The youth is starting to change, Are you starting to change? Are you? Together

Instead of adhering to the tradition of drinking at a pub on St. Patrick’s Day, I went and saw MGMT. In fact, I think it’s stupid that such a large portion of this country’s population makes St. Patty’s Day such a huge deal and an excuse to all go out and get drunk. Especially those that are nowhere near Irish. Why?! Why do they need the excuse? We all know everyone does it anyway, so why bother with the excuse, why the hype? It’s annoying on an annual basis. If you really wanted to go out and drink, wouldn’t you just do it anyway?

I must say, I feel so disabled without a press pass and the ability to take my dslr with me.

These were taken on our new point and shoot – the Canon IXUS 300 HS. It’s a cute little thing, but just so darn frustrating not having complete control over what I was doing, especially with the focus and all, grrrr. However, I’m actually really impressed with the quality – especially sound quality! – of the videos that I took. Unfortunately, I’m really really low on bandwidth so can’t upload any yet.

So here are the below-my-usual-standard photos, and now I know what it feels like to be in the audience with a point-and-shoot like everybody else:

Something out of the ordinary happened to me earlier today: I felt a tinge of excitement for the MGMT concert.  I say that because I usually feel none or little sense of excitement for a concert or event, I guess largely because I don’t want to build up any huge expectations in anticipation. Just in case things don’t turn out the way I’d like. What a pessimist I am. I’ve been known to come off as blasé about these things, which has pissed people off, in the cases where I had a press pass.

See, that’s the thing about me… I can’t live with, and I can’t live without. With a press pass, the gig becomes a job. And with a job, comes responsibility. Although I love every moment and flash of stage lights of it, I simply cannot relax until I get home and see how the photos have turned out. Yet, doing so gives me such a great satisfation. Because the challenge posed by concert photography is just so enticing to me, the satisfaction is incomparable. It’s like scoring a goal in hockey or football (where scores tend to stay low), as opposed to scoring points in basketball (where there is constant progress on the scoreboard). Actually, often if not all of the time, I already know how good of a set of photos I’ve gotten, and how big the set is, before I’ve even gone home and looked at my photos. In the split second just as the shutter closes and releases, I  just know how the photo will turn out. I’m sure most other people also get this sensation, in whatever fields they are skilled and comfortable with.

But on the flip side, I thoroughly love going to a concert completely carefree. No bag, ever. Crammed right up centre front, best views, best squish, etc… which I’ve done several times even when I had a photographic assignment, but it’s just not quite the same. The downside to giving up concert photography is that – as I discovered tonight, since I can’t remember the last time, if ever, that I went to the Powerstation without a press pass – I spend the entire evening going “If only I had my camera right now…” and I would see all these amazing things and angles that I wish I could capture.

For me, it seems to be about the thrill of the chase.

///

The setting felt familiar, like revisiting
an Old Memory.
I tried my best to not cast any visions of
how I want the evening to turn
but somehow it feels like it’s
Happened all before anyway.
The Powerstation, with the projected buzz
and pixelated technicolour;
the stage format
the way VanWyngarden and Goldwasser stood,
sang and played
Reminded me of Avey Tare, Panda Bear and
Geologist. Those lads and the
Space in their music.

The space left in my pounding head and
racing mind full of…
something indescribeable, but such spacious
thought-provoking feelings.

Tonight, MGMT made me relive
a more youthful, worrisome and carefree
Time of my life.
and it’s funny, in all facets of the word
because
I feel exaxtly the same
and care about the same things
All over again.

“The youth is starting to change”.

In the sun she dances, To silent music-songs… That are spun of gold, Somewhere in her own little head

It’s funny how even in this day and age with instant access to ways of “contact” with people, I still find it really hard to maintain a stream of steady contact with a lot of people that mean a great deal to me. For various reasons, both my sister and father live overseas, as well as numerous close friends. Worse yet, I can hardly find the time for good friends that live barely ten minutes away from my house! The balance I’ve tried to strike over the years, is the odd hours-long phone or skype conversation with my dad, and as of last year, my sister also. But lately, I’ve found that I’m most satisfied through the means of writing lengthy letters by hand and posting them; and in return, receiving either the odd (if I’m lucky) letter, or a great postcard that’s filled to the brim with travel anecdotes and things that they thought I’d enjoy and reminded them of me, so far away.

Recently, my friend (with whom I’ve traveled to Japan and Taiwan last year) visited Hong Kong and China, and concocted a brilliant way of sending me postcards: he made six of them into a series, which had drawings on either side that fit together like a little jigsaw, then labeled and sent them in numerical order. Funnily enough, I didn’t get them all in the correct order, but it was fun to wait around for the collection to be completed!

Just today, I came home from uni to a postcard from Guangzhou that dad had sent me. Although it wasn’t nearly as creative as Joel’s Guangzhou postcard, this little piece of cardboard with a generic cityscape photo made my afternoon. It’s funny how much more intimate seeing someone’s handwriting is, as opposed to merely an email. Often times I’ll send long, ranting, frustrated, angry, ecstatic or just generally overwhelming and brain-scattered emails to my ‘grrrrlfraaaan’ in Seattle or my ol’ buddy Takuma at Tulane, but when I really have something to say that’s worth taking the time for, I’ll be putting black ink to white paper. The only trouble for them is deciphering my handwriting beyond the “Dear ______”, because my handwriting – although often deemed as artistic/awesome/copy-worthy by onlookers – is a shocker to try and read.

Anyway, I really ought to finish this long overdue letter to my sister. Even though I was just saying to mum earlier about how much smaller the house seems when she came back home for Christmas (and will be when she’s back for her summer), and how the last piece of any delicious food always goes missing out of the fridge… I miss her. A lot.

Here’s some photos from earlier today. The first two are of my ferry trip into uni. I’d been meaning for ages to take photos of the city from the ferry when leaving uni, but the ferry situ today didn’t warrant for that. Plus, I’m really unhappy with these two photos because I literally had to guess and “shoot from the hip” as it’s our point and shoot camera, which is broken and I literally can’t see what I’m photographing on the screen and the manual viewfinder may as well not even exist! But it was such a lovely day I just had to post them anyway:

The marina at which parking is now a nightmare. I got dropped off and picked up today, phew.

I must say, I’m proud of my very steady guesswork… the horizon’s not that lopsided haha.

Rangitoto Island, the iconic view you get in Auckland.

See where I had double-iced half the cupcakes? I learnt my lesson… don’t ice them when they’re hot out of the oven, icing tends to melt and drip away. Although it’s never happened before, but I guess I used a different recipe.

Mum’s delicious banana cake.

They were meant to be red velvet cupcakes, but I ran out of red food colouring, so the inside colour is a bit off. Luckily you can’t see here, haha.

Tomorrow morning, two lovely people will wake up to my cupcakes which I’ve hidden in eccentric places rather than on their doorstep. This is what happens when I do late-night baking and then think “oh wouldn’t it be sweet if I…”, combined with the mentality of think of all that buttery goodness I want to share with everybody else’s hips.

Boy and girl go down, To the place by the water. Creeping into the afternoon, Young aren’t so young – They’re getting restless

I hope that the nuclear leakage business in Japan due to the earthquake/tsunami doesn’t worsen; and I’m definitely relieved that all our family/friend ties there are all safe and sound as far as we know. I don’t really have the heart to blog about such things, it’s all a bit close to home, considering I was in Tokyo just 12 months ago. Also, being Taiwanese with strong Japanese ties, we hop over there for holidays all the time – like how Kiwis and Aussies holiday on either side of the ditch.

Today started like every other day – despite being a Saturday, I was supposed to wake at a certain time, but of course I ignored my alarm clock and snoozed and snoozed and snooozed. So when I finally, rather abruptly woke up completely, I once again had that huge wave of panic, oh no, what’s the time – how far have I overslept?! Luckily all was well and the boy had txted telling me to take my time. It was only quarter past nine.

We made the long drive out to Takapuna to the Department Store where he bought a very nice Topman blazer and shirt, whilst I pranced around like the distracted mind that I am, touching, smelling, feeling every fabric and fragrance I could get my hands on. I ended up with a nice loot myself (I’ll get to that later, below) and after a bit of “so where are we actually going?”, we managed to find the lovely waterfront cafe that my special lady friend* had taken me for my birthday last year. The single scoop ice cream would have more than sufficed for my taste buds and waistline, but I have an inability to pass up chocolate ice cream (because it’s always soooo good and satisfying!) , so I asked for a scoop of berry sorbet on top of that. The boy certainly didn’t complain nor fake chivalrous refusal at all, every time I offered up some of my ice cream to go with his mango sorbet, haha.

Polaroid taken at the beach. I couldn’t be bothered scanning it in, so took a digital photo of it instead.

So I know we weren’t technically supposed to be out at the beach today, but luckily everything’s fine on the NZ shores and we enjoyed a nice spot of sun by the sea, with views of such clear seawater that it was hard to imagine what’s happening both north and south of us. My mind’s been churning at high gears lately, and it didn’t help that yesterday I skipped a 3-hour percussion workshop to go home on an earlier ferry, and ended up tagging along to the boy’s 4th year Environmental Law lecture. I ended up scribbling down three full pages worth of… well heck I don’t really know nor remember… thoughts of some (definitely illegible and sporadic) description? I know he was curious as to what my mad writing speed recorded in black ink, but even I don’t remember by the second it’s made contact with paper. I have a tendency to do that – write like a mad woman and forget. Forget until I come back at some much later point where I’m calmer, and try and see my previous thoughts through fresher eyes. Unfortunately it’s not that effective in clearing my mind at all, but at least I feel like I’ve written it somewhere as a record that I can refer to and remember later.

On the topic of writing in notebooks, today we checked yet another Paper Plus to see if my favourite notebooks-in-which-to-write-lyrics-poetry-angry-stuff-anything-fake-diary-thingy was still being stocked, and was disappointed to find that it wasn’t. A peek in Borders reminded me of how much I enjoyed scribbling in a pocket soft cover Moleskine during my Californian trip, so I contemplated the larger version in a hardcover… but at $42, we were just not meant to be. $42!!! I stood there thinking perhaps, yes, the collection of my thoughts and creative streaks combined is worth far more than that monetary value, but $42 is just ridiculous for the torture that it will no doubt endure.

This led to an afternoon of browsing all the various Moleskine notebooks online and eventually ordering 3 products off BookDepository.co.uk. I know, I know, I’ve JUST endorsed them in my last blog post, but considering I just ordered the exact same notebook for the pound equivalent of $21.94NZD, I just can’t help mentioning it again. I just hope it arrives ruddy soon, because after a quick google search, I found out that the Warehouse Stationery stocks the particular line of spiral bound hardcover notebooks that I’ve been using since I was 16. Yikes, that’s just 2 months short of being 4 years. I really, really don’t want to turn 20. Don’t want to cease being a teenager. A lot of people have said I’ll get over it, and pointed out how it makes no difference, etc – but it hasn’t changed the way I feel about my age. I’m scared of growing older – and I’m only 19! Imagine me in a few years’ time, oh my god!

 

Anyway, back onto the topic of retail therapy indulgence, I walked out of the Department Store with the above make up: lipstick in a “Beguiled” shade, and nail polish in “Airplane”. This is the darkest shade of lipstick that I now own, and I like that it matches my dark cherry shade of OPI nail polish. I don’t know what’s come over me in the past year and a bit. Ever since buying my very first lipstick (a very bold, bright red by Shiseido) for my 7th form ball, my lipstick collection has slowly but surely been expanding. Due to my heavy partying and drunken dancing with some of these babies, though, there’s been a few casualties in the form of a lipstick snapping (Chanel, I wanted to cry, but managed to re-attach it thanks to googling how), some damage done by the lid because a stick wasn’t wound down far enough (Shiseido, sad to say), and one lipstick that I was really mad at myself for losing (aka forgetting on the couch in the hostel) in San Francisco – that one was a (Maquillage x Alexander Wang). I think at this rate I may as well do a lipstick post. Some people have asked me about my makeup before (like that old jewellery post I did), so maaaaybe.

Bargain of the day was an A&F t-shirt in khaki green that I scored for $10, whilst the splurge of the day goes to my Something Else sweater from their new Winter 2011 collection. Apparently it’s only been out a week, and already the one I picked up was the last one on the rack! It was on the expensive side of things, but it’s pretty much what I’ve been looking for since last winter, so I’m over the moon about it regardless. Possible photos soon.

Since I seem to have started a trend of once again posting up my more lyrical/poetic writings in blog posts, here’s one from a few nights ago when I had trouble sleeping at 2.11am:

I’ve been everywhere,
Seen everything
But you’re the only
who stirs jealousy.

We’re living in my bed,
Fucking in my head
The heat’s too much,
Still, I want your touch.

Summer’s been a battleground
Philandering through too many rounds.
But the leaves will fall
We’ll call it  a draw.

Tell me where our lives will lead.

Last thing: I’ve been listening to this song over and over. Go look this band up – The Hundred in the Hands. We were discussing today how they almost sound like what The XX’s 2nd album should sound like, haha:

*Some of you know/refer to her as the “hot redhead” often featured in photos from late nights out; I’ve mentioned said bestie as either Lottie, Char, Charlo, or Charlotte. I should really be more consistent, but I really do call her all those things.

I snap back, Only for a moment. Mostly, I don’t seem to slow down

I had a really ghastly day today, one of the worst so far this year. It’s only the 2nd week back at uni and already I am so stressed out I think I’m going to snap. It’s largely the inter-people problems that have me baffled the most – it’s such a small department you don’t want to piss anyone off, but what happens when someone really pisses you off?!! I’ll cut myself short there before I start an endless rant about everything which will only send me to bed more wound up.

Instead, I’ll recommend something: BookDepository.co.uk. Not only do they ship for free internationally, but they also do a really sweet deal. I managed to get my Real Book within a week of ordering it, and at only a fraction of the price of what other websites or local bookstores can offer me.

Also, I dug up some very old photos from hockey tournament back in 2008. Here are three lovely view from our hotel room at Surfer’s Paradise on the Gold Coast that I wish I could be brought back to…

And that’s just the river side of things.

I’ve realised that I really need to set down a date for sometime in term break, where I will indulge in something awesome… some sort of exciting event that I can look forward to. I think I would be much more motivated during the next 4 remaining weeks of the first half of semester one, if I could find something to work towards and be really excited and enthusiastic about. Also, I’m seeing MGMT in a week’s time; and I know that it sounds awful, but I don’t have a tendency to work myself up and get excited towards gigs, so I am and will be feeling pretty blasé until it actually happens. Is anything life-changingly awesome happening in 4 weeks’ time?

In the meantime, late night scribbles concocted seconds ago:

We’re missing, messing everything
In the moment
nothing can slow us down.
We’re kissing, caressing every
Moment
nothing will draw a frown.

and in those heartbeats
where we sharply inhale
with half held breath
as if pausing could freeze
perfection forever.

We’re young, for now, only
for a moment
until the sun comes round.
We’re reunited, requited,
and in you
my heart was found.

Hands down – I’m too proud for love, But with eyes shut, It’s you I’m thinking of. Eye to eye, Thigh to Thigh, I let go. And for you I keep my legs apart, And forget about my tainted heart

I’ve been feeling like a bit of a social-grandma since uni has officially started once again, and I’ve been having quiet nights in like a normal person. Maybe I just used to party too hard “when I was younger”, and thus anything short of going out all the time seems like a reclusive thing to do. Being part of the jazz department, my classes and timetable are still not 100% confirmed yet, and it’s an annoying, growing source of stress. Ironic how everyone else loves the “first week back because it’s so relaxed”, yet I knew mine wouldn’t be, and it hasn’t been indeed.

Highlight of my first week back at uni was getting to see Jack DeJohnette on Friday, where he did a public workshop and a Q&A session. I managed to get a photo with him, but it’s very unflattering so I’m not going to post it here, haha.

The week’s main event on the menu, however, was the boy’s 21st birthday party last night. I didn’t take that many photos because I couldn’t be bothered carrying my camera around, so it was abandoned in his room in the company of the dog for hours instead. Although I must admit that most of the following photos were taken whilst I wasn’t on the sober side of things, so nothing is particularly amazing, from a photographic standpoint. But who cares – it was an amazing night for all involved, and that’s what matters more.

Photos from last night:

Inhaling helium is so much
Less
effective when
no longer so
Young

with Party-glazed eyes I scanned the room
and the source of
Contrast
is
Him.

Louder than high,
our voices
the word She
Repeated, repeated. Repeated.
and then again.

and when his speech
Acknowledged me and the
Whole.
Room.
Turned.
my cheeks flushed a pink
more rouge than my new lipstick
which we then shared.

Dim.
the romance of candlelit corners
and ferry-lit seams of the room.

Effortless,
he extinguished the flames which
we are taught, represents the years, his years.
We’re not supposed to count the years
but make the years count –
and yet, who isn’t counting?

/// /// /// // // /// /////

By this point in time I
was no longer aware of much else

and was facing completely the
Wrong way.
But it was funny to see things from
the cramped corner, in which I had to blow out a candle
just to stand in.

It’s obvious just how unusual last night was for me, from the sheer fact that I even forgot to have some cake.

 

 

This picture was just too… uhh yeaaah… to not put up.

I didn’t take either of the following pictures, but it seems that the men of that household are both capable of making me look nice in a photograph. Something I don’t say often. At all.

taken by his dad.

by the boy:
the morning after.

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