Trios (xii)

___________________________________________

I have been searching for so long.

What exactly have you been searching for?

Belonging. I have no idea where I am. Or where I'm supposed to be.

What do you mean?

All of this has really got to do with time. It's a very... it's a really interestingly odd thing. You see, things seem to be happening quicker than ever; and I have ocular proof that people have been progressing with there lives. My friends are all doing all sort of things that people my age are doing. I feel as though I should be amongst them.

Let me interrupt you there. I think your main problem is all revolved around self-discovery. You are insecure that you don't know yourself; and thus you don't know what you want or what do expect. You are, confining youself to thing that you know you perhaps enjoy...

...Now, now. I think I'm pretty certain that I am myself. I often probably take the third person view in order to evaluatate in retrospection. But I'm almost certain that I'm always almost myself.

Ok then. If that is the case, then how many things do you feel; but aren't able to put into words.

Surely that is dependent on my ability of expression rather than knowledge of myself?

I dunno Eric, is it? Is it a product of you inability to express what you feel? Or is it something that you're hiding due to insecurities of concrete things. I know you Eric. Once things have been written and properly expressed in an comprehensive language; you know it has been set in concrete. This is why you're afraid of saying anything that you truely mean. You know this. You prefer everything you know to be taken up in abstract terms. You prefer things to be erasable. You prefer things to be able to change. You are constantly in the grip on things; in the fear of failure. You're always treading too carefully, wanting to know the results without taking the plunge. And thus you always miss your chance.

Hyena

A buffed up version of Toby Gorman,

built like a pit pull, crossed with a wolf.

Essentially a huge killing machine that laughs like a maniac while it tries to bite off your face.

Some people say that they're not that big. My only reference is wikipedia; and they say the spotted kind stands at 80cm. To me; that's huge.

Trios (xi)

_____________________________________________

I was sitting idley, crossed legged on my bed, staring blankly into the night. Smuck had poked his head through the door.

"What ho, Eric?"

I learned over to the sound system and turned down the tune 'Talk Show Host'.

"Nothing much, just marvelling at the amount of things that can happen in a year."

Smuck unbuttoned his suit front and sat down; a soft velvet chair materialising beneith him as he fell.

"Let's hear it then."

"It certainly feels like I've learnt a lot this year, most things seem to make sense now..."

"I would call that coming of age."

"...but obviously there is still plenty that I don't have a clue about. But I think it's safe to say that I have most of my personal principles and beliefs down; as well as my goals and ambitions."

"This is true, one cannot claim that he knows everything."

A comfortable silence falls between us.

"The start of my first year of university was most frightening.

Everything alien, everything was new.

I feel though I learnt more about myself then anything else.

Which is terrific because I've always been a mystery to me."

"This is good. Very good, mind if I light my pipe?"

"Oh no, go ahead, just open that window." Smuck struck a match on the arm of the chair, and proceeded to the window. I continued, "I've learnt so much! From meeting the exclusive group in my course; to concentrating on giving good impression to Pricilla every drawing class; to building, mending, re-inforcing, present and past relationships; bus trips with Cassandra; to knowing how to study effeciently; to learning how to unwind; to meeting Cho. In hindsight, it seems though every moment has been a lesson by itself.

It's been a terriffic journey. Jam Packed with events, emotional disputes and revelations."

Smuck gives me an amused look. "Did you notice that all your lessons that you have learnt, seem to come from conversations and interactions with people?"

"Why is that worthy of a note?"

"You have often said that you don't like people."

"I don't, they stress me most times."

"Two sides of a bladed sword."

"You know, this world is funny, and full of contradictions and convolutions. And I think i've decided: I like people."

It's not what you know; it's who you know

birds of a feather

Colours of the Rainbow.

Q: It really frustrates me when people say that there are X number of colours in a rainbow. How do they differentiate where one colour starts and one ends?

A: Crayola. Poorer kids see few colours.

Dear Time

--

Dear Time,

Would you kindly slow down? Everything is spinning too fast too quickly. A entire year of uni has been completed, I've learned a lot and cruised along for most of the year, but in the great scheme of things I haven't achieved a lot! My friends seem to be going around, advancing in leaps and bounds! I'm just wishing you to give me a chance, to catch up with the rest of the crowd!

Sincerely, Me

--

To whom that may concern,

'lol'

Kind Regards, Time.

--

We complain so much; but life is never as bad as it seems.

Perspective.

I'm sure they weren't all monsters.

Sorting

sorted dreams;
devious transports;
chemical inbalance and
words with incomprehensible understandings.
--

The door of the lighthouse was ajar. They pushed it open and walked into a shuttered twilight. Through an archway on the furtherside of the room they could see the bottom of the staircase that led up to the higher floors. Just under the crown of the arch dangled a pair of feet.

Slowly, very slowly, like two unhurried compass needles, the feet turned towards the right; north, north-east, east, south-east, south, south-south-west; then paused, and after a few seconds, turned as unhurriedly back towards the left. South-south-west, south, south-east, east...

Aldous Huxley, Brave New World

--

Pain is so much more exciting then numbness brought by pleasure and luxurious happiness
Oh Brave New World!

Prelude: Spring No.9

Spring was just round the corner.
The winter weather was forgiving.

High hopes, radiating heat, sunshine and quick shutter speeds.

--

@ Rooftop, Swanston

"maddy maddy maddy maddy maddy maddy maddy maddy maddy maddy
maddy maddy maddy maddy maddy maddy maddy maddy"

For the first time in my life; I saw my first split end. Hair is so strange.

Pre-occupied.

Taken by Maddy: Good shot I think.

I should learn to focus quicker. Taking this was so awkward. Sorry Sunni for making you so self aware.

Musician Daniel Chow.

There are far too many shots of of this girl.
--

@ Samurai, Glenferrie

"Papa looks indian here"

Matthew Grey
--

@ home, Kaisman

Foam Dinosaur.
I enjoy taking pictures of tiny things too much, should invest in a macro lens

--

@ Fencing Factory, BrunswickThat kid you see on the far left? I beat him 15-3.

Blacklord's Fencer(Timara) vs Monash Fencer(Derek)
--

@ Monash University, Monash

cho

cho's glasses + me

Me discovering 'young frozen coconut juice drink'
Photo by Cho

"It's good!"
--

@Shanghai Dumpling House, grungy alleyway
The Duke of Dunne, looking his finist.
--

@Art Centre, St Kilda

The play was "God of Carnage". Originally written in French, translated into English. I highly recommended.
General Synopsis taken from wikipedia:

Before the play begins, two 11-year-old children, Ferdinand Reille and Bruno Vallon, get involved in argument because Bruno refuses to let Ferdinand join his 'gang'. Ferdinand knocks out two of Bruno's teeth with a stick. That night, the parents of both children meet to discuss the matter. Ferdinand's father, Alain, is a lawyer who is never off his mobile phone. Ferdinand's mother, Annette is in "wealth management" (her husband's wealth, to be precise), and constantly wears good shoes. Bruno's father, Michel, is a self-made wholesaler with an unwell mother. Bruno's mother, Véronique, is writing a book about Darfur.

As the evening goes on, the meeting degenerates into the four getting into irrational arguments, and their discussion falls into the loaded topics of misogyny, racial prejudice and homophobia

There's nothing like a live performance.

See the man second from the left? That's Hugo Weaving.

Double A Sphere

I think this photograph perfectly summerises the enjoyment of that night.

Thing that made this weekend interesting.

- Badminton.
- Bridging the Acquaintence-Friend gap.
- Restful Sleep.
- Wearing a Suit that I've been meaning to wear for a while.
- Anxiety
- Driving at 110km/h.
- Pretty Girls
- Skin
- Substance Abuse
- Foolishly Dancing
- Empty City Strolls
- Shallow Lungs
- Long Walks in Soft Rain
- Being Concious for 28hrs.

Money well spent

Fencing

Tom Foster, reigning Novice Champion.

___________________________________________

The venue was the "Fencing Factory", some old refurnished warehouse in the industrial area of Brunswick. Everyone rocked up promptly at 11am for the beginning and registration of the players. The competition ran as follows:

1. People split into random pools/groups and had a bout(match) to 5. Total Score is collected and comparied with how well everyone else; thus aligning you with a rank.
2. Elimiation Rounds ordered in a way to polar the differences in rankings, thus leading to finals and bouts for bronze, silver and gold.

For me, I fenced 3 bouts and won 1. Although I managed to get 4 points of Matt Foster. I was given a rank of 8/13.

In the eliminations; I took 4 minutes to finish off Sam Esler (rank 9/13) with a score of 15-3. Then I was put up against Renier Ackermann. *sad face*

Me (4) vs Renier Ackermann (15)

My Last bout. It was insane. Achermann would twirl his foil in an attempt to bind my blade and rush forward, closing distance, forcing large angles to score points. I was disarmed about four times in the 6 minutes. My attack was often inaccurate and my defence was unconfident. I couldn't really do anything but run away; and look for tiny openings.

Afterwards, I asked Renier,

"How Long have you been fencing for?"

"About 9 months?" he casually replied.

"oh..."

Kenneth Leong vs Renier Ackermann

Brother classified them as "in fighters". People who get close with their pistol grips and stab happily.

Kenneth Leong vs Renier Ackermann.

Kenneth Leong seems to enjoy jumping a lot. The bout was very close. Renier ended up winning 15-14.

Everyone is laughing because he's short. Left to Right: Renier Ackermann , Matt Foster, Kenneth Leong.

Winners are grinners!
I didn't know why I take part in the 4 other novice competitions earlier this year. The game seems to give me a much larger adrealine rush than any sport that i've played before.
___________________________________________
Kenneth Leong is from Melbourne Uni Fencing Club. I didn't know you guys had a fencing club.

Campus News

There's bathroom graffiti, and then there this:

Written over the walls and appliances: No More Rape; Stop Violence Against Women; Consent is Sexy.

The motivation behind this causes me to be concerned to say the least.

Pursuit

People are naturally jealous.

When they see something they do not have, something new, different, they automatically desire it. Although what it is that we desire is completely different from person to person; whether that be friends, events, intellectual stimulation, chemical pleasures, materialistic endeavors or even the number of figures in your bank account.

But the interesting thing, is that no matter what we do, with all the things that we horde and collect; the fact remains:
People Never* Change.
___________________________________________
*unless you under go traumatic stress.

Gramps

"Sometimes, I wonder where my guts were back then.

14 years old; with just a few dollars in my pocket, and a piece
of crumbled paper with a roughly scribbled address.

Leaving McCau, catching the ferry to Hong Kong. Flagging down
a taxi.

I ran two suburbs to avoid the taxi fare.

But what else was I going to do?

Mother, Father, brothers all gone. There was nothing left for
me in McCau.

"

It never fails to amaze me, how far they've gone.

From absolutely nothing to a life of relative luxury.

Charlie

I take back everything that I said on Fridays. For I think I've realised that I'm now on a different plain.

Halls of giant meat warehouses. Dog's carcasses, skinned, hanging by the hook. Some were screaming at the abusive slippery floor, sticky with life; others were punished: their screams interrupted, by a cruel impalement from below the jaw and through the eye.

We ran from hall to hall, searching for something, something to make my Charlie better. I could feel him going limp in my arms.

"We found it! We Found it!" Our leader exclaimed, he was over the moon, dancing and wagging his tail. So we quickly got to work, covering Charlie with the grey miricle mud. Our skins hurt, burned and sizzeled to the touch of mud. Charlie kept squirming and gasping for breath.

"You, go watch the door." I took a step back and parted from the surgical scene. From afar the scene was atrocious. The floor was covered in blood, screaming Charlie was being slowly muffled as the mud was applied methodically; in the background, deceased dogs watched emotionlessly from their unblinking eyes.

Beyond the door was a great big carven, of blue lit streams and curious beams of light. Wicked crabs crawled and scampered as I came. First they were curious, and then they leaped. The fight was quick, but took precision.

There was suddenly a great chill, that washed over me. I looked back to see a field of summer. A figure in a yellow checkered dress and pink umbrella came skipping over, and introduced herself as 'Jee'. She took my shaking hand and lead me to sacred site. There lay Charlie, in all his glory. Completely different from before, for now he lay under seven inches on concrete.

An explanation was not supplied, for my friends were not present. Jee was blissfully euphoric, and skipped away to tender a group down the hill. I tired to get her attention, but I was left to mourn with Charlie.

I don't like how my dreams play in infinate loops until I wake up. Each a little clearer than the last.

Alan

Believe it or not, these are quick portraits of the same lecturer.

I guess I got a bit carried away when I pointed out to a friend,

that this man could easily pull of a old school styled joker.

His named was Alan. He was a graduated Electric Engineer that found himself working in Bio-Medicine Research.

He remininced that when he was at university, digital calculators were the hit thing, like what iphones are now.

He said that he was fortunate when he was researching neuro-activity, for he had a electronics background. This was because he himself had to invent a every piece of equipment needed to carry out his research and experiments.

He said that he found that he enjoyed creating these medical instruments more than the actual research.

Alan soon found out that a lot of her peers, other medical researchers, soon requested the use of his equipment.

Being that opportunist that he was, he started a company that created this unique research equipment.

His company blossumed.

After celebrating 20 years of establishment, he sold his company.

And reserved a ticket, to be one of the handful few tourists to fly into space, through Virgin Airlines.

(This is why you should do electrical engineering)

Illusionary Sky

I enjoy casually strolling around campus.
It was a beautiful scene:
The rains had freshly broken,
the clouds had parted to let the welcoming warm sun the shine through.
The high winds had died down to a gentle breeze;
a lorikeet lay on the face down,
silently screaming into the wet footpath,
blood drooling from it's beak.

There was a loud thud. I looked up to see two black shapes falling from the sky. The library window finiallised it's vibrations subtley. One bird boucned, the other went splat. People turned around to see what was happening, some laughed, some cursed in horror, but everyone kept walking. I approached the scene carefully.

The one that bounced was comically swaying from side to side trying to keep balance. The one that splatted lay in an awefully awkward position, breathing heavily, blood trickling from it's beak. I couldn't keep my eyes off it. The inevitable death that came wasn't gradual. If fact it was quite sudden. It was as if time-space around the mass of feathers, bone, flesh and blood; froze. I paused for a second, and switched my attention to the sole survivor, clearly still dazed beside it's deceased friend.

The people traffic increased.

I picked up the wounded, gently cradling it's soft ripcage. It felt so light, delicate and weak. It struggled pathetically before quickly giving up. I placed it under a bush, away from the mad rush of the footpath. I returned to his fallen conrade, scooped it up, and respectfually lay it infront of it's disorientated buddy.

Groundtakers arrived shortly, and took the survivor into a shoebox to recoperate before release.

I paid my respects and moved on.

Nose Margins

"Noise Margins all...Gorilla!"

I'm afraid this is all I wrote down for my 5pm lecture on Digital Systems.

Acoustic Guitars.
Fake Plastic Trees.
Cherry Blossums.
Fresh Spring Breeze.
Fluffy white clouds.
Fragrant flowers.
My favourite transitional season is comming.

My Very First Roll.

I have decided to shoot in film as a hobby. Although I still think that shooting digital is in all ways safer for special occasions and events.

It was a monday afternoon when I bought my first roll of film from K-mart. ($10:75). An unco-ordinated attempted to mount the film into my dad's Nikon FM caused the film lead to wind inside the canister. So on the Friday afternoon, I bought another roll of film ($10:75), and clumsily, but successfully mounted it. I was happy.

--

Snap shutter click.

My first shot, Stairs at QV next to Bread Top.

I quite like these tiny, family run, crowded coffee shops. The busy casual atmosphere is most pleasing.

At San Churos. Another Latte.

San Churos dough stick. Dark > Milk > White

I love you too Gabby

This is Wantirna at night. Right outside my grandparent's house.

My Lovely Desk of clutter.

Charrlotte.
--

A total of 18 of the 24 shots were taken. 8 shots were publushed. It seems I had destroyed the first 8 frames while mounting it. To conclude: Shooting film is so much harder. I can never seem to get the correct shutter - aperture ratio, and everything is out of focus. Hat's off to Dad. I now have a greater understanding of the skills invovled in shooting manual.

This is also quite an expensive hobby ($15.95)