Monday, September 23, 2013


wildly blown leaves as shadows dancing on my bedsheet a few days ago

I want to start taking photos all the time again. I have stopped for far too long, it seems, and I'm scared that I've almost lost touched.

I want to stop trying to tell others that I'm not a perfectionist when I am always so harsh on myself, work-wise, because I only want to create good work. But then maybe that has hindered me from creating and I've decided that I should just go ahead and do, do, do because that way I'll get practice and learn. Flaws are okay; we'll all get better.

And I also want to share photos again. I have months and months of photos as backlog, all hidden in my external hard drive because I never got myself to edit them and wouldn't share them without a bit of post-processing as that is as much as my process of creation as the act of photographing is.
And I didn't realise it in the beginning, but I'm starting to now. That we all lose that sense of excitement in seeing the photos after I drag them out for too long. And so I want to be more efficient. 

Here are some photos from the past few days. They aren't masterpieces, but I guess that's alright for now.

Dinner at Ruth's the night before: her housemates

Ruth on the floor after being attacked

Playing Charades and the opposite team deciding on a word together

Me, acting out for Charades

Yesterday, one of my closest friends participated in her first marathon. I woke up insanely early to go and support her before she ran, and even though my heavy eyes told me to go back to sleep, I made myself get up knowing that had it been me, she would've done the same. 

She did really well in the marathon, and we were all so proud of her. I came home after a short while though, and had a nap to compensate for my loss of sleep. 

When the race started, Min Fern, Henry, Jacqueline and I decided to go to St. Georges market considering that we were already in the city centre. We wandered around the stalls, peering at some of the little antiquities that were being sold there.
We then took a seat at one of the tables in the middle of the market. Min Fern got up from her seat, telling us that she was going to get something which we'd assumed was some food, only to return with an oreo cupcake she'd seen earlier for Henry. Seeing both their faces light up was priceless; it was the sweetest moment. 

This was the moon a night before it was full, from the skylight in my bedroom. The moon could bring up so many representations to mind, but most of the time I just stare at it and marvel at its glow. 

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