I do confess that in numerous occasions in a day I wish I have that God mode access where I will lie snugly between the sheets of comfort zone (and you can judge by that that this kind of attitude reflects a severe allergic reactions towards outdoor activities invitations).
Yes, it felt like eons passed since I visit this home site. Barely in touch with anything connected with my work, one of my passion, which is writing (the newly found one is much more interesting and I believe will constantly diverts my attention if there should be a choosing matter between the two), although both are truly valuably indispensable.
Yes yes yes, prior to having one myself, I had no affection with someone else’s one, even the adorable ones. Of course some are cute and lovable. But that’s it, it struck me in wonder when came across those who are so addicted to their own. Similar to certain major big film industries’s guidelines, they’re overdramatized, overrated, a common predictable patterned outcome that gave me a hunch of what it feels like having one. I assume I won’t fall into this mainstream category. But as easily predicted I did. Like death and taxes. It’s unavoidable.
My significant one said that fresh matters or happenings even the great ones, always have a tinge of “out of comfort zone” uneasiness, a bittersweet slap, right off the bat.
It gives a whole new meaning to the term “drama queen” or king. Paired with the nouveau richean, or a God syndrome newbie spiritualist who had his first time experience a state of peace and joy in meditation, we are the freshly progenitors of our many billions of descendants somewhere along the future… hopefully. Both ashamed and not entirely (strange how paradox works, huh?), gladly I yield to this icky sentiment.
So there I am, at this moment. Constantly drawn to this whole mass of pure joy made from particles and particles of wonderfulness. Just walked in and pay a little visit to say hi.
There are ways to express your feelings and emotions without lacking creativity that doesn’t include self-centeredness. Among those jumbled up paths there are waves of lustrous sounds that comes from music that exudes hope, a delicate tingle of combined sweet smell and bitterness of amaretto pralines someone made after a tough week, or the ones that made a single freeing laughter imprinted in one of those myriads of memories in our minds and stays there, the ones my friend Tita Larasati made by her brilliant wit and delightful charm.
It was later after she made a marvelous depiction and illustration of one of my usual figurative story intended for contemptuous remarks of something that shouldn’t be a bother in the first place, which involuntarily brings me to a wake-up call. A negative energy should be turn deliberately into a positive means that complements self growth. What seems to be a supportive call consisting of hate encouragement comments does corrupt and dull your inner creativity whereas constructive behavior as a reaction to negativity does make you feel good about yourself and give you what you really need.
Here’s where you will taste a very good thing that comes from sullenness :
http://esduren.multiply.com/photos/photo…
and here
http://esduren.multiply.com/photos/photo…
Thank you, dear Tita!
As usual some have their last and most sybaritic sessions for the last time in the year, some have high hopes and posted their resolution with pride through our social networks, some posted their achievements so far (with a splurge of pride) in the past few years, so with this blue moon’s passing,
Have a truthful one. Those that are really meaningful that maybe a couple of second is all it took, but those will be one of the things you recall when the lenght of your memory span got shortened.
Be grateful. Be it none of your self acclaimed achievements but of the granted achievements and blessings given by chance of the natural order around you and these higher powers encompassing your being within and without.
And who could imagine that those are the things I tended to say to myself rather than being rhetorically preachy?
Have another awesome great round of joyride!
Long before Puntianak became devalued as recognized by any Indonesian as Kuntilanak, a local misconception of the real Puntianak, this underrated version of misandrist child eater banshees. Far from the recently popular counterpart of Kuntilanak, which still baffles me why they were deemed only as males, Pocong, an ugly version of mummy potrayal, (only these are the spirit of those recently deceased. I would guess that they weren’t properly buried thus their spirit roams the earth without purpose) there are many spirits in old Javanese faith that was regarded highly as it is in any animsm beliefs.
Like anything that has a name in this world, to the point where even the subtlest thought or ideas has some meaning, everything has their ‘two sides of the coin’ quality. Gloom and bright, pink and grey, yin and yang and so on. So does these spirits have their own benign and wicked or even vicious properties.
In Nadi Amura, I try to revive these almost lost and forgotten priceless treasure that is for the most part deeply buried and ignored in our generation. There were rituals to appease their natural discontent of human destructive tendency to nature and receding moralities. There were stories of how they first became the spirits of the earth that roams billions of years before the smallest form of life existed. Why I inclined more on their darker side isn’t for any particular reason. To cut my boring persuasive lecture short these are some that I adapted for Setesuyara’s pets: (and no, I didn’t create these supernatural creatures out in a whim for the sake of spectacular fighting object that no one cares to bother. Well, I hope not 
)
TO BE CONTINUED
I have always been afraid of any kind of dolls, especially ventriloquist’s dolls. I picture them coming alive, hassles, bothers me, attacks and stick to my being like a bite of a chameleon that will only let go of his sinking teeth on my flesh by the sound of a thunder. But Marina Bychkova has break this curse of hideous dolls perception. Her work astonished me in a way that I don’t mind if I’m surrounded by them in my sleep, in my terrible hours or they cling to me like heavenly angels.
Her work is a state of art, that breaks the common idea that dolls is a hollow interpretation of two-dimensional beauty. Each motion, expression and depiction of each work has its own soul, story, and unforgettable exquisite character of beauty and splendor. The distinctive accoutrements are delicately made and spellbinding. I picture them as magnificent preternatural beings derived from supernatural beliefs and magical worlds. And those I saw as doors and gateways to her soul.
And yeah, she read Terry Brooks, too
Hate is not overcome by hate
by Love alone is hate appeased
This is an eternal law.
-Dhammapada; Yammakavagga, verse 1-20-
That’s the main reason why people like Gandhi exists in this world. My heart and prayers goes to all the victims of this unspeakable tragedy.
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This is one of Marcel’s beautiful work for my upcoming novel Nadi Amura. The illustration depicts the first meeting of one of the main character, Una Luca with the esteemed divine Captain WaGa who only through him can anyone comprehend the nature of the capricious Sophia Ocean. Accompanied by the enigmatic divine advisor, Amadis.
I was raised and taught with a quite amount of fear throughout my live. Unaware of it’s gnawing existence until quite a few years ago. Those fear amplifies when my wild imagination overrides any logical explanation whatsoever. Being brought up by both very skeptical dad and somewhat half and half realistic/superstitious mom I sought always to rebel and seek the opposite conviction. That’s one of the negative traits of creativity outcomes that I sincerely not proud of. Until this minute, those fears still snuggles comfortably, and how many times you thought it is safely removed, they renewed in different forms endlessly.
I have been saving for quite sometime taking delight, savoring by not devouring at once “The Man on The Ceiling” by Steve Rasnic Tem and Melanie Tem. This marvelously written dark surreal memoir leaves you with nothing as close as some storytelling tends to bring you to a save haven where their realities even the scariest one can’t touch you in your real life. Be prepared to dig into the roots of your biggest nightmare, it exist in the core of your daily lives. Even still residing in one third of the stories, I can identify some fears I’m gladly not willingly acknowledge that it actually still exist subconsciously in some hidden compartments of my mind.
The vibe that comes from it screams a solitary message, to face the roots of every threat that hinders you to evolve in this life or the next dauntlessly.
This exceptional work of art clings to you as a reminder of waking up from the longest slumber.
To tell you the truth, I’ve been pacing here and there in restlessness inside my head after deciding to write regarding the subject I’m going to present you with in just a couple of sentences away. This is a common reaction given the opportunity to write about somebody you revere. Even if it’s a blog, I thank all High and Mighty Geniuses behind the creation of blogging and internet for giving us a chance to feel good about ourselves even in the most selfish manner anyone can or can’t handle.
About a year ago, I met an exceptional gifted individual, virtually. Ha! I can see where your spontaneous first judgements are up to. No, it’s far from an obscure perverted chat room, even a cheap dating scene. I never been there and never will, moreover the brilliant person is a she. To cut the story short, both our interest (mostly her dedicated research) had the most fortunate turns for us (well, maybe only me) to run into each other.
To learn about history, is one step away from all roots of ignorance. To know about history, is one step away from sufferings. Even the smallest brained creatures won’t repeat their faux pas over and over again. Devisanthi Tunas, the person I have a lot of respect for, consciously or sub-consciously knows it. Obtaining several degrees in multifarious subjects you can imagine. I’m not going to tell you what subjects, because you are going to find it in this link.
Having knowledge about our ancestry is one thing, but learning about their lives is unparalleled to any valuable inheritance you’re going to get. Imagine where your DNA came from. It’s as simple as that. You will have some sort of alertness, self protected awareness, and readiness in steps you’re going to take in life, by doing or not doing the same manners your ancestors are proud of, good or bad. Relive the victories and while you’re experiencing your own, make sure to appreciate where the traits came from, other then the All High and Mighty. I personally think Santhi knows more about our ancestors than we do. It’s a bit embarassing for me but thanks to her we will learn more.
This may sound a bit selfish and presumptuous of me, but I do strongly feel that she delights in living her life by learning history, thus found the beauty that most people failed to recognize. That is a thought to be considered.