Lunar

赏月

Photography is all about capturing a moment, a special moment which you've personally experienced and would like to share with someone else. But that person viewing your photograph will never experience the moment in the same way that you, the photographer, did. Does this mean that a moment can never truly be shared? But what about those moments, that we may have unwittingly shared? How about two people sharing the same emotions brought about by a song on the radio, even though they are miles apart? How about two people simultaneously laughing to themselves at the memory of a funny moment or a joke they shared? Are these moments that have been shared without being captured? Perhaps the trick to sharing a moment is not to get too caught up in trying to capture it but instead to simply experience the moment and hope that it is being shared as it is being experienced.

Life

The birds and the bees.

I make it an effort to wake up early on Saturday mornings. I like waking up to the sound of birds chirping and having a nice cup of coffee in the garden. Lately, an owl was spotted hiding in the bamboo and a pair of squirrels have appeared to much delight. I have yet to snap pictures of these newcomers but I hope to get round to it someday. All this talk of late about increments, bonuses and careers can get burdensome after a while and I inadvertently forget that it is the simple pleasures that makes life worthwhile. But don't get me wrong, I am still very much in the rat race and still very much a rat. I am merely putting things in perspective.

Allee

Parting Point

This is where we said our goodbyes. We did it in a manly fashion, with a firm handshake followed by a hug that observed the appropriate distance and which lasted for not too long. And then I headed up to the U-Bahn and he headed down to the S-Bahn. I hate goodbyes. But I know that goodbyes are necessary for us to meet again. And meeting again is what friends do. Looking back, I can't recall whether I took this photograph because I had a feeling that this would be where we would say our goodbyes or because of the curious sight of the man using an umbrella even though he was sheltered. Maybe it was both.

Dream

To know that one is dreaming
is to be no longer perfectly asleep

实地

也许
我是个
爱上了
一朵云
的石头

Reflections

Everyday
there's a boy in the mirror
asking me "what are you doing here?"
Finding all my previous motives
growing increasingly unclear.
Homesick
cos I no longer know
where home is.

Midpoint

The morning sheds a tear, as it retreats.

Last night
I sat on that bench to watch the stars
through the crown of the old tree
and for a moment I could feel the
tears of the past

Tiger

Happiness & Health

It is undeniable that everyone wants happiness. What is less certain is how we can go about attaining this happiness. I think it is our choices that move us further or closer to this ultimate goal of happiness. Yet we are often paralyzed when it comes to making a choice. We all want freedom but we forget that implicit in freedom is the need to choose. Often, we confuse can't with won't. But the spring is always a good time to make new choices, even if they are a year late. And so, for this year of the tiger I hope that for you, my dear reader, all your choices will lead you to happiness, even if that happiness only brings just a fleeting smile.

Reflections

Head Eyes Closed

I used to look into eyes to seek affirmation of being loved. Now, I only look into eyes to see if I'm being lied to. Have I become that cynical or am I just becoming like everyone else, afraid of being hurt.

Denmark

De Første Kærester På Månen

I miss those long summer days. We would have dinner at 8 and laze around, watching the sunset late in the evening. Those long days were spent talking and learning, about a different life, a different place. One did so little then but grew so much. These long days, one does so much but to only grow tired.

Meybod

Sandcastles in the sun

Last night, I dreamt that I was building sandcastles on a beach. With a little bucket and shovel, I slowly raised ramparts of sand only to have the waves wash them away. Over and over again, the ramparts would rise only to be swept away. This morning, whilst packing my room I found a postcard from Yazd that I bought during my trip to Iran. Perhaps, the best place for sandcastles is the desert.

Painting

In the Conservatory, Manet.

A painting does not need to be created, it needs to be sensed. Would you believe me if I told you I felt this Manet move? A piece of art is more than paint and canvas, it is the spark that lights the fire of curiosity and emotions within us, propelling us to overcome inertia. I was reading an interview with Henning Mankell and he listed Edward Hopper's Nighthawks as one of his favorite pieces of art:

"What I find so interesting about this painting is that it is really a sort of story. You don't know what has happened before or what will happen later, but there is a story going on. Whenever I see it, I have an urge to enter the painting and sit with these people and see what will happen. When paintings are really working you want to participate in them, that is why I chose 'Nighthawks'. I always see new things in it. I have started to write a play abut it where the setting is exactly what you see in the painting."

Garden

Of Gods and gardens

In 1944 John Wisdom, an aptly named British philosopher, wrote a parable about a garden. It took up just a few paragraphs of an intricate essay in a professional journal but it seeded a controversy that ran for a good few years before subsiding into the mulch of abandoned philosophical debates. Th essay was about religion and the parable raised the question of what meaning, if any, could be given to the idea that the world is watched over by a loving God. The parable went like this, "Two people return to their long neglected garden and find, among the weeds, that few of the old plants are surprisingly vigorous. One says to other, 'It must be that a gardener has been coming and doing something about these weeds.' The other disagrees... They pitch their tents and set a watch. No gardener is ever seen. The believer wonders if there is an invisible gardener, so they patrol with bloodhounds but the bloodhounds never give a cry. Yet the believer... insists that the gardener is invisible, has no scent and gives no sound. The sceptic doesn't agree, and asks how a so-called invisible intangible, elusive gardener differs from an imaginary gardener or even no gardener at all"
~ Excerpts from Intelligent Life, Winter 2009

Knob

Morning shadows, at the right angle.

Early morning;
I like watching the sun's rays chase away the darkness.
and embracing the shadows that remain,
in the absence of light.