End

Quietly, oh so quietly

new dawn breaks across the dim sky

finally, oh finally

zealous warmth seeks out the cold,

but what’s the use, my dear,

of this new light, new day

when the hopeful heart is no more.

The desire for embrace long forgotten

in the murky memories of the past,

of what once was

now remains but mere bones

of an imperfect human soul.

Take the light back, my dear Sun,

take the light back.

Curl back thy warmth

for it is wasted on this land.

No one lives here anymore.

Curiosity

Vacant eyes search, search for that desire,
search for that cauldron, cauldron filled with sweet-bitter fire;
search, my foolish curiosity.

Sound that alarm; that shrill alarm,
warn those who wonder near such danger.
Catch that culprit; catch him in mid-flight,
‘cause mind you I’m sinking; sinking into the night.
A whiff of air brings news of scare,
that a thief has settled; settled in here.
No more vacant are these eyes, heeding such warnings;
but mind you I’m searching; searching for a stare.

Whispers and murmurs flutter here and there
curious minds settle my way, and I hear,
‘Oh her foolish plight, she has led him here’.
Mind, my biggest enemy, it switches these curiosities;
and now I hear, ‘Mind you has he fallen for me?’

Sometimes I laugh,
laugh aloud at my foolish curiosity.

Childhood hopes and dreams: debunked!

Let’s get right to it, and I’m addressing everyone who has every wanted to be someone, something, anything in life and not just the writers. Growing up you could have wanted to be a doctor, and I’m sure most of us had imagined this one because of the importance society places on it (as I did once – tsk tsk). Or you could have wanted to be an architect, and falsely so because you saw your neighbour build tiny houses out of cardboard and thought it would be fun to ‘do’ (like me!). Or you could have wanted to be an actress (or actor) because the ladies (or gents) in the TV and movies looked so glamorous and you thought it would be fun too (like I used to when I was yay big). Of course, at that time I didn’t even know what the word ‘glamorous’ even meant!

Just take a moment and jot down the number of professions you changed in the course of growing up, how many options did you give yourself? One? Two? Three?, or maybe more, a lot more? And how did you finally arrive at what you are currently doing, or trying to do. Now go back to your childhood (not literally of course, otherwise every one might think the story of Benjamin Buttons was actually true!). Have you ended up with any of those professions you professed you loved/admired and wanted to be?

I’m willing to bet that most of us will say no to that question, and very few will find that they did end up in one of the professions they preferred as a child. Why is that so, by the way? That growing up we fancy so many professions, only to end up in a completely different thread? Like me for example. I used to say I wanted to be a doctor, and I believe that was because everybody else was saying the same thing and as kids we tend to copy one another. That’s how we learn, right?

Well, imagine that? If it had come true, then all of us would be doctors, and we would barely have one patient per doctor because simply there are too many of us. And where does that leave the rest of the world? Yikes!

After that, I wanted to be an architect, then an actress, then for a brief while, an air hostess. I have absolutely no idea why I chose these professions. Maybe they looked fun through a child’s eyes. But, several years on, I have found myself traveling down a road I had not even fathomed existed as a kid.

I wanted to be a writer! Pretty much since I was about 14. And though I had no idea how I would do such a thing, I have nevertheless travelled down a road that has occasionally nudged me deeper into writing, be it short stories, poems, novels or scriptwriting. I have done them all!

How did I reach this decision? Utterly by accident, a happy accident, but an accident nonetheless. A day without homework nor reading material, and a teacher telling me not to sit idle. That’s what it took to make sure I travelled down this road. It might come across odd to many people in these modern times, but I’m a believer of fate. I used to say I’m going to be a writer with absolute resolve that the whole universe has conspired in a way to make it so that I hold true to my word. I cannot say I can prove it entirely, but this has happened twice to me: in later years of high school, whenever asked, I’d tell people I’m going to be a movie director one day.

Guess what? I have been there and done that too now! It’s like opportunities presented itself to me and offered me options so I could keep my word.

Childhood dreams and hopes are  child’s play – fickle, fun, and ever-changing.

I did not grow up dreaming to be a writer, nor a movie director – but today, I am both! (Or at least trying to be). If you find yourself being lead down a certain path and you are curious or excited by it, I’d say give it a go. You never know where your heart truly lies till you have given something a red-hot go. It makes deciding on a life long career that much easier and pain-free most days. Even if the destination is fraught with bumps, I can guarantee that you will love every moment, the good, bad and the ugly.

(A photo still from the movie I co-directed/wrote, Sweet Marshall. Image courtesy of PFA)

Painter in the making?! I hope so

Look at this. Just look at it! Isn’t she splendid?

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Oh yeah, bask in its awesome glory. It’s an oil painting finished in a day! – and has textures, and even Garnet crushed and layered onto the surface. I absolutely loved it. In fact, I still love it! BUT, and yes, there is a but –

It ISN’T one of mine! I wish!

This particular painting is by one of my best friend, Rebecca (of the Abecca’s Art blog). She opened her blog a few years ago as part reason to document her work, and also part reason to stay connected in a world when she was living in an Australian Country town, days away from us all down here in Sydney. It kept her sane. In fact, she was the one who mentioned that I might want to give blogging a go, use it as an avenue for creative expression.

Suffice to say I’m a little jealous of her incredible talent! 😛

Here is another one of her work, this is finished now, but pictured below is when the painting was a ‘work-in-progress’. Even her work-in-progress look ten times more attractive than my meagre attempts to be a painter.

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She is a painter, period (except a part-time job to keep her painting). I will be taking few painting lessons from her in the near future. So excited about the possibility of producing something as beautiful myself. One day!

Go visit her on her blog – browse through her many gorgeous paintings etc. She’d love your company too, as much as I do.

In the mean time, here are my ill attempts to paint landscape and flowers! LOL (Don’t judge me :P, I’m still learning!)…hopefully they will look better when finished.

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Career Choice

I have recently spent hours pouring over very boring words (I can’t believe I just said words were boring)…Let me rephrase. I have been attempting to read a textbook for a Uni assignment and the book is written rather lack-lustre. Suffice it to say that I have been struggling to finish it.

Then I came across this little cartoon/comic within the pages and had to laugh.

You know what, I wouldn’t mind a career change to be a lottery winner! Who else here wants that?

SO…this has led me to (procrastinate) do a quick questionnaire: What were some of the careers you as a child wanted, or growing up dreamed of being, but now, as an adult, realise how foolish it was?

When I was a young girl there used to be an architecture student in the flat below. She used to build little model homes for assignments, and I was very interested at that time in drawing and decided that I too wanted to be an architect – cause they get to draw and build shit! I was all for drawing and building.

My bubble was burst a few years later when I realised it involved a whole lot of mathematics which I was devastatingly bad at.

What was your career of choice growing up, and why? And why do you feel silly about it now?

Power of Words

Words are power! It can make a mountain out of mole hill, a storm out of a drizzle, an ocean out of a pond, a monster out of little critters, beauty rise amongst rubble, love emerge through loss or gentlemen out of beasts.

Words can make you smile, laugh aloud or roll around the floor in stitches; they can make you sniffle, or hide your tears sly with a swipe, or outright bawl your eyes out; they can hurt to read, make you passionate about a cause; they can make you hope and feel joy. Words aren’t simply symbols on paper strewn together, they represent our world through our human eyes, experience, language, customs, tradition, and general being.

Words paint pictures, make custom movies in your head; they can give voice to those who need it, tell stories, reveal secrets, string a sweet song, or make you fall in love.

Words narrate stories, communicate feelings and emotions; words may lead to dreams, or dreams may lead to words. Words bind people in marriage, welcome newborns, ferry a child through life, give support to others, family and friends. It can be used to break hearts, settle dispute, or ask someone on a date that could lead to more.

In simple: words are necessity part of life. They are powerful, wise, kind, caring, loving, diplomatic, enraging, frustrating, joyful, beautiful etc.

Words are much more than we give credence to. Words are powerful.

Sur-face

She stared at the rippling water
rolling as the tiny pebble disappeared
beneath the satin blue surface
and wondered as the waves grew wider, fainter
the simple laws of the world
allowing an insignificant fleck
to cause such an effect,
though the water swallowed it whole
left a brief scar on the surface nonetheless
and what are pebbles if not all the hurt
the action, the words that’s been said
and a supple surface of a kind face
ripples with similar fate.
She stared at the surface
almost throwing another pebble, but held
to watch the spreading stillness
as though the pebble had never inflicted pain
her face owning shape on the surface.

Mind tricks

Mind tricks
they rattle
chants
something familiar
something foreign
quiet whispers
they speak
of sweetened words
laced with malice
and life once vibrant
reflects hollow emptiness
dull and weak
intently loyal
at avoiding company.

Red Rain

From a war zone she cried
do not sully
that which was once a folly
of men with hearts bigger than their breasts
and an angst to be
the kings, on top of ant hills
the warring that ran red the rain
once falling on ground green
springing life to be

(You can find more of my poems on the blog. Also, find my novel, currently on free promotion for another 21hours on amazon: In Strange Company )

Follow

Why sadness grips me
when I see you leave
as though you presence
held some meaning for me
you read a few words
wondering their meaning
and came by for a brief while
but now you go as though a ghost
and I wonder was it something I said
I must have said something to upset,
for you to decide no longer to stay.

(This poem is a funny one. Just an hour ago I read a post on Kaufman’s Kavalkade regarding the courtesy that’s there in following back someone who follows you either on blog or twitter and what not – the general waters of the cyber world. It got me thinking and this poem resulted – on what makes someone follow, follow you back, or decide to stay. What an odd thing to inspire poetry!)