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.