I can’t hold my breath so long, When you pass me by without a sound. You got something more to give, To girls who never thought they’d love, Love

I’m trying to pick out five photos for a photo exhibition and I’m finding it absolutely impossible! In the meantime, I stumbled upon these photos whilst trawling through my folders and folders full of photos. This is how us sisters roll.

How to devour a cupcake (from Disneyland):



Whilst I’m at it, here’s another one.

How to be a good girlfriend:
1. Accompany your boy to his friend’s birthday party. Dress well, so that you complement one another. And look good. Very good.
2. Proceed to drink as much beer as socially acceptable in terms of sobriety and number of allocated bathroom trips – after all, he’s sacrificed himself as sober driver so someone can drink!
3. The next morning, cook him a wholesome breakfast.
4. Be awesome and be genuinely interested in sports – not merely fake it.
5. Drive him to his football match. Be even more awesome and date someone with a decent shirt number. In this case, his #7 is much easier to spot and understand, as opposed to my #33.
6. Be a good spectator and always know what’s going on. It also helps to play the same position (perhaps in a similar sport) so as to understand the lines he runs and calls he makes. This also helps with being empathetic over frustrations. Maybe so empathetic that you’re the one wanting to yell “STRAIGHT/LEFT/LINE!” more than he does.
7. Be an even better spectator and throw him a water bottle whenever he looks like he needs it. Be careful to avoid getting whacked on the head with it as it comes flying back to you at an awkward angle with the sun in your eyes.
8. In the instance that he shall then misplace his wallet (apparently down the side of your car seat), lend him money at the postal office. Even if it means the eftpos machine at the post office hates your card and rejects it, forcing you to employ the use of an ATM machine on the other side of the mall.
9. Drive him back to yours and provide a dinner of tacos and beer.

See, I never knew I was such a nice person. I usually get annoyed and angry at myself, for being annoyed and angry with other people; but it turns out that I’m not always such a bitter person. Although I might have to admit that finally being done with the first half of semester one may have had something to do with my elated mood yesterday, because now it’s rather worn off and I just want to groan and sigh at the pile of stuff I have to deal with in the 2-week Easter break.

I only had my point and shoot lazily in my pocket, so this photo isn’t anywhere near as exciting as the boy’s dad’s epic action shots, but this was yesterday for me:

And today… has been a different story altogether. I found some more photos of things I had immortalised, so maybe I’ll post them later. For now I’m just going to wallow in self-(something) and try to pick out a series of photos to exhibit.

We parked too close to the water and watched the Seven Swans, Who cares? Who’s right, we mis-gambled pros and cons

Between the 6th and 10th of February, I single-handedly drove more than 1700km on our road trip, circumnavigating much of the North Island.

There was too much drama in merely resizing the 69 photos I picked out for this post, let alone if I were to recount the trip in descriptive detail. We drove from Auckland to Gisborne, then from Gisborne to Wellington – where we saw Sufjan Stevens at the Opera House – and then back to Auckland, continuing further north up to the Whangaparaoa peninsula where we camped for our final night. We sang-along, played I-spy (with my English Rose/Asian eyes), played 20 questions, pulled over at random beaches and lakes, fed ourselves too much, complained about the heat, laughed, cried, fought, read, waited, and waited, and most of all, watched in awe as Sufjan Stevens put on the greatest show I’ve ever been to thus far in my life. I don’t think any concert this year will top his show. I was gutted that he didn’t play my favourite song of his (“To Be Alone With You”) in Wellington, but had played it in Auckland, especially after we drove such a long way – but I’m certain that the Welly gig trumped that of Auckland’s, the night prior. Plus, he played more songs in Wellington than in Auckland. I was afraid that the house was going to come down, after such a raucous demand for an encore, but all was worth the while when he resumed onstage. I feel a bit smugly apologetic to the inexperienced concert-goers who left before the house lights came on, before the encore, before the show was over!

I have to admit, I wasn’t allowed to take any photos at the show, so everything below from the concert are actually contraband – although I did nicely obey and cease to photograph after personally being told off. The one major downside to that is, moments after having been told off, the most picture-perfect moment presented itself, and made me want to cry. I wanted to cry because of how amazing he was, how amazing the show had been, and how I was distraught I couldn’t photographically record the single moment in which all of this was epitomised. When Sufjan got back onstage for his encore and sat at the piano on the very destroyed stage that was covered in props, scattered confetti and leftover balloons, the angle at which he sat, the angle at which the piano was placed in relation to the angle my seat was at… the precise lighting and the way it was cast onto him… everything about that moment was about the most photogenic thing I had ever seen. And in all of irony, in my bag by my feet was my forbidden camera. Furthermore, in my car that was parked a $12 taxi-ride away in Newtown, sat my longer lens. Nonetheless, I felt myself hold that breath longer than any other during the show. I still can’t decide if, when I want to cry thinking about the Sufjan Stevens concert, it’s because of the sheer amazement and awe he brought upon me onstage that night, or because of the missed photo opportunity, or because he didn’t play my favourite song. Maybe it was all three. But maybe the combination of all these things all contributed to making the evening even more bittersweet.

Anyway, here are some photos from the roadtrip. The first beach pictured is a place I would love to revisit:

The random beach we stopped at on our way to Gisborne. First heat attack of the day, once we left the comforts of air con that was courtesy of mum’s Toyota!

Sunset at the beach in Gisborne.

We parked too closed to the water and watched the Seven Swans. Somewhere between Gisborne and Wellington.

Got a bit scared it might come looking for food, so promptly shut the car door after this was taken.

Monsoon Poon in Wellington for dinner.

Good old Wellywood.

Some sculpture thing taking place near the waterfront.

Self.

There was a set of nice poetry in the City Gallery that I enjoyed the most.

I always seem more preoccupied with the way a gallery looks rather than what’s in half of it…

Iconic.

Art work outside Te Papa.

View from inside Te Papa.

The restaurant we returned to on the second night, since we couldn’t get a seat previously.

Amazing dinner. That garlic butter on the steak, on the hash brown with the coleslaw, oh my godddddd.

Sufjan Stevens had an 11-piece band, with screens that were brought down or risen off the stage, depending on the projection display for each song. They were also all wearing florescent gaffer tape!

Balloons were released at the end, before the encore.

I never even knew that we had some kind of Army Museum.

Sunset at Shakespear Regional Park.

The morning after.

The light within you shines like a diamond mine, like an unarmed walrus. Steer on to freedom… Open all the boxes. Open all the boxes.

Pictures speak louder than words, so this post is purely dedicated to a compilation of 50 photos that my mother, sister and I have taken over the past three days.

We took a trip up north to Paihia in the Bay of Islands with some friends, and had an absolute blast, staying at a house right on the waterfront which had spectacular views. I can’t believe that I personally didn’t take any more photos (thus compiling mum and Liv’s photos too, because we all lounged around and did some things together, but some things apart), but it just goes to show how much fun in the sun and relaxing downtime I’ve been having! We swam (out to a post, twice), sunbathed, played poker, had Boston Legal marathons, sang along to songs in the car, drank beer, took bubble baths and ate far, far too much:

There was a huge cruise ship not too far offshore.

Reflected view from my bedroom window, with Liv in the corner.

View from the house.

Interior.

Lottie on our bed with the ranch slider wide open, basking in the view and breeze.

From the outside.

Super Liquor was right across the road! But we didn’t need it, haha.

Mum took this from across the road in the house, when we were heading out to the beach.

Me and my new American flag towel.

Beach!

I didn’t know my sister had taken this until I scoured through her memory card. What a pervert.

Lo and I. I know, I keep calling her a variation of things, but in my head she is a mix between Charlotte, Char, Lottie, and ultimately Lo from “Charlo” (which is what I type into “recipients” when I txt her).

My feeet.

Second floor view from the house.

Massive kitchen!

Japanese noodles.

Lottie wanting to nick off with my blanket and replacing our cat as the ginger tucked in my blanket whilst on holiday. Adorabubbly-cute, haha.

My risotto in progress.

Final product = risotto with mushroom, onions and chicken. My dinner and everyone else’s late night supper… I accidentally took a reeeaaally long nap, you see.

Meal complete with a CC & Dry, of course.

Mum and her Japanese friends all gave my risotto rave reviews, yay!

Lounge.

The house.

These sunset photos were taken by my mum – when I look at her photos, I can really see where she has inadvertently influenced me in style and composition over the years, without really ever properly “teaching” me anything specifically. She never told me how to compose my photos or how to take them in the first place because she didn’t want to restrict my view… but I guess some things just rub off over time, haha. But I’m glad it did.

In a way, I’m relieved I missed out on taking a drive out with mum and her friends to see the sunset, otherwise I would’ve had an internal struggle with my obsession to photograph everything, versus just taking life in through my eyes, not lens.

The spa that we had for a bath.

Lo blowing some bubble love my way.

Once we turned the jets on, the bubbles boiled over like crazy!

View from the house.

We stopped over at Matakana on the way home so that I could quench my cravings for the delicious ice cream and sorbet there. That, and we needed the girls’ room.

Blueberry sorbet and Chocolate ice cream. I LOVE CHOCOLATE ICE CREAM. It’s my top flavour of choice, I get it 99% of the time – but I knew the sorbet there was amazing so I couldn’t miss out… The girl at the store accidentally gave me blueberry ice cream instead of sorbet at first, so that’s what that glob of purple is, in between the two scoops.

I recommend their ice cream and sorbet, but I fucking hate their stupid queuing/ordering system and their customer service isn’t too hot either. That, and I was super glad the girl with short hair who kept touching her hair whilst scooping ice creams didn’t scoop my ice cream.

KILLER EELS?!?!!!!

The odd tree and the car parked in front of us.

Liv took these as we were crossing the harbour bridge, heading home.

There’s me driving with my left hand and red nails.

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And a young man’s gonna make mistakes, til he hits the brakes

“By the time a person has achieved years adequate for choosing a direction, the die is cast and the moment has long since passed which determined the future.” – Zelda Fitzgerald

I think it’s safe to say that I certainly do not live my life in a very safe manner. Wait, that sentence just sounded retarded. But it makes perfect literal sense in terms of what I’m saying. It’s true – I take a lot of risks, some calculated, but more often than not, I ignore such “calculations” and stick with what I want to do/think I should do/think I can get away with. The latter which sounds absolutely terrible, although thus far I have turned out quite “alright”. Point is, I wholeheartedly agree with the above quote, and I am living my life and making my “big decisions” as I see fit – not in the most “sensible” and “safe” manner at all. Instead, doing what I think will lead to where I’d like to be. I think that if I can’t dream big and try to fly towards such dreams up in the clouds at age 19, then there will be no more-appropriate time to do so.

I’m beyond grateful and appreciative towards my parents’ encouragement and support of me, even in times when they disagree with my decisions; I know there are many, many parents out there who simply do not provide such freedom and constant support towards their children. I’ve noticed (and mum’s also told me) that people are either in positive awe of how brilliant it is, or in absolute shock and horror towards my parents with regards to the fact that my sister and I pursue such “unconventional” pathways – and all with their full backing and support! Other parents that my family knows have either high-5’d us for sticking to our guns and going for it, or have taken it upon themselves to try and convince me that music is a stupid course of study that will lead to nowhere, and no career. They’d list all the reasons why I should study law or whatever instead (this is back at high school when I hadn’t decided on my university degree yet), and how I should just keep music as a hobby, etc. It’s as if the decision is so fucking obvious that only an outright idiot would choose otherwise. Even though I am always polite and try to deflect and then divert such conversations, it always maddens me, right to the very core. I just want to say who the hell do you think you are?! Don’t treat me like a fucking idiot; you say that as if I hadn’t thought of all of the above already, etc. Anyway, I don’t even know how that train of thought got here, because then I got distracted and have been reading something completely irrelevant for the past half an hour. Point is, I’m glad I still have a lot of things that I look forward to, because of the path I’ve chosen. Rather than having chosen one which I dread to face the end of.

Yesterday, with just a towel-bag of essentials, I set off for a very long drive out to a friend’s family house, south-west of mine. The weather hovered from very cloudy, sunny, and then cloudy, spitting rain, sunny, then back to the clouds and eventually decent rainfall. Photographically equipped with only a Canon point-and-shoot in the back pocket of my denim cut-offs, I didn’t take that many photos. The countryside experience is more about the intertwined smell of freshness, cow dung and grass in the air, the bugs that crawl on you, and the thorns, sand and mud on your feet. All in all it made for an interesting day – most certainly a very adventurous drive as I wasn’t quite sure where I was going to end up – with great company, great conversation, great food and great fun. In other words, a bloody great day:

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I could do it all again

I don’t think anyone else in the world could possibly make the following statement that I’m about to make: “In the past 12 hours I have been to: Malibu beach, the Getty Centre for sunset and then to a Lakers vs. Bulls game”.

Spent about 3-4 hours in total driving today, especially during peak hour traffic from the Gettys Centre to the Staples Centre. Dammit, I know here in America they spell it as “center” but I just can’t do that without forcing myself to. On the way back to Malibu from the Staples Centre, a bunch of cop cars closed down a huge section of the Pacific Coast Highway, causing me and all the other confused drivers to take a huuuuge detour around the Malibu hills, down Sunset Blvd in a huuuge circuit. They did it in the most unconventional (aka inefficient, confusing and STUPID) way ever – instead of just parking and blocking the road with their lights on like the police usually do, they decided to turn their lights on and start driving in a zigzag pattern down the PCH, confusing the hell out of us all.

Anyway, I’m too tired to recount my whole day now. I took a roll and a half of black and white film as well, but here are just a handful of digital shots from my epic 12 hours today:

Went to the beach at Malibu – froze our butts off.

California number plate! The car I’ve been driving around.

Obligatory jumping photo. Wish I could fly. It was so windy it sure felt like I almost could.

At the colony in Malibu. CUPCAKES.

Red Velvet was mine, and Chocolate Snowball was Liv’s. Weird iced tea I had with my macchiato.

Fancy schmancy.

If my life’s work ever got analysed, this would be the “epitome” of “me”: monochromatic, shadows, frames, self. All it lacks is reflection.

At Getty Centre.

Sunset. Reflection. Frame. How typically-Amanda of me.

More reflections.

Post-dusk view.

Tram.

STAPLES CENTER!!! There, I spelt it the American way.

Proof!!!

Lamar played amazingly tonight. Top scorer for Lakers. Sorry Kobe.

JACK! I didn’t have my long lens with me so had to wait til he got on screen to get a better shot.

Crowd goes mad.

Final score.