Source of fantasy, escape and knowledge for the mind, heart and soul.

There’s a thunder in our hearts

Sometimes I just want to post a picture with no words. And sometimes I want to post just a single, striking line with no explanation. But I always think far too much to be able to do that.

The second half of semester 2 starts tomorrow – actually, by now it’s today – and I don’t feel ready at all. I haven’t done a fraction of the things I had wanted to do during this 2-week break – sure unforeseeable circumstances struck up, but I was also lazy. At the moment I also have a sinus and throat infection and dealing with it is just a pain. Not to mention last night we had a scare with the cat being ill and had to take him to the afterhours vet clinic and pay a hefty sum for him to be anesthetised   so they could look down his throat to see whether there’s something stuck or if it’s infected or both. Turns out it’s just infected, and apparently it IS possible the same bacteria plaguing me could have done it to him. Yikes. I only managed to get him home at 3.30am which didn’t help my sleeping pattern at all.

Irrelevantly though, I’ve been wanting to post these two moments of joy:

Left: A photo my mum took of my sister and I jumping on a bridge in Sydney. Looking at it really makes me miss school athletics days where I got to do high jump. I always made the “qualifying” jump but then bunged out and there was always a certain height that my foot didn’t want to get over.
Right: The present that I spent a lot of time thinking about and wrapping for W.’s (sic) 21st, and I put the card in there at the bottom too. I’ve even abbreviated his initials to the bare minimum, so unknowing people can always wonder who my long-time adored is.

My friend Lottie is crazy for the Arctic Monkeys and Alexa Chung, and I just can’t resist posting this, a love note from Alex Turner to Alexa: “My mouth hasn’t shut up about you since you kissed it. The idea that you may kiss it again stuck in my brain, which hasn’t stopped thinking about you since well before any kiss. And now the prospect of those kisses seems to wind me like when you slip on the stairs and one of the steps hits you in the middle of the back. The notion of them continuing for what is traditionally terrifying forever excites me to an unfamiliar degree.” This is the precise reason that I think great lyricists are underrated. I can’t think of a less pretentious and more realistic way of being so romantic in words. He hasn’t used any flamboyant adjectives, simply described and put it in such a way that is so heart-melting. This is also the exact reason why I love men who are good with words. I don’t think I could ever date anyone who tells me every other sentence that he doesn’t understand a word I used.

Something I wrote the other night, simply because I just had to use the word “bilocation”, although it might be a little… misused – I hear that’s called artistic license, haha:

You are
A rare occurance
When you talk
I want to turn you up.

You are
A bilocation
When you’re here
I never have you to myself.

You are
Inside, outside
Everywhere to me.
The places I go
And the people I see
The art I adore
And the songs that I sing:
You are
Too fucking much to me.

New Rules: I’m learning to be laid back about certain things

I can’t stop listening to Kele Okereke’s new album, The Boxer. Being such an avid Bloc Party fan, I’d been very curious as to what Kele’s solo album would sound like. To me it’s like listening to Bloc Party, but with less guitar and grunt, more dancey beats, plus the same lyrical ingenuity that I will quote over and over (ref to title of blog!).

Guilty indulgences aside, the thing that I never feel guilt for splurging copious amounts of money on = books. I’m sure that women the world over will know exactly what I’m on about when I describe the slow, creeping guilt that emerges after a materialistic purchase. Clothing, shoes, magazines, even if it was chocolate, or just some other silly little thing that you weren’t quite completely in love with, and definitely didn’t need. But that feeling never occurs when I buy books. I once bought a $64 hardback adventure novel, just because I couldn’t wait for the library system to offer me the next installment penned by Matthew Reilly – especially after an excruciating cliff hanger! Luckily my special lady-friend works at the local bookstore and helps me out with her 30% staff discounts – which also came in handy yesterday when I decided to buy a $95 book on Jazz: A history of America’s Music. What also helps is that, when I buy books, often my parents will offer to pay for them, if they are present; as well as the fact that I simply don’t need to justify any book purchases – but can easily do so. I mean, surely it’s a given that since I’m spending my bachelor’s degree on learning jazz performance that surely I need to become thoroughly familiar with the ins-and-outs of its history and development through the ages. Not to mention, this semester I also have a compulsory jazz history paper anyway.

Specifics aside, I’m sure many people can relate to the self-righteously intellectual feeling that comes with buying a book. It feels like it adds to me and the growth of my mind as a whole. Sure, you have to read it first, but buying a book generally guarantees that no matter how long I put it off for, eventually I will read it. The same can’t be said for books that I get out from the library: I have a tendency to get too greedy at the library (come on, it’s free), as well as judge a book by it’s cover. Also, the best and most popular books always seem to be unavailable at the library anyway, so unless I’d requested a book, it’s never what I’d really like to read.

Does anyone else do this? Or feel like this too?

I really need to go run some scales on the double bass now because semester two is starting on Monday (impending blisters in the week, I just know it). It’s sad that class hasn’t even started yet and already I am longing for the summer holidays in November already!

Four random photos that all somehow have one thing in common (guesses?):


David’s mini birthday I made him and took along to his farewell party.

The cake again, under a very erotic looking red light. The cool shade that goes with it wasn’t in sight. + Having lunch at the Sydney waterfront: view behind me reflected off the back of a Canon 50d.

The new lights I bought in Sydney and fiiiinally put up in my room. And my beloved poster.

Common thread amongst the photos: all taken by the family buddy, Mr Canon IXUS950IS.

A boy in the bush is worth two in the hand, there’s more to life you know

It’s like nothing much has happened, but so much as. I can’t figure out why. I’m emotionally, intellectually, physically pulled in opposing directions.

These pics were snapped on my friend David’s macbook. Some are old, some were from yesterday. That thing is gorgeous. And his new iphone pet… if anyone commits a robbery at his house I’m sure it won’t be hard to find the culprit…

I bused into town to find David at the university and we hung out all day. I’ve been hiding in my room for the past two weeks since study leave started, and I no longer know what day it is, nor can I tell day apart from the night. Went to both of my exams this week on 2 hours of sleep – history went shockingly, I got really unlucky with the questions – but economics was better that I could’ve hoped for given how much i despise and regret taking it… as well as my lack of studying. Just going to brace myself and hope for the best, it’s too late now. Luckily I don’t need to sit any exams for university entrance; in fact I sometimes regret not having dropped out thus not having to fork out for exam costs. AS exams are $65 and A levels are $95 a pop! Not to mention NCEA was $75… it wasn’t pleasant. All the less so when my parents joked that I should’ve indeed dropped out and just gone on a nice long holiday. Yikes.

At the moment I just want the next three weeks to be over. Monday is my uni audition for jazz, then I have my remaining exams – after which I will definitely be living it up. A friend and I have decided we’re going to embark on a trip to Japan and Taiwan together. He’s studied Japanese for five years, and despite my mother, I still can’t speak it for yonks. We’re looking forward to the hilarity of when Japanese people start talking to me, but it’s the white boy that understands, translates, then replies! I’ve decided that will be one of the things I seek to achieve this summer: try and learn some Japanese. I know the reaaally bare-boned basics and I can guess every other word, but that’s about it.

Was talking about tides of people the other day. About how we always seem to have a ‘drought’, only to next be bombarded with too many options the next thing you know. So many people I know right now are "looking for someone", wanting to be in a relationship. I really don’t understand that. Why do 18-20 year olds want to be ‘on the prowl’? It’s not like we’re approaching our later 20s, approaching 30s that life cycles and society tells us we "need someone". I understand loneliness, and trust me I hate it too, but the entire "relationship" thing sends me running. It’s so hard… how do you strike a balance with having fun, but not getting too carried away? Some chemistry and connections you just cannot deny – but so what?

What am I entitled to?

I’m a ridiculously multi-faceted person, and my personality is split in so many ways I often get asked "where did [the other] Amanda go?" I’m young and I’m allowed to get out and be who I want, do what I like, but I don’t want to be a heartbreaker. Metronomy’s "Heartbreaker" and "A Thing For You" remind me of things that go flying around me often. A juxtaposing state but it somehow works. There always seems to be some kind of drama. Something stirring. I seem unable to remain still, leave the waters alone. It’s as if I’d be bored or boring without it. It’s ironic, the people I’m most interested in are the ones who hold no interest for me. This is, on all levels. Not just in a romanticised point of view, but even just as people. I feel like I want to befriend the people who seem to have only some thin common thread with me – nothing at all in my comfort zone… but it keeps them interesting?

I want to extend my horizons, I will not be stuck here forever.

Exotic,
you’re chaotic,
his bassic distraction all night.
What are you?
The intimate
ambiguous delight.

Neurotic,
your melodic
words are attractive(a trap to)
his soul(sole)
Emotion; make me the blame.

I am trying to be heroic in an age of modernity

Somewhere amidst my current state of hayfeverish nose-blowing and nose-bleeding, I’ve been having a pretty reckless week. Kicking off Monday morning with Stage Band practise instead of hockey training for a change, we were hyped to attend the KBB Music Festival in town this week – it’s my 5th, and last.

All term I’ve been resentful towards school and agreeing with fellow cynical 7th formers who say that they “won’t be missing” college – and to a large extent, I now realise that I haven’t been completely lying. Maybe it’s because it’s midnight and I tend to get quite wordy and analytical at this time of day (or night, should I say… but it’s day to me, but more on that later), but I suddenly realise that the only place I will truly miss is probably the music department at school. As much grief, frustration and angry tears it has brought me in the past half a decade (good god, did I just say half a decade?!), it’s the one place outside my bedroom that I have spent the most collective time at. Trust me, I wish I was exaggerating when I say that, this Monday alone, I spent 6 hours at music at school: that’s two hours more than I had slept the night before.

For the first time in 4 years I changed my stage band attire – our uniform is basically black, black, and more black, with a gold and maroon waistcoat, but for once I didn’t wear jeans and wore a skirt instead. Mr. Bolley asked where my blazer was from because he thought it was part of some uniform, but I had just decided to wear it instead of the hoodies that everyone else had worn into town for KBB since it suited better (below, right… it looks quite posey, but truth be told I wasn’t looking at the camera because I’d just woken up from the long car ride home). The other picture is of an outfit I put together at the last minute a couple of weeks ago for a gig I photographed. It’s not a very “outfit picture” though, and I don’t even have my long socks and boots on, but I thought I’d just mention that the shirt I’m wearing is actually a dress! Although ironically, I’ve ever worn it out as a dress yet, but I think it looks better like this. You can’t see it in the picture, but I had to tie a black ribbon making the straps meet in the middle, since it was a low back, and very loose, low cut dress.

I’m still quite sketchy on their decision to relocate the festival at the Aotea Centre instead of at the Auckland Town Hall this year; in fact I have yet to find out as to why they did that at all, but the acoustics in the Aotea Centre simply pales in comparison to the Town Hall. The only upside I can think of, is that all the schools have much more storage space for instruments, cases and other gear – but for two days in a row now we’ve been assigned to level 5, which is a bitch of a tramp up the stairs with a bass case/amplifier! We were sneaky for Concert Band today and managed to dodge the event co-ordinators and snag rides upstairs in the lift, yay!

So I mentioned before that I get quite wordy during the late hours, on Sunday night (the reason I slept so little), I used my inspiration to churn out lyrical words as a means of procrastinating from finishing an English assignment. I wrote quite a fair bit, but here are just some snippets; none of them are titled (yet), and I find that phrasing/emjambment/punctuation seems to be a big aspect of things I write. If I ever put music to them, though, there are some lines/words that I will definitely change and rephrase:

The last thing I wrote that night, my personal highlight:
The navy curtains disguise the time of day
Or night, we are uncertain,
It’s been so long since we left.
A room once so small and empty
The hollowness of a house, not home,How did things change the tone?
Candles won’t bring us romance,
But the closed white door a privacy
And in here, a silent intimacy.

This is only the second half, I’ve omitted the first part because in hindsight, it really sucks:
I will leave because you say
so, I will leave
Not of my own accord.
I will leave because you say,
So I will leave.

I’m not too sure where this came from, it was mostly spurned from the first couple of lines:Whatever happened to indifference?
Your sun-stained chest
Makes me cringe that you
Want her berry-kissed lips on you.
Since when could I not keep
A small cup of coffee steady
It would be easier than easy
To shed this on her lap.

What happened to “go with the flow”?
Now I’m looking up maps for directions
It’d be easier if I knew where we were heading
But what a bore that’d be.
And if my only desire is to
Fulfill your desire too
How my paltry needs
Will kill the “me and you”.

A laugh and a metaphor

My friend showed me this off failblog, it was just so funny I couldn’t not post it –>

I don’t have anything of interest to record other than the following:

1/ I’m going to Clap Clap Riot in town on Friday night, and I will be photographing for Cheese on Toast – super excited.

2/ Very likely also that I will be seeing the Handsome Furs later this month.

3/ I can’t believe I’ve just renewed my domain for the… 3rd time? So that’s like, Happy 4th Birthday (soon) to StaticImage.net.

4/ Lastly, I just wrote this – any guesses what it’s about? Someone thought it was a vibrator, before I wrote the 3rd part… it’s not, haha.

Steel-bodied, so velvet,
In your hands, you see through
t’Wind the time, start at centre,
Can you, can you, develop her?

Hardened core, so ice cold,
Turn her on, let light in
Uncap the blinds, turn the ring,
Can you, un-blur everything?

Smooth-cased, so focused,
Snap in place, the view you see
Construe, the picture you prefer,
Can you, can you, capture her?

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