The Lines of Time

This lady deserves her own blog post. Why? because she's seen a lot of change in Bali. I asked her how old she was and she answered after much contemplation " I was around seventeen years old when i was kidnapped by the Japanese army during their occupation of Bali during world war two" she followed on to say she had fought her way free of their oppression. A feistyness not lost, just dormant in her mature, 86 year old self.

The look in her eyes tell a thousand stories of sorrow and joy. She sold what would be millions of dollars worth of land today for pennies just fifteen years ago and was cheated out of her remaining lands profits by family that planted trees that would be felled long after she hopes to live. But today she played with her great grand daughter, and reminisced happily of the day her grand daughters were married.

She has a sweetness, a kindness and an inexplicable gravity to her look, her pondering and questioning of who and what it is exactly she is looking at.

So here is the woman in question, looking right through you and your troubles.

Singapore is not lost

A place like Singapore, steeped in a history that spans from a seafaring age to a time of airborne war, a comedy of errors that caused it's loss and consequently the loss of Singapore's essence, is a troublesome place to look at through the lens. But look I did and I found something in the excessive peace and tranquil sedation that the city lays almost dormant beneath. Human beings create consequences to their ideologies that often give rise to a heightened form of interesting. Filtering out the norm I embarked on a journey with no purpose that seemed to mirrored the city I was in..... I found something.... something I still cannot define.