Our brief rendezvous

There's always a slight feeling of satisfaction after meeting a dear old friend. Spending a time with a best childhood friend is like finding your old diary in an almost forgotten vintage treasure chest, stored up in the attic. At times, the experience is likened to when you're walking down a lane you haven't been on for a while, or polishing off a mouthful of nanna's home-made chocolate gateaux that you haven't encountered for ages because destiny called study abroad has set you both apart for 10 years.**

As for me, the experience is like encountering a pack of dusty Sailor Moon comic books in the storage room. That definite moment when having the book on my lap, back leaning straight against the damp white wall of the storage room, and me fondly flicking every page of Sailor Moon, is very heartwarming.

The same could be said for what I felt two weeks ago when meeting an old high school friend. Back then, we had many similar interests. Now, we have a smorgasbord of 'em. She is now a Medicine student and a blogger -- a beauty blogger to be precise -- on her spare time. She's Nataly. The last time we met was around five or six years back. And we haven't heard from one another ever since.

So, after those six years I finally met this long-lost friend through Instagram (all hail The Internet) and then we arranged a meet-up for a photoshoot around the Old Batavia (Kota Tua) in Jakarta.



We chatted, we gossiped, we laughed all day looong. We also came up with a gazillion ideas to do a collab for our blog. And preoccupied though we were with catching up on one another's lives, we did enjoy our photoshoot very much. Our photos came up really natural, relaxed, and honest ♫ ♪ 

And Nataly's back with a rad ombré hair. This time, her hair features a reddish-orange hue with a slight wet curl at each end. I remember back in high school how she appeared in our classroom, one day after a summer holiday, with a green, blue, and red hair. It's enough to stir a chaos between the teachers! Sadly, she had to dye it black at the end. Now, when reminiscing over it again, we just laughed it off.

We had nothing but fun and laughter before us. Our brief rendezvous was, undoubtedly, the first of many more to come. 

*All pictures in this post belongs to me. Edits by yours truly.

** Please accept my apology for creating such a mouthful sentence. It's kinda fun you know, watching people hyperventilating as they read through my blog. Oh there you go I'm doing it again. Sorry.

We are the kindest species

They are savage. They devour human being. They are treacherous. Their all-conquering eyes dart right through your flesh, bones, and tissues. They are malicious. They've got tongues that are engulfed in flames. 

Are they some kind of hellacious animals that ready to pounce on an exposed flesh including some random lass’ juicy thighs? Is this all about zombies with supernatural powers? Unfortunately, no. They are the smartest being that have ever lived on earth. They can be gentle but simultaneously, ferocious. They're amiable but unmistakably belligerent too. 

They are two-legged creatures called humans.

Grazie, 2014

Today is day eight of 2015. How strange.. A year has just ended eight days ago. I remember very well, exactly a year ago on January 2014, I was anxious to face the year ahead. A lot of things had happened since then.

Now, I could say that 2014 was the year where I stumbled and crushed, devastated and torn, but at the same time was — by far — the most adventurous year I have ever had. Despite everything that happened within that year, with such a great humility I would say that I gained victory over each and every battle in 2014.

Nevertheless, it wasn't me who won the battle, but my God who won all my battles for me.

I decided I would have this opportunity to recall those battles in a hope they would help me to remember how fragile I was (and will always be) and how God has worked wonderfully to won my battles.

Battle 1 getting post-study work visa, Battle 2 finding permanent job, Battle 3 deciding whether to go back to Indonesia, Battle 4, Battle 5, and so on . . .

I hope this recollection of my past battles would help boost my spirit to fight through 2015. Welcome, Two Thousand Fifteen.


* All pictures in this post belongs to me.

Capitolo 2: Aqualungs

Father and daughter were as happy as a clam ◕‿◕

I am now a certified PADI Open Water Diver! Y-A-Y! * 

Before I'm exposed to this diving absurdity, I had no idea at all that diving course would only require so little time. I thought the whole diving course gonna take weeks (in my case, months), however, you could actually squeeze it into two days. 

So, what is this PADI thing then? PADI Open Water Diver course is the first step you have to take if you'd like to take a scuba diving certificate. Basically, it's the entry-level course. There's around five or so scuba diving certification; PADI and SSI to name a few (I don't know the rest). I never heard anyone got their cert from SSI, so you can just leave it out and take PADI course instead. PADI courses in Indonesia aren't hard to find nowadays. I know there are several in Grogol, Senayan, Ancol. The one that I had was at Divemasters Indonesia in Kemang, South Jakarta. Psst! From what I heard, this dive centre is the best in town!

An underwater ballad by Leslie Burke

I'm moving gently forward,

over the wild and beautiful

unexplored world below me.

I'm floating in silence,

and breaking it up

with the sound of my breath.

Above me, there's nothing

but shimmery light,

the place where I've come from

and will go back to when I am done here.

I'm diving.

I'm a scuba diver.

I'm going deeper 

past the wrinkled rocks and dark seaweed

toward a deep blueness

where a school of silver fish wait.

As I swim through the water,

bubbles burst from me

wobbling like little jellyfish

as they rise.

I check my air.

I don't have as much time 

as I need to see everything,

but that is what makes it so special.

Self-Contained Underwater Breathing Apparatus 

by Leslie Burke (Bridge to Terabithia)

Capitolo 1: Nautical baby

I think my mom gave birth to me in the ocean.

You know those water births? Some said it is less painful. Heck, I don’t know; I’m not even married yet, let alone having a child. Anyway, HEY, I’m not going to talk about water births here.

Yes, one day I just went blank and this thought popped up in my head:

I think my mom delivered me in the ocean, underwater. 

I always feel I have a special connection with the sea. Holiday time to the beach always excites me. That feeling of having your feet buried within the soft khaki sand where you get a ticklish sensation in between your toes. And then getting your feet soaked up by the breaking waves. Hmm…what an experience worth killing for.  

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Gallery day

I went to Galeri Nasional Indonesia today.

It was my first visit to one of Jakarta’s local attractions this year. Not that I’m indifferent towards visiting local museums, art space and monuments, it’s just I had had no time. Heck, I didn’t even have the time to think of visiting those place when I was still working a couple of weeks back.

I, myself, am a fan of museums. Well probably not the museum, but the mystery each museum has.

So today, after my 6-month hiatus of visiting museum (the last museum/art space I went to before Galeri Nasional was Melbourne’s NGV), I finally set foot on one of the capital’s topmost art space – thanks to my ex-housemate-cum-best-friend Dyota, who took me there. 

Late night Ghibli snacks

Ever had some late night Ghibli titbits? Mmmm they’re ultimately scrumptious.

Lately, just lately, I’ve been spending my quiet nights with my sister’s laptop in a precise 5cms away from my toes, with my back leaning on the smooth faux leather upholstery of my sister’s bed, and having two thirds of my body buried from torso to toe by the warmth of my sister’s duvet. Okay, I reckon the possessive reference to my sister is getting a bit annoying. Obviously, the writer here has been numpang at her cozy little sister’s bedroom – because apparently her own bedroom is a wreck (we’ll get back to this topic a thousand post from now okay).

The point is, what my sister and I have been viewing on the laptop. Everyday, we dive into our daily dose of heroin: Studio Ghibli romps. Firstly, let me share an explanation on why and how we could get Ghibli films. I did buy several original copies of Studio Ghibli films in Melbourne. Spirited Away and Ponyo. However, these two are as many as I can afford.

Review: Something in the Way (2013)

As I said in the previous post, a friend of mine from AIYA Victoria - Daniel Brooks - kindly requested some students to write a review for films (one student for each film) we went to see during the 9th Indonesian Film Festival. The review was posted on AIYA's blog. The option was on us to decide what film we would like to do. I chose to write for Something in the Way which was screened for the opening night.

Film festival is always my favourite

The thing is, all film festivals showcase shortlist films - which means, the films screened are thoroughly selected from the best. Being a resident of Melbourne for more than two years, this year is my third in celebrating Indonesian Film Festival (IFF). Turns out, it's the 9th year for the festival. My, my..it's amazing to know how Indonesian films have been celebrated in Melbourne far before I came to study in this bustling city.

What makes this year's IFF more special is because this is the year where I sort of building up my career. As a present for my loyalty for the media I'm currently working in - that is, the fabulous OZIP - God gave me a special gift. I was appointed as the assistant for the new editor. And of course, new responsibilities follow my new position. I've been entrusted to take care some of the regular pages as well as organising workloads among our team to cover monthly events.

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Feeling nostalgic

/ Il Battistero di San Giovanni, Piazza dei Miracoli, Pisa, Tuscany Province, Italy / 

Hey, it's been more than a year.
There was nothing to be called as an achievement.
It wasn't my part to boast.
How grateful I am!
To be able to venture out, satisfying my hunger and thirst to realise my dream.


Picture by Pingkan Isabella

The girl has never looked happy since December last year.

No more familiar curves of her bright red lips; they have probably been straight ever since she encountered the world's bitterness. That bitterness..that once was so sweet you thanked God for delivering you to the world. But now everything she wants is home.

"I want my parents," said the girl. Her lips were barely moving.

There was a moment of silence... I could hear her breathing. Inhale, exhale. In and out. I felt like a Kungfu Master, able to follow one's breathing pattern.

The silence was harrowing.

She threw her head to the other side. I could see her eyes shooting at the bare white wall.

"You couldn't find life's solutions on the wall," said her. "I used to be like that wall," she lifted her delicate arm and pointed towards the wall. "I was strong. People adored me for my strength."

I embraced myself to respond. "Was?" said I.

"I said I used to. Not anymore now. If I am, I won't be here, in this room with you."

I hesitated.

Tears were trickling down her cheeks.

"I feel like giving up," she said.

Tick tock: life's a clock

Look ahead!
A bird is flying graciously above my head and cutting into the thin air right in front of my eyes.
Look further down to its talons!
It is gripping something.
Something - a small, circular object.
It is a gold pocket watch.
My gold pocket watch. My time. 
"Oh! A bird just stole my time away!" I say.

I hope - I really do - that a bird really stole the time. That way, I could chase the bird and get my time back and therefore, relieve myself of the moments I hold preciously. Too metaphoric, I know. But I really wish . . .

It's not for the faint-hearted

I remember my mother said, one could be super genius in school - but as soon as one enters a university his brilliancy dims. I strongly believe that there are a number of your friends who got straight As in nearly all school subjects and won school competitions, but ended up struggling in university. This, I have seen a lot - and this has happened to me, as well.

I was doing pretty well in school. I don't have any intention to brag at all, but this was the fact. My grades were okay and I joined lots of school competitions. But what happened after I enter university was beyond anything I had ever imagined.

I didn't fail my subjects (Thank God), but I was struggling very very hard throughout the year. When I thought about choosing journalism as my major, I was thinking, "Unless I will have to do a live report in a battlefield I won’t have to worry about anything!"

Wrong. 

Place of Assembly photo batch

A facade of Schoolhouse Studios: 97 Nicholson Street, Collingwood

There's no place like school: Say farewell to Schoolhouse Studio

Place of Assembly was officially opened last Wednesday as a final tribute to the 120-year-old building

Schoolhouse Studios is a local hub of arts community which houses 85 artists from varied arts disciplines.

The place has an orchard garden with swings, a chicken coop and a pop-up bar every Friday night. With a plethora of artists, Schoolhouse Studios is like a—well, a school, with such a warm community that involve in a daily interchange of ideas. Needless to say, this is a paradise for artists. Unfortunately, this haven is ephemeral; the end of 2012 is also an end for this vibrant community.

It started well when Alice Glenn and Elizabeth Barnett leased the property at 97 Nicholson Street. The property has stood for more than 120 years as a tannery, monastery, technical college, and Sophia Mundi Steiner School. Since 2011, it has become an artistic community called Schoolhouse Studios, managed by Glenn and Barnett.

The studio extends across several buildings with bleak classrooms that have been transformed by the resident artists into radiant art studios. “We’re blessed with the site definitely,” shares Glenn. “The people have made Schoolhouse Studios what it is.”

Community is seen as a fundamental element which distinguishes Schoolhouse with other art studios. However, they have to keep in mind that this is just temporary as the site is going to be replaced by new townhouses.

And thus, instead of releasing the property reluctantly, Glenn and Barnett threw out a party to bid the studio farewell. The result is Place of Assembly, an exhibition presented through a collaboration between Schoolhouse Studios’ resident artists and 15 guest artists in association with Melbourne Festival. The exhibition opened on Wednesday 10 October and will continue until Saturday 27 October.  

Both Glenn and Barnett embrace it with optimism. “It’s just a great opportunity for artists to come here and work in an environment that is gonna be pulled down,” says Glenn.

This has somewhat inspired the artists; one of the art installations by Zoe Scoglio tries to link geological instruments with the demise of the site, as written on its placard that it is “intended to prepare the Schoolhouse Studios for its imminent passing from structure to rubble.” This installation consists of four rituals which call for the spectators to participate. One of the rituals invites the viewers to “break-off” a chunk of the studio wall and wear it as a pendant, while the other invites viewers to join in a sound parade to “encourage the ghosts to find new homes”.

Other installments combine multiple arts disciplines: architecture, painting, sculpture, performance, video, and more—all assembled in a one of a kind odyssey that unfolds the reminiscence of the buildings. At least that is what Glenn is hoping from the exhibition, “what I hope to achieve was just an exciting sort of adventurous place where people could come … and also been exploring the building and the site itself.”

“Hopefully people would come away with a sense of ‘how beautiful this place is’,” says Glenn.

And yes, indeed. Sara Josephine, a student whom a jewellery maker in her spare time, undoubtedly thinks so. “I think it’s [the exhibition] very unique and odd,” says Josephine who really admires Glenn’s installation: a collage of more than 300 people cut off from the pages of National Geographic. “It’s quite a rare experience to see such a community and I guess it will be better if they keep the building and keep the arts alive.”

Sadly, there is nothing Glenn and Barnett can do to prevent the demolition. They have been looking in a couple of factories and warehouses to relocate the studio. “We’re hoping to find a site that will house everybody, so that everyone can move together,” admits Glenn.

“Mainly, we wanna keep the community together.”

At the end, the most precious thing that needs to be preserved transcends the orchard garden, the chicken coop, the pop-up bar, and the walls of the studio. Schoolhouse Studios wants to preserve its own community.

A is for Alpine

Source: Frankie magazine (issue 44)

A is for Alpine and astounding. We’re not talking about the mountain—Alpine is an electropop sextet Melbourne band with two frontwomen, Phoebe Baker and Lou James, bringing the gentle but cold breezy voices that are emblematic of the band’s trait. Alongside with the singers are Christian O’Brien (guitar), Ryan Lamb (bass), Timothy Royall (keyboards), and Phil Tucker (drums); who work solidly in creating the synth character of Alpine.

The name of the band insinuates something that is related to Europe—or Switzerland. Their bond with the country seems even more prominent; the band was once called “The Swiss” and they even released an EP on 2010 titled Zurich. Although Alpine associates with the infamous frigid snow-coated mountain, Baker admits in an interview, “When I think of Alpine I think of this kind of fresh clean beauty which kind of reminds me of…not fresh like zesty…more like how you feel as if you have just had a nice swim.”

Their debut album, A Is for Alpine that was recently released on August 10, practically proves what the frontwoman says. It is fresh, smooth, clean, and rejuvenating. With a nice casual tempo (like a synchronised swimming), most songs are dominated with crisp guitar riffs. It is quite mild and not as loud as Zurich. However, A Is for Alpine doesn’t stir up sentimentality because the drumbeats are danceable.

Baker and James’ vocals give the band a signature. Despite their passionless vocals, oddly enough these have captivated the listeners; such as Hands with its unique swinging vocals and Lovers 1’s breathy vocals.

Furthermore, there’s nothing quirkier than the lyrics themselves. The typical of Alpine is their reverberant lyrics. There aren’t any clear distinctions between the verses and the refrains. Some songs even have meager sentences that couldn’t be identified as the verse. And they're also ambiguous, like in Gasoline and Hands ("There's gasoline in your eye" // "It's OK to feel the ring on my hands, my love, my enemy"). Almost as ambiguous as the lyrics is Hands’ risqué video clip which shows young women in skimpy outfits kissing their own hands.

The album itself

Nonetheless, it seems Alpine has learned from their previous EP, Heartlove, to repair their dictions in this album; recalling the moment when people argued on YouTube over the real lyrics (fans listened "I love catfood tonight" whereas the real lyric was "prowl like a cat through the night").

These factors (reverb vocals, ambiguousness, articulation) are again that charm people. It's either bland-emotionless or zestful-invigorating, depends on the listeners. At one point, though, the reverb vocals become addictive. Then again, who cares of ambiguousness and articulation if the music beats could lift you from your seats? A Is for Alpine provides the likeness of Zurich for fans; nevertheless it serves an outlandish flavour for Australia. Just as Paul LEster from the Guardian says, "Hands down the best Aussie band we've heard all year."