This post begins my series of afternoon photos. Here are the first ones and I hope you enjoy them.
I took them in two different times with short break. Focus was on the sunshine and I wonder how these two picture could be a bit different.
Why do I blog? This is interesting question.
I’m not into journalism really much. I’m not a photographer like any other blogger who makes a lot of beautiful photos. I’m not good reader at books so I can make review of it and post them here. I’m not a good cook to blog about how great a recipe is In short, I don’t have, right now, my blogging specialty. But, I like to write. I love to write as many as possible about almost everything.
I need to hone my writing and reading skill especially in English so I write. I find blog is the best media to write something. Blog is the place where I can put passages of story of my own creation without worrying someone will make fun of me. Blog is the place where I can learn English in modern ways, culture, books, and any other. Blog is also place for me to read other people’s experiences.
I have sometimes many things so imaginary inside my mind like stories, opinions, and sometimes fantasies. I find blog can be used to channel those ideas into letters so people out there can read my thoughts fairly and if they like my ideas, my contents, I hope these can at least entertain them.
Blog is a fun way to do reading. Why is that fun? Because I don’t have to read anything I don’t like. For example, I hate it when I have to ready political passage as my learning material or sport-related article. But in there many things other than politics and sports in blogging world. I can find the same learning material in other passage such as art, photography, expedition, and other experience.
To be able to contribute in such thing: telling people how wonderful you morning was; how great your coffee was: how beautiful your local festival was; is just awesome. When in real life, there is no guarantee that people would read your writings, in blog, there are plenty certainties that people would lovely read your stories. You don’t have to be afraid about finding someone else who shares common hobbies or interest with you.
By blogging, I find myself learning so much: learning how to make sentences in English, combine them into one meaningful passage, and mix it another passage into good stories. More importantly, I read, I know, I learn.
So, this is what I get but I am pretty sure that there are more which I haven’t realized yet.
White blouse with brown, black, and purple stripes mixed with black trouser matched with a pair of black shoes, covered in long black raincoat made of wool, these were things he wore that day. The day wasn’t that rainy or wet but just the opposite, it was one cold and dry night. The wind stroke his head which was without hat and left his hair messed up as if he was even care about it. He was walking to nearest cafe to have a warming and calming drink.
He entered the cafe with scent of jazz and a bit of classic piano. There was no singer but there were pianist, cellist, guitarist, violist, and drummer. They played the unknown song for him. He sat in front of the coffee table and told the drink-maker his order: a cup of black coffee, with scent of vanilla, a teaspoon of sugar for sweet taste, a pinch of mashed cinnamon, and one tablespoon of condensed milk. He got his cup in two minutes and drank it, a sip by sip while enjoying the music.
The clock on the cafe posed at 23.00 local time as same as his wrist watch. His watch was old edition of the brand, made from titanium alloy, framed by finest stainless steel, topped by highest quality scratch resistant glass, paired with finest leather strap. The hour hands were made from stainless steel with green phosphorus stone at the point of the hands. The number was one to twelve in Roman numerals and the letters were carved from obsidian stone. His old watch was quite modern. It was powered by solar cells on the face and two cells of battery which would activate when there was no light around.
How were weeks of yours, friend? Your old coat looks worn out.
The drink-master asked him while cleaning his glasses.
They were fine, mostly. Nothing special. I see your place has been repaired?
Not quite, friend. Please, have a look at the ceiling. What would you say?
Coffee master was sure to know how to decorate his place. Wooden ceiling without ornamentation patched with energy saving lamps suited the place well. His customers were mostly ones who were alone, alone in living and working. There weren’t many people in the cafe.
I see you don’t provide anything alcoholic, friend?
Coffee master giggled with smile while continuing cleaning glasses.
I don’t provide anything that kills human sense, old friend. Men are already bad enough with their senses on. Making them senseless just makes them even worse and that makes me a bad drink maker. Drinks are supposed to fill human desire for health and sufficient pleasure not blinding them or making them mindless. But I see you understand this matter better than I do.
I guess you are right, master. Care to fix me up with the same drink? It’s getting cold tonight.
He made the same drink for that man who was hiding inside his long black raincoat with the same glass.
I never understand your taste. Black coffee is certainly more bitter than brown ones. You request the cinnamon, vanilla, and milk. Those things are unusual for coffee, you know. Here. I will go to that side a while. Enjoy the music, friend.
He went to another side taking care another customer. His musics aren’t that bad. Sure it was jazz-kind music but there was something else added to it. A bit of classic provided by the violist softened the rhythm. All musicians wore the same outfit: black tuxedo with black shoes like him but without raincoat and with tie. He opened his phone for it had two recent messages. All sender were in unknown number with unknown symbols. He just got that right. His time for drink was over.
He knocked the table twice and left his payment under his empty cup. He waived at the coffee master and nodded at him. The coffee master gave the same gesture and continued his work. A men with black raincoat stood from his seat leaving the cafe with ease. It had been just two hours of rest before his life called back. The day just started to rain.
These are reasons why I have to bring my phone along with my jogging session in Sunday morning.
This short wandering-around took nearly an hour minutes, more or less. It was indeed a small forest. I hope these picture can show you how beautiful our forests are, where ever they are and what ever their kind is.
I was the college complex when the rain came at afternoon. Here are the ones I took with my phone camera.
What are the reasons that make you do what you do and what you are doing right now?
Every day, every daily activity you do, thought you create, fact you analyze, decision you make, what makes you do all those things?
I captured a moment of silence from one of my old friend and these were his lines.
There was once a boy trying to grow up. To be a man to achieve gentlemen title, he tried anything allowed by the God and society. He did learning things even he hated. He spoke in languages he didn’t understand. He sang the song he didn’t know. The fact that he had motivation of all things what was that?
For one something could be begun with single spark of hope. For him, the spark was started from hearing. Sounds, scents, and even voices made him out of his sense for couple seconds. This breathed fire burning his mind and his heart to beat faster for a while. So when the ignition was started he would just be like losing something and when he came to his senses, he smiled like everybody else before starting conversations, realizing his words were long gone.
Life changed and so did the weather. There was no way that spark could go without fuel. The bigger it got the larger amount of oxygen it needed. He knew his reason to light the spark would be obsolete and dead but instead of searching the new ones, he stood for his old matter. He defended his reason as he was like to sleep on it. Anyway, he never slept for a reason.
He was stubborn. He stood when the other people tried to extinguish the spark. He didn’t do anything to change what had to be changed. He just played his role at his best shot and all actors had their own time limit of acting. When the curtain fell, he also knew that his role was no longer necessary but he didn’t move out from behind the stage. He took steps outside his house alone along with the lonely road. He spoke with stones and laughed with the sky and clouds above his small head. He also climbed the tree of local forest to the highest point he could get. He watched over the mountains before all of the sudden he did the leap of faith like the assassins. At several moments, he even danced along the rain with his ears covered with damned melodies running him to always almost death situation.
For one time, there was one thing which brought down his ideals and his standing. Since there is no way mortal can live forever, he died at his last hunt. His name was vanished into the darkness of the woods. His friends had abandoned him so long ago. His sword was dull and his mind was corrupted. His sight was blurred and his other senses were dead. His empty vessel was never buried since people couldn’t reach his. From last intervention, his last whereabouts was confirmed under the tree where he started his sword for the first time to learn and the tree which was the first tree he ever planted.
He was once found sitting under the tree of the unknown, since it was him who brought the tree to life. He never mentioned anything about the tree. The leaves were all green since his existence was found and never the tree gave up its leaves even a single one. His watch stopped at last sequence of twilight and his sword stabbed the ground so deep so nobody around him was even interested to pull it a little.
Spark could be re-ignited in any forms. For one, that form could be the other spark and for another that could be the scent of the forest. His sign was red rose since he took the insignia himself from the grace of the dead. Until now, his body is still there unchanged, unconscious, and still. No one knows if he is still alive but his mind was known to wander. He played his role with no one watched and the referee was never on his side of the road.
Silence my old friend gave to me was intact. I was taken to see the tree and he was right. One of the old asked, “Have you look at the true-yet-wrong-but-true-but-wrong mirror at the lake of life?” I guess I have to agree with this old saying. His body wasn’t eternal of course but his ideals of steel-like stubbornness should be praised. His soul has been wandering anyway until these most of days at least and he might be easy to find by whom started the journey from planting the tree and climbing those things first.
This post is written to respond this.
I tried to capture every hour moment in one day but it really was hard, honestly. So, here are the pictures I have taken.
and, what did I do today? Not much. Just starring at this thing.
When was the end of the day? This.
You might be wondering, why the sky was always bright. Well, in tropical country, our sky was and almost like this.
I didn’t take much but I hope these pictures can give you a clear image of my day.
Have a good reading, fellas.