain wood and plain walls, so that the light drawn into it forms shadows within emptiness. There is nothing more. And yet when we gaze into the darkness that gathers behind the crossbeam, around the flower vase beneath the shelves, though we know perfectly well it is a mere shadow, we are overcome with the feeling that in this small corner of the atmosphere there reins complete and utter silence; that here in the darkness immutable tranquility holds sway.”

Junichiro Tanizaki

                ‘in praise of shadows’ 1933

. sketchbook diaries - Jackie Laryea

Look at these sketches.

Yes. SKETCHES. and these are all from the pages of her sketchbook. Oh my.

Jackie Laryea’s  talent makes my heart flutter
I need to start. I’ve been talking about getting started for weeks now but I have nothing. My pages are still blank. My canvases are still white. I really don’t know what it is. I don’t know how to get these fingers drawing, it seems that they are frozen, stiff with no intention of grasping any sort of tool.
I guess I will just continue to look through my inspiration folders. Maybe one day soon, the ‘sketchbook diaries’ entry will be from pages of mine.

. it is about living .

Living is a form of not being sure, not knowing what next or how. The moment you know how, you begin to die a little. The artist never entirely knows. We guess. We may be wrong, but we take leap after leap in the dark.

| Agnes De Mille | 

. because i love amsterdam .

On my computer, I have a ‘because’ folder. These are all my files of things I like, just simply ‘because’ I like them. So I thought I would extend it out onto my blog, after all this blog is a collection of all the things I like, love and get inspired by. Why not share it? After all, it may inspire someone else.

I fall in love with a lot of cities but Amsterdam embraced me back.

Its beautiful, it’s serene, it’s creative, it’s crazy.

Coffee shops line every alley, art galleries trace the outskirts of the main strip,  bikes and trams configure every road and then the network of canals that outline these streets bring some sort of calmness to the city, even in the red light district. Every time I went, I closed my eyes and pictured myself living there. I would travel through the city on a bike, with a basket on the front of course, whisk through every canal and know every shortcut of the city. With my eyes closed, I could paint my life in anyway I wanted in that city and I would dream away on how it could have been there, and in a way, I’m glad that it’s all I have. Sometimes memories, photographs and  dreams  are a little bit better than reality. 

 

Some of my favourite memories were made in this city.

. a single step .