words, worldly wisdoms & wanna-be photography

Archive for January, 2011

obsessed with owls

As soon as my last exam of this semester was over I decided to finally take the time to edit my photos which have accumulated over the last few months. Today I started with the shots I took of my collection of owl jewelry. I’m totally obsessed with owls, especially owl jewelry; I really don’t know why and when that truly started. It was just something that came along at some point. I do have the theory though that maybe, because owl jewelry are so rare to find (when I started collecting them), it gave me  a “kick” to collect them. It’s like a chase: I’m always searching for a fancier piece.

Here three of my favourite pieces:

This owl ring is my latest investment; I’ve been searching for a ring for quite a while, and about a week ago I found it at H&M! Plain, old H&M. And because I made a good mark in my latest maths exam I decided the very next day to buy it immediately – which I did as you can see.
I especially like the concept of these huge eyes and the idea of the whole head as the ring; it gives this owl such a cute look!

This pair of owl earrings was the first piece of my collection. They’re from the trip to Vienna I made with my family around New Year’s Eve 2 years ago. It was freezing cold at that time; it was our first trip to Vienna and we didn’t knew it would be that cold. My father also stupidly forgot his gloves at home. And so we had to buy him gloves; it was already dark of course and the people were all running hectically around, trying to make as much profit during Christmas sales. In the end we didn’t find any gloves anymore but had a lot of fun shopping at Maria-Hilf-Strasse, where we also shopped in Bijou Brigitte. My father’s Christmas present also included a pair of earrings; there I could choose a pair and my choice fell instantly on this pair.

The latest one is my most fancy piece; I got it from Berlin, while being there on vacation last summer. Next to our hotel was a flea market, the Berliner Trödelmarkt (http://www.berliner-troedelmarkt.de/) and after breakfast my mum and me decided to pay it a visit. And it was worth it; after about the middle and lots of doorknobs (yes, they’re offered as well), antique sofas and bits and bobs, we found a young woman, who was selling, at first sight, antique, old jewelry. At second sight though I noticed that inside of these “frames” were stamps, original, old and escpecially – used stamps. We spent a lot of time just admiring those pieces of handicraft; there were so many motives. There were animals of all sorts, famous people or landscapes on these stamps. Among all those I discovered the one above and instantly had to look at my mum totally innocent and well-behaved so I can move her to buy me this chain. (Well maybe I also begged a little.) Anyway we ended up having a long chat with the young artist who told us that she makes about 15 chains every day; I find this really impressive. In the end both sides parted happily; she because she could sell two chains (they’re rather expensive, but totally worth it), and we because we both had new accessories. After these incident Berlin became my favourite European city.

Well, that was it with my owl obsession. See you soon! (Now after all exams done, I’ve got plenty of time.)


a musical journey

“What kind of music do you listen to?”
“Er… indie. Mostly.”
“Excuse me? I… what?”
“Indie. Independent music.”
“You mean Indian music?”
“Gosh, no, indie! It’s a style of (mostly) rock and pop – but in an independent or alternative style.”
“Ah. Well, I’ve never heard of that before.”

After conversations like this, I usually don’t know whether to laugh or cry. Mostly after having them with people bragging about their musical knowledge (which often means rattling off the newest charts). I don’t consider myself as a musical specialist, but I think that indie’s now so popular (and not so indie anymore, sadly) that everyone somehow’s got to know this term if he considers himself being very much into music.
For you, I found a definition on Wikipedia:

In music, independent music, often shortened to indie music or “indie”, is a term used to describe independence from major commercial record labels and an autonomous, Do-It-Yourself approach to recording and publishing.

And here also a link with a very well-written and original definition: http://www.bob-baker.com/buzz/indiedefine.html

So this is the music I mostly listen to. It took me a long time to get there; first I was, as any other ten-year old girl, into the mainstream pop scene (Madonna and such). Then through my cousins I got to Linkin Park. I was a pretty long time fan of them, listening to their songs non-stop. It wasn’t until some months after their release of Minutes to Midnight that I realized that they’ve turned a bit too mainstream for my taste and so I, very disappointed, stopped listening to them.
During that time I was very on the punk-rock line, listening to Evanescence, Nickelback, Die Ärzte, Incubus, Kaiser Chiefs and such. (It just sounds so pure – actually I was also listening to the radio, so there still was some mainstream music in my life.) The reason for listening to this stuff was (somehow pathetic) that I so desperately wanted to be different from other people, especially from other girls. I wanted to be the one listening to the “cool” music and head-banging to every song, purchasing cds every week (which I never did, actually) and listing, when asked what my favourite music was, all the band names that none of them knew of. (Just sad, that this method only functioned in my school (because, come on, everyone knew Linkin Park, for example. Or Nickelback. Or Greenday.)

My music style only got really “mine”, after visiting some acquaintances of ours. Their eldest daughter, who then was 18, was out, and I explored her room – which includes looking at her cds and getting inspired because she was much older and so automatically had a good taste concerning music. (Why I knew that she wasn’t listening to mainstream? Because I saw her Chucks (something I considered only cool chicks would do) and stupidly and full of prejudices, I came to the conclusion that she must be listening to rock music. Brilliant. As if shoes would indicate your music style. Well, maybe it does – a bit – but it shouldn’t.)
Anyway, I went through her cds and found – tataa… The Kooks, my first all-time favourite band. After that, I was constantly searching for new The-bands or such with names I’ve never heard of – the main matter was that they were indie rock.
In second grade, that means about 2 years ago, I read Sarah Dessen‘s book Just Listen – and much like the main guy, I wanted to become independent and listening to weird things, giving everything a chance, no matter how strange it sounds. I was searching for some “musical enlightenment” (I tell you, here in Switzerland, you won’t get it easily (or at all) with no friends of yours listening to that kind of music). (Remember my boring life? I needed a hobby.) That was why I promised, or better swore to myself, that I would never ever listen to the radio for longer than an hour if it’s avoidable. Why? So I won’t get into mainstream music.
Maybe you’re asking yourself if I managed this task and well, I did. With a little bit cheating: I checked out the charts on iTunes once a week, so I’d know what the newest music was. (This whole no-radio thing is a bit stupid, I think, but it’s lasted til now, so why stop?)

After this restriction I’ve really begun to develop my music; I’d read music magazines and see which bands were considered “good” or “cool” so I could start with them. Then I tried to listen to each of them without allowing myself to throw my headphones away and later forming an opinion about each one of them so I’d have the overview of what I liked and what I didn’t like. (confusing, yes.) This whole categorizing was, as I later noticed, good for two things: First, that I’ve finally found my all-time favourite bands The Kooks, Mando Diao and The Strokes; somehow I never get tired of listening to their songs, of which I’m glad because now I know that they’re music’s now something that kind of defines me, will always be part of me and my life. I mean I’m a teenager and I’m questioning so many things and myself, and I’m glad whenever I figured out something new about myself.
Second, this listening to so many kinds of music and forming opinions about them, I think, was a kind of journey for me. It was about finding my interest and eventually, myself. Music expresses your attitude, your mood, what you like and what inspires you; music can be the most effective thing when you present yourself to someone because it says a lot about you.
That’s why I also think, that music’s one of the most personnel parts of us, because there’s so much of us reflected in our music, because we identify with our music.
Sometimes I get asked for a few musical references and you know, I like to give them, share my likings with other. But you know what? I also think that first, before you ask someone about musical recommendations, you should know your likings first, the thing you would recommend. You have to be sure about them, think of them as part of yourself, because otherwise you might just accept these recommendations without really knowing if that kind of music really belongs to you; you might just take them for “good” or “cool” because the person you got these references from also thinks high of them. (This is all really psychological, it’s so difficult to write down.)
And if you don’t then better go on your own musical journey first; because I think, that searching the domain of your future likings, that’s what you’ve got to do all alone, all by yourself.

And to conclude:
“And you? What do you listen to?”
“Me? Oh, at the moment I’m totally, absolutely the biggest fan of Eminem!”
“Oh yeah? Which song do you like best?”
“Love the Way You Lie!!!!!”
“Ah.”
“Yeah! It’s so awesome! Just gonna stand there and… trallallalla…”
“Well, yeah, it’s not soooo much Eminem. It’s Rihanna actually.”
“And? Because I like the way…trallalallalla…”
“You just said, you like Eminem, not Rihanna.”
“Who cares? This part’s the best of the whole song!”
(Well, I care, because Rihanna’s clearly not Eminem.)

PS: This was my longest post so far, yay! Sorry I haven’t written for a while – I definitely got too much exams right now.


nightly daydreaming

14.01.11/23:28
There would be times, when everyone’s already sleeping – except me. And then I’d stare outside my window, staring dully at the street with its street lamps glowing in a warm, orange colour.
I stare outside and, on one side, I’m totally at ease, and on the other side I’m like… restless. Do you know this feeling?
You’re sitting inside of this safe house, and outside the world’s quiet – except for the few cars passing by. You don’t know what’s happening right now; you’re somehow pending between daydreaming and senseless staring.

it’s dark outside
the street tonight
is once again
still, frozen, deserted
quiet
the world’s asleep

hey! yes, you
what are you doing there,
alone?
standing lost and confused
in the midst of life
without any
guidance

no use in pacing
back and forth
no use in running
in circles
it looks the same everywhere

in the dark you can’t see any
solutions
can’t hear any
noise pollution
won’t feel any
news breaking revolutions
there’s only this big
confusion

it’s dark outside
the street tonight
is once again
still, frozen, deserted
quiet
the world’s asleep

This came to my mind while I was daydreaming. So sorry, it isn’t a product of great logic, but of great fantasy.



flashlights

I see the flashlights in your eyes
and it makes me wonder
what I’ve done wrong

all this time
everything was fine
now I’m left untaught

I know winter is cold
but when did it make you cold, too?

because I don’t know how to
answer
to your demanding questions
and I don’t know how to
react
to your changing behavior
and I don’t know how to
please you
without losing me

with every try  I fail
with every forward I go backwards
with every smile I’m frowning inside

oh, please
don’t make me leave you
and
don’t make me see the bad in you

because actually,
I love you

This came to my mind while being on my way home listening to Sonic Youth’s Total Trash. I’m a total novice concerning this, so please overlook the lyric quality. 🙂

 


go on

It’s the end of my winter holiday and I’m so tired. Tired of everything, of every little bit of work (we’ve got choir rehearsals the last two days). I don’t really know, with all the exams and rehearsals coming up, if I’m able to keep up this blog for the next 2 weeks. I mean I theoretically just have to write 2 posts, but even this seems so difficult to me at the moment. I hope you won’t mind if I may take a little break. (I really hope to not have to do this, because I don’t want to break my promise of PostAWeek)
Well since I’m this tired and it’s the end of my beloved holidays, my mood is equal to nothing. Or to the mood of this song:

in my rear-view
I watch you watching the twilight
behind the telephone lines
with nothing to prove, or to assume
just thinking that your thoughts are different than mine

I’ve just read some thoughts of this song from other people (http://www.songmeanings.net/songs/view/3530822107858704420/) and some of them said that Jack Johnson’s song is about his son. Some other say it was about a good friend of his, whom the album was dedicated to. But either way, that’s not why I feel related to this song; it’s because somehow, I see myself in it. Myself and my troubled inner life. I noticed that now, being a teenager and in puberty an all, I kind of have two sides of mine, always arguing. They’re not exactly my good side vs. my bad side, no, it’s rather the side of me still wanting to be a child vs. the side of me wanting to be an adult already. And all this “fighting” of these two sides causes my numerous mood changes. Which really annoys me (and I think many other people too).

so go on
just go on
there’s still so many things
I wanna say to you
but go on
just go on
we’re bound by blood and love
from the moment that we started

And I don’t know why, but somehow, while listening to it during my bus ride, I had the sudden and pestering feeling to let something go, some part of me. Which logically would be the child side in me. And I also realized that every time I have to go out into the “big, big world” again (for example after the holidays, after a long time of being apart from many people), I get this feeling; it’s as if with every holiday I become more and more adult. And for some of you it may be the best thing in the world, but for me it isn’t. I’ve always been rather mature in my life (I’ll tell you some other time about it) and have always been happy whenever my childish side came out. My innocent, rather naïve and unreasonable side.
But sadly, whether I want it or not, I’m developing. And though there’s still so many things I want to say to my mature side; for example to never forget my immature side, I have to go on.

Uh. See my crappy mood? And tomorrow I also have to go on going to school. Yay.

PS: I’ve just reread this, and it doesn’t make great sense to me. I must be very tired. Sorry.


getting inspired

On cold, rainy days like these I like to sit at home, reading a magazine. Currently the Kinki magazine. In their editorial they asked us, the readers, what keeps us going on dark days like these. What gives us motivation, inspiration, imagination. For me it’s definitely not my school books (which are waiting to be read). Also not a rain dance. Or my bed – it rather temps me to stay in there forever.

What keeps me going on (or even just waking up) are photos, good music, exciting articles… all these cultural stuff.

My list (yes, a list again) of inspiring things on cold, rainy, dark winter days:

But you know what’s best? What gives me motivation, each day and each week (not that there are already many of them): You. It’s really, really nice to have actual people reading my blog and commenting it as well. It supports me, because after almost 2 weeks, I’ve already posted all of my ideas and it’s getting hard to find topics to write. So sorry for my posts recently, they weren’t very interesting or well-written. But I’m trying to improve my posts. Promise.
So, a great, great thanks to all of you! You’re the greatest support these days.


the musing about home by an indecisive soul part 2

Bah. I hate it. Everyday, and I really mean everyday, I’ve got to edit my posts. It’s so annoying and I’m 100% sure that I have to edit the same ones next week again or so. Do you also have to edit this much?

Anyway as for today, I actually (half-) promised you to write the second part to my “home” post. Unfortunately, I’ve forgotten what I wanted to write. (So tragic, it always happens to me.) The only things I can add are my two statements to a saying a friend told me (see the comments of home part 1) and to the movie Up in the Air.

1): Home is where you heart is.

Well, actually, it just confirms my definition of home; because my family’s in my heart, and where my heart is, ergo my family, is my home. But then again, I thought, I must have many homes. Because my heart belongs to Berlin for example, a city I’ve only visited once, but has rapidly grown to my favourite city. Or to my bed, because that’s where I feel safe and warm on dark, winter days (like the ones currently). Or home may also be here in front of my computer, blogging, because doing this feels so right for me at the moment. Is it possible to have many homes? I hope so.

2) Is it possible to have no home at all?

I’ve recently seen the movie Up in the Air, the one with George Clooney, Anna Kendrick and Vera Farmiga. In this movie, Ryan Bingham’s (George Clooney) always travelling around the world, first, because he has to (it has to do with his job) and second, because he wants to tie the record of having 10000 frequent flyer miles. During the film, there are of course a few scenes in which he returns “home”. But is it really home? He calls it home. But how can it be home to him, if he’s hardly ever there? He doesn’t know anything about his neighbours, because he has never time to visit them properly. His flat’s always tidy, because he’s rarely at home to use all of his furnitures and belongings. I don’t think, that his family’s home to him either. He has flighty contact with his sisters; he never visits them and so, doesn’t know them anymore. Home to him, or the real, true feeling of being at home, I think, are the few moments he shared with other people (of course all during travelling), when he (probably) forgot what his goals really were when he completely let himself be there, at this place with this person, and just enjoyed the moment and forgot to actually just stay there for a short time. (Now, if I want to continue, I have to spoil, and that’s what I don’t want to do, therefore I’m not going to say anything anymore about the plot.)
But isn’t this sad? Home for me, is a place where you feel warm and safe, a place you like to be (and concerning me, there can be a lot of those places); or the feeling of being safe, loved and relaxed. A feeling you can always recall when you’re having bad times, and a feeling that will comfort you then. And Ryan Bingham, I think, doesn’t have this feeling or this place. He’s homeless. He’s a lonely soul. He has no home at all.
When I was younger, the thought of going alone through the world, having freedom and all the time alone for you, pleased me. I wanted to be one of those heroes, who were strong, because they’re alone and are able to do everything on their own; who are able to do everything they wanted, having no boundaries at all.
But these thoughts didn’t stay for long; I recognized, that it might be nice just to be alone for a while, but it’s also nice to know having someone supporting you, and accepting you, no matter who you are or what you did. This is the thing I wouldn’t have if I were all alone: acceptance. Acceptance from the people you like. As a loner you’ve always have to fight for some acceptance, for some tolerance. And also an important thing: trust. It’s nice to know people trusting you; and vice versa people whom you can trust. And for my little me (I was about eleven or so), this was the most important reason, why I gave up on the idea of being a “cool” loner. Because I’ve always had problems with trust, because I hardly trust someone and I didn’t want to end up all alone without no one to trust and no one trusting me. And as long as I had my family around me, I realized, this was guaranteed, and from then on I knew where I could find my home.

Uh, geez. That was a big family-love-declaration. I’m usually not this (love-) declaring person.


the musing about home by an indecisive soul

It’s 00:57 am and I’m still up, annoyed that I didn’t write yesterday. But I am pretty tired (I just can’t sleep) and a quote hasn’t left my mind since sunday: It’s a quote I read on Fidel Hart’s Blog:

“…travel can become a compulsion. It keeps us away from friends and loved ones – even when we’re back. When I’m away, I often yearn for home. When I’m home, I’m listless. I seem no longer to fit. History and literature are filled with characters who see Asia, or Venice, and can never go back to the way they were.” -Anthony Bourdain

I commented, that I don’t travel as much as other people do, but because of moving from Indonesia to Switzerland at a very young age, I sometimes doubt my belonging. Or actually, I sometimes don’t know where to belong. I think, if I left Indonesia when I was a baby, I surely think of Switzerland as my homeland. And if I left Switzerland in my teenager years, Indonesia would be my homeland. It’s just too bad that I left at an age somewhere in the middle between the two options above; it has the effect on me that I’ve spent too little time in Indonesia to have the complete feeling of belonging there; but also have not experienced my whole childhood in Switzerland, so that I missed the little, but somehow important things, that you traditionally do in your country during your childhood. I mean kindergarten is in every country different. And these things connect people; in primary school they would once in a while talk about their kindergarten times and share all these memories and traditions they’ve learned together, while I somehow felt a bit left out.

So during the past day I’ve been wondering, once again, where I truly belong too. There are many people asking me whether I like Switzerland or Indonesia more. I’ve got to say, that’s a tricky question and my answer depends on my mood; after visiting my relatives in Indonesia, I’d definitely say Indonesia; but after recently having some amazing experiences with Swiss friends, I surely say Switzerland. Anyway I don’t think that’s the point to really come to an answer about my musings. The belonging to a country, a state, a nation, does it really depend on how much you like it? I guess that now, that Switzerland has a rather conservative attitude obverse (?) (criminal) foreigners, which doesn’t please a few people I know, they still think of themselves belonging to Switzerland: First, because it just the country in which they were born and second there are of course, other, better sides of Switzerland!
And if I’d compared the traits of my two homelands, I don’t think that I’ll know the answer; because everything has its good and its bad sides.

After a long time thinking (I’m so tired, I’ll might write down all my thoughts some time later for you) I came to the conclusion that maybe I belong to neither of these two nations. Why? I think that with me being dragged from my birthplace at a young age, but still not being long enough in another country, I define the word “home” for me not basing on which country I like more to live in,or in which country I’ve got more friends, or on my actual situation (living in Switzerland) in contrary to my birthplace (Indonesia); no, I simply adjusted my heart on where my family momentarily is, I think. (Or, at least that’s what I think at the moment, this may change tomorrow morning.) I think, that home is where I’m surrounded by my family, because that’s when I feel most at ease, and so home to me could also be Germany, French, Italy or Austria; it doesn’t really matter as long as my family’s around me.
What’s home for you?

And you know it’s now 01:32 am and I’m really, really tired and can’t concentrate. I’m sorry that this post didn’t focus so much on the quote at the beginning, if you expected a spectacular analysis or so. And I’d like to write more, but am plainly tired, maybe I’m writing some part 2 tomorrow (I’ve got ideas referring to the movie Up In The Air).

As for now, goodnight world!


the tourist and other raptures of venice

Today I went to the cinema to watch… The Tourist! That’s the absolutely brilliant and awesome film starring Angelina Jolie and Johnny Depp. 😉 The whole story takes place in Venice and during the opening credits I, once again, got lost in the wonderful, amazing and enchanting pictures of Venice – the city of lovers, secrets and lots of history. When I was at home again, I instantly had to stare again at the photos me and my dad took last spring in Venice. This city is totally amazing: it was once the maybe most beautiful city of whole Europe, but now you’ll only see hints of it: most of the old buildings have turned their colours into many different shades of grey. Nevertheless you just get captivated by the atmosphere of the city; you can really feel the history around you. It’s told in the walls, it’s told in the many little alleyways, in all the narrow canals, in their traditional art of living and in the gondolas, these typical, richly decorated Venetian boats. Venice is simply a city you just have to see once in your lifetime.

Here are my three favourite pictures taken on my trip to Venice last spring:

As for the movie I only can recommend it. I’m not good at writing recommendations, so I’m just going to spill everything out, that’s coming into my mind. The movie’s synopsis you’ve surely read on the internet or in the newspaper; I don’t want to write it down, because I fear of maybe spoiling too much.

Reasons why you should watch The Tourist:

  • You like Johnny Depp. Or Angelina Jolie.
  • You like action (that means pistols, chases and such).
  • You like Venice.

Or, you know what? This list doesn’t work out. Next try:
The Tourist is a movie with many surprising turns in the plot, witty dialogues, awesome acting actors, amazing camera work and enough action. Eh yeah, that’s why you should watch this film.
(I know that this recommendation’s really, really bad – but it’s my first time. And my head’s not very clear at the moment, I’ve got concentrations problems – I want to watch this film a second time and just can’t think clear. Sorry.)

Oh, and yeah, reasons why you shouldn’t watch The Tourist:

  • Eh, you neither like Angelina Jolie nor Johnny Depp (although that shouldn’t keep you from seeing this/a film, I think).
  • You don’t like action.
  • You don’t like Venice (although that also shouldn’t keep you from seeing this film, I think).

As you see, there aren’t many reasons for the contra side. So feel free to watch The Tourist! 😀


some small observations

Just short for today: I just want to quickly write down my observations at a lunch I had to attend today. It’s actually  a launch of my family and some other Indonesian families & friends of us.

Observations on a New Year’s Lunch of Indonesian families

  • Most essential point: We like to eat Asian, especially Chinese food. Don’t ask me why, but on every great occasion there would be Chinese food. It’s true many of us have Chinese roots, because many centuries ago, many Chinese people came to Indonesia (and brought their traditions, and that means food too, with them), but still… I mean, I’m bored and annoyed of eating so many times Chinese food. But this whole thing could probably just be, because there are Chinese restaurants everywhere around the world. 😉
  • We like to share our food with others. Like every typical Asian (? Or probably just Indonesian?) family we order the main course for everyone. That means that there are several dishes on the table and everybody just takes a bit of what he likes best, which is possible to order in Chinese/Asian restaurants. That’s in fact a really good idea; if I go eat Chinese with my Swiss friends, I always order a menu for myself and afterwards I’m always full up. So, I just eat as much as I can (without having a bad conscience for not finishing my meal) and in the end there’d be always someone eating up the rest. 😉
  • There are always photos taken (Eh, actually not only of the people, but of the food as well.). Which can be very annoying, but also somehow funny, because it has somehow developed to an Asian trait (just watch the behaviour of Asian tourist, which is also very cute and funny) over the years.
  • Indonesian are known for their love for food; I think that of all nations I’ve got to know, Indonesians really love food most. Whereas European tourist would particularly recommend to each other  good hotels, museums and shops, Asian tourists look for the best restaurants! It’s so typical; when my cousin was once visiting us here in Switzerland, we didn’t get to make a full sight-seeing tour because of their importance of having a culinary tour. 😀
  • The passion for food is also shown in their conversation topics. When I listened to my mum and her friends, they mostly talk about food! But not only food of all kinds, but also the cooking, and of course, good restaurants you just have to visit once in your life.

Well, that was it for now. Seeing, observing, hearing this has just made me so happy; I think it’s cute (Go ahead. Just think I’m weird.) to see people getting so happy just by enjoying and eating food, talking about food.
And last, I’ve finished reading Mockingjay by Suzanne Collins today; and I just found the perfect quote of the main character, Katniss Everdeen for this post:

“… All around the dining hall, you can feel the rejuvenating effect that a good meal can bring on. The way it can make people kinder, funnier, more optimistic, and remind them it’s not a mistake to go on living. …”