the art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.
lose something every day.
accept the fluster of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
the art of losing isn't hard to master.
the practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant to travel.
none of these will bring disaster.
i lost my mother's watch.
and look! my last, or next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
the art of losing isn't hard to master.
i lost two cities, lovely ones.
and, vaster, some realms i owned, two rivers, a continent.
i miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.
- even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture i love) i shan't have lied.
it's evident the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (write it!) like disaster.
One Art.. Elizabeth Bishop.. 1976
40 Staples in the Head.. I
I don't know.. the feeling is rather mixed. I just came as far as this entry of a blog of my deceased ex-school mate and I am already feeling rather pertubed. I stop reading there.. hanging ever knowing the full of what arwah Hasnah was suffering off. A cancer battling life.
al-fatihah.
The mentioning of 40 staples on arwah's head.. auto cruise had me flying back to the time my head was all bandaged. I remembered very well as I opened my eyes in clear conscious out of the anasthesia.. I saw my boy no. 2 with this such worried look and asking me, "mak, kenapa ada darah kat situ?"
My head was fully bandaged. There was blood on the bandage.. at the left part of my ear. I had just underwent a 4 hours surgery removing a growth in my ear. At that point in time.. I had a baby of a month old.. boy no. 6.. the final of all my 6 children was just born then. He was still nursing.. a fully breast fed baby.
The decision for me to undergo the surgery was made rather quick. I was 7 months pregnant when one fine morning as I got up from bed.. I wobbled and everything surrounding me was turning 360 degrees. I felt sick to the stomach.. oh what huge belly at that time. I sat on my bed and everything seemed to be sickening. I was feeling an eerie nausea beyond control. I was never a morning sickness type of pregnant mother but this time it was really really really really really very unbeareable. I was sick to the bone.
The decision to see the doctor was always auto cruise every time I was pregnant for I had a series of medical difficulty during pregnancy.. that was Pre Eclampsia Toexima (PET). I would not want to be on untoward seizure.. not when I was already fully healthy of my final trimester.. fully 7 months pregnancy. I could not figure it out but this was for sure not a PET symptom.
That very same day.. I had a full medical check-up with the OG Specialist that concluded all was well with my pregnancy but I remembered telling that my ear ache. I was immediately sent to the ENT and after a series of this test and that test.. here and there.. every other week.. I was finally set up for my surgery.
Through out that final 2 months of my pregnancy.. I had to go for full medical check-up.. not only to my ante-natal clinic but also my ENT clinic. I had with me then.. 3 worries.. the pregnancy.. the growth in my ear and the unborn child.
hmmmmm
I had since last night tried to read arwah Hasnah's writing of her life battling but somehow or rather I did not make it that far. Arwah's might be gone now but reading what arwah's had written as if "talking" with arwah now.
It brought back to the time where I had that 24 sticthes at the back of my ear lobe.. where I had my skull scraped also. A beautifully done stitches and successful surgery by my doctor.. Professor Lokman Saim of UKM Hospital.
al-fatihah.
The mentioning of 40 staples on arwah's head.. auto cruise had me flying back to the time my head was all bandaged. I remembered very well as I opened my eyes in clear conscious out of the anasthesia.. I saw my boy no. 2 with this such worried look and asking me, "mak, kenapa ada darah kat situ?"
My head was fully bandaged. There was blood on the bandage.. at the left part of my ear. I had just underwent a 4 hours surgery removing a growth in my ear. At that point in time.. I had a baby of a month old.. boy no. 6.. the final of all my 6 children was just born then. He was still nursing.. a fully breast fed baby.
The decision for me to undergo the surgery was made rather quick. I was 7 months pregnant when one fine morning as I got up from bed.. I wobbled and everything surrounding me was turning 360 degrees. I felt sick to the stomach.. oh what huge belly at that time. I sat on my bed and everything seemed to be sickening. I was feeling an eerie nausea beyond control. I was never a morning sickness type of pregnant mother but this time it was really really really really really very unbeareable. I was sick to the bone.
The decision to see the doctor was always auto cruise every time I was pregnant for I had a series of medical difficulty during pregnancy.. that was Pre Eclampsia Toexima (PET). I would not want to be on untoward seizure.. not when I was already fully healthy of my final trimester.. fully 7 months pregnancy. I could not figure it out but this was for sure not a PET symptom.
That very same day.. I had a full medical check-up with the OG Specialist that concluded all was well with my pregnancy but I remembered telling that my ear ache. I was immediately sent to the ENT and after a series of this test and that test.. here and there.. every other week.. I was finally set up for my surgery.
Through out that final 2 months of my pregnancy.. I had to go for full medical check-up.. not only to my ante-natal clinic but also my ENT clinic. I had with me then.. 3 worries.. the pregnancy.. the growth in my ear and the unborn child.
hmmmmm
I had since last night tried to read arwah Hasnah's writing of her life battling but somehow or rather I did not make it that far. Arwah's might be gone now but reading what arwah's had written as if "talking" with arwah now.
It brought back to the time where I had that 24 sticthes at the back of my ear lobe.. where I had my skull scraped also. A beautifully done stitches and successful surgery by my doctor.. Professor Lokman Saim of UKM Hospital.
Shooting on the Move
beautiful!
*
another view
On the Bike.. On the Ride..
and I captured those views.. my own view of the ride.
It would always be dependable on the steady hands to get the view I intended to capture.
and most often than not..
I would always want to capture the picturesque of the sky and greens..
and of course.. the men and their machines inclusive.
using Nikon D60
*
*
using Nikon CoolPix L10
rain or shine
straight or winding
I would always be ready for my captivity
*
*
*
*
Bold and Beautiful
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http://www.utusan.com.my/
sebelum bertindak.. fikir masak-masak,
semasa bertindak.. beranikan diri,
selepas bertindak.. jangan difikirkan lagi?
Love and Friendship
love is like the wild rose-briar,
friendship like the holly tree --
the holly is dark when the rose briar blooms,
but which will bloom constantly?
the wild rose-briar is sweet in spring,
the wild rose-briar is sweet in spring, its summer blossoms scent the air;
yet wait till winter comes again,
and who will call the wild-briar fair?
emily bronte/1839
Style Concious.. The Direct Style
Ernest Hemingway on Writing
"When you write," he (Hemingway) said, "Your choice is to convey every sensation, sight, feeling, emotion, to the reader. So you have to work over what you write. If you use a pencil, you get three different views of it to see if you are getting it across the way you want it to. First, when you read it over, then when it is typed, and again in proof. And it keeps it fluid longer so that you can improve it easier."
"How do you ever learn to convey every sensation, sight and feeling to the reader? Just keep working at it for forty-odd years the way you have? Are there any tricks?"
"No. The hardest trade in the world to do is the writing of straight, honest prose about human beings. But there are ways you can train yourself."
"How?"
"When you walk into a room and you get a certain feeling or emotion, remember back until you see exactly what it was that gave you the emotion. Remember the noises and smells were and what was said. Then write it down, making it clear so the reader will see it too and have the same feeling you had. And watch people, observe, try to put yourself in somebody else's head. If two men argue, don't just think who is right and who is wrong. Think what both their sides are. As a man, you know who is right and who is wrong: you have to judge. As a writer, you should not judge, you should understand."
Interview with Edward Stafford
from
2001, December 07/UPM
Sun Rise.. Sun Set..
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err why is this sudden craze mania of the sun that rises?
*
*
Of late.. since the past few months.. I had not been driving myself to and fro work. Daily.. my husband would be sending and fetching me and the timing could be very regimented.It came to a realization.
I had lost my autonomy of managing me and myself.
Either, my husband was being rushed or I were being rushed.
Either, my husband would have to wait a little bit longer or I would have to wait that long.
Neither my husband nor I am complaining but.. err but what, eh?
Lake Tahoe, California
Simply put, I like the serenity of the early morning drive.
I know.. I had been driving myself to work ever since I could remember.. 20 - 25 years? My days will always begin as early as 4-5 in the morning and I would be all geared up to hit the highway by 6. I love the morning coolness and the "environment" that welcomes me on each passing day.. each passing journey. Not to mention, the journey home, meeting the sun that sets.
This morning.. as I dropped off Boy No. 6 aka Boy Bongsu.. as he kissed my hand.. the warm memories sending my sons to school came rushing into me. I swallowed my tears.
Boy no. 2 as I dropped him at VIKL and TIKL later.
Boy no. 4 as I dropped him at SMK BTHO and SAAS.
Las Vegas
Misty Light Summer Night
laura is the face in the misty light
footsteps that you hear down the hall
the laugh that floats on a summer night
that you can never quite recall
and you see laura on a train that is passing through
those eyes how familiar they seem
she gave your very first kiss to you
that was laura but she's only a dream
she gave your very first kiss to you
that was laura
but she's only a dream
(laura.. frank sinatra)
silhouette of a young woman
standing on a balcony
near the ocean
at sunrise
Fly High
fly, robin fly
fly, robin fly
fly, robin fly
up, up to the sky
fly, robin fly
fly, robin fly
fly, robin fly
up, up to the sky
fly, robin fly
fly, robin fly
fly, robin fly
up, up to the sky
(fly, robin, fly.. silver convention)
sunrise reflected in Vermilian Lake
Canada, Banff NP, Mount Rundle
My Wife is My Shirt
metaphor elaborated..
a poem by Stephen Tropp.. 1960
My Wife is My Shirt
I put hands through her armpits
slide my head through her mouth
& finally button her blood around my hands
a love poem, eh?
so.. does one's wife is as intimate, familiar, and close to him (the husband) as that shirt on his back?
Syahdu-Nya
via our e-mail loop.. i received the news.. a friend is of stage 2 liver cancer.
just exactly a week ago, i met her after that sweet 16/17 episodes of us.. so many years and years and years ago.
we hugged.. really hugged.. was a really tight hug almost gripping becoming one of two bodies. at that point in time.. i sort off - sense something was really amiss. no words came out.. none utterance what so ever.. none at all. just such a warm nice-to-meet-you eternal loving hug.
i just could not figure it out.
no tears.. no words.. just "i look at you".. "you look at me" and we smile a serenade smile with each other.. a smile right from the bottom of our heart.
i looked closely into her eyes.. she has this serene look.. full of clarity.. of herself and her life.
i really could not figure it out.. what is there she is trying to tell me.. or make me capture.
we just stood there.. hands in hands.. looking at each other.. physical closer inspection.. and just smile.
she looked contented yet something is amiss.
my heart goes for you.. dear friend.
and this.. was written by one of us.. and sent to everybody. it is meant especially for her.. that friend of us.
Syahdu Nya
untuk sebuah kenangan
pada sehelai kertas putih
bagai ada tinta yang mengukirkan ia
secebis demi sekerat
antologi di karang
mampu membangkitkan
sentuhan perasaan
yang datang berlumuran
bagaimana mahu diungkapkan
apa yang tersimpan di hati
jua tak mudah melafazkan
apa yang terbuku di kalbu
apa yang kau rasa
apa yang kami rasa
saat berlagu erti rindu
biarpun
rasa rindu
rasa kasih
rasa sayang
namun semua rasa itu
adalah rasa yang telah tertinggal dihati
namun ingatan tidak pernah mati
terukir abadi sebagai kenangan
namun masanya sampai jua
dalam keterpaksaan
salam perpisahan dihulurkan jua
andai esok tiada lagi gelak ketawa
kita tetap merindu dan dirindu
ingatlah disepanjang jalan kenangan ini
selagi ada hayat dikandung badan
jikalau kau ibarat bunga
jangan kau layu, wahai bungaku
biar semerbak wangi dijambangan pertiwi
kerana kau tumbuh dari semangat kami
akarmu tetap di sini
akan aku catatkan
pada helai-helai harinya
kaya dengan pengalaman yang matang
disimpan peringatan untuk pengajaran
kerana detik-detik yang mendatang
semuanya pendakian
yang akan mendewasakan
satu hari
satu masa
kita akan terus mengintai dari tirai waktu
sulaman demi sulaman kasih dan kenangan yang terpintal
ingatan nan abadi kekal
selamanya
