Vox // Someday

It was a cloudy night. Cold, no wind. My baby daughter and I were on a blanket on the lawn outside our house. Her cheeks were soft, and I could smell the baby powder on her. As I turned to look at the sky, the clouds suddenly dissipated and the stars came out. Tiny twinkles at first, but they soon began to shine with the fiercest of lights the stars could muster. An exceptionally bright one suddenly exploded like fireworks and I looked back at my baby to see whether she was witnessing this spectacle. And in that moment, I saw the stars literally shine in my daughter's eyes. It was such a heartbreakingly beautiful moment that some part of me knew it was a dream, and when I woke up, my pillow was wet and I immediately burst into tears. Sad that my daughter wasn't real after all, sad that it would be years before she would be. But also, happy. So happy that there is a real chance she will be, and I will someday see the stars in my daughter's eyes and not have to wake up alone.

(3.45am, November 30th 2006)

Vox // Say Cheese!

Ever since... forever, I never liked taking photographs. Of myself, of things I've seen. Although sometimes, like when in front of the old Highbury stadium, one is required by default to document said occasion to make any football fan jealous. But I digress.

Pictures used to be something precious. Something you carefully selected to use film on, composed, timed, perfectly organized so as to capture that one moment. Now with everything so digitized, it's convenient, sure. But for me at least, it makes it cheap. In the sense that it doesn't take all that planning to take that photo of your friends hanging out anymore, or of the family vacation. Take as many as you want, you can delete what you don't like later. Simple, simple.

These days I see photographs everywhere on my friends' blogs and flickrs and so on so forth. I sometimes peruse them, as they're usually of events that I don't get to attend. A friend of mine said that she took photos to remember things, because her memory is full of holes (her words, not mine) and she doesn't want to forget any moment that meant something to her.

I don't want to take photos to remember. For me, if I don't remember that particular outing to the mall, or that funny face that one person did, then it's probably not worth remembering. If I remember it, it's because it's special enough for me to keep and store, hole-y or not may my memory be. I may not remember exact dates, exact locations, exact people. But I remember the moods, the smells. The laughter. The sadness. No one takes photos of funerals, or a fight. That doesn't warrant them not worth remembering. I want to remember things for what the moment meant to me, not the poses, not the documentation.

But you go on taking photos okay? Because all if this, hey, it's just me.

Vox // Thank You, Lime Juice

The first thing I did when I got home was beg my mother for forgiveness and thank GOD that I made it home in one piece. That Vortex ride at the carnival nearly gave up my dinner and I was driving home with my head still twirling and rushing around (with two passengers in the backseat counting on me with their lives).

But,

SO. WORTH. IT.


*contributing factors to spinning head tonight are:
- eating dinner right before going to the carnival
- ignoring the headache that was gnawing since the afternoon
- not taking a breather between rides and just gunning for
them one after another (3 rides in total, couldn't afford more)
- closing my eyes during the rides (always always open your eyes, kids)

QotD: Thanksgiving

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We were driving back from his brother's engagement ceremony. I was messing up his hair into different styles for the heck of it. He wanted to see how he looked like, but I shook the camera as usual and didn't manage to get his hair in the shot, defying the purpose of me taking a photo in the first place. But his eyes! :)

/

What are you thankful for?

Not what, but who.

He makes my day, every day. It's impossible for me to stay angry at him because in no time, he will make me smile again. He makes me feel worthy after I've been attacked on all sides by everyone else. We get on each other's nerves constantly ("I hate you sayang" is a favorite phrase) but we know that no one else knows each other like we do, can put up with everything we do/say, and love each other after all the sulking is over. And of course, he smells like heaven too.

Fauzan Aziman, I'm thankful for you.