The White Sun

Never has it occur to my mind that someone would categorize my writing as 'suspense', or somewhere near that. When I asked one years ago, this writer told me that what I had in them were casually, mistakes amateur writers has taken over and over again: less detailed,wrong reasoning, incomprehensible logic... nevertheless I keep writing this blog, which I feel fun, and considering that Stephen King himself said that as a writer, one should write minimum 6000 sentences a day, well... even as amateur writer I still have this lack of exercise.

Seeing the pond in the side of Jardin du Luxembourg yesterday, my mind flew towards the scene in the movie Love Actually, where the character Colin Firth had to help his maid recollecting the blown away copies of his manuscript. The scene also has the pond. It has the same color with the one I saw yesterday, the water.

Both of us, if I could humbly say myself as one, too--- we are writers. The writers who shared the once same scenery they find themselves in.  Same color of water... And so did Virginia Woolf as what had been depicted by Nicole Kidman in The Hours; she finally drowned herself in that serene flowing, dark green water.

It's funny how different Monet saw the water, I think. He painted  all in black at first, maybe, as the shade of the water in the background of those water lilies also feels like deep greyish underneath the upper layers. I've seen somebody painting some polar bears in realistic features; first he covered all the bears in black, before then patiently, drew and layered them with their furs that were caressed one by one by his hand and brush . People will say that the bears look like they've been photographed before, while it was not. This technique has been applied before by Leonardo da Vinci,for example when he painted Monalisa. Turns out that it could give such a depth of shadows and real-impression.

There was a time, though,before that someone commented on my writing and said that it was suspense-like.

I was seventeen, oh well, yeah, almost. I found myself seated in this room, more than 12000 km away from my home in Bandung. This room was almost empty, and slightly small. There were only a table and a couch, but the girls with whom I spend my next 3 weeks in this teenage camp, loves to throw at least 3 of themselves on the couch, while giggling, sipping tea, and having snacks. On the table, sometimes one put some books there, their evening meals, their after laundry clothes... this room is just a small room and each floor in this dormitory has it. If we go outside it, we can see corridors and rows of bedrooms. My roommate was Hiroko, a sweet Japanese girl who took my photograph in mukena, of course she asked politely to do so.

But this time, beside me was Mbak Mudhi, a reporter from a girl magazine from Indonesia in charge to report the ongoing of this summer-3-weeks-camp that is meant to introduce us to the so-called United States' common culture and tradition, before then the Exchange Program Committee will be sending us to fly to each of our host families. Me, I was scheduled to spend one year with this family in Oklahoma.

"So, for you, you will still hold those Indonesian values with you, right?" Mbak Mudhi asked me. I find she was observant, like how journalists should be, and that time, I was hesitated to answer. I tried to smile and be relaxed, as Mbak Mudhi was I thought to be a charming friend and even with such a comforting friend, I was still this awkward girl in every situation.

"Well..." I just vaguely nodded.

If only I could explain what had been going on my mind properly. All this culture things, and new places! I was so desperately excited and curious to explore. I remembered my conversation with fellow mate from Indonesia, Ratna,aboard the plane when we get there and okay... I admit it was far from the topic about society and cultural interest, as we chat about first-grade high school physics topics. Now I say what that girl, the 16-year-old-me, was trying to do; to make a statement: she simply loves science.

What she didn't realize that time: she thought that science is the core of all culture. Science advancement will give birth to a new culture and society, it will tear down what it thinks obsolete, and it will categorize. When will it be exhausted?

...That time  when she was barely 17, nope, it didn't feel that science was exhausted.

And that time, the 16-year old girl  also have not thought about the bigger pictures that she could potentially think.

August 3rd, 2006

The date was approximate. It was a nice, crisp summer in Olympia when we arrived. The Seattle-Tacoma International Airport was smaller than what I thought. The windows were tall as I remembered it, and the next thing I knew when stepped out of the plane was a corridor, slightly long, before then some circular automatic reels greeted us, delivering eventually our bagpacks, suitcases, and things we brought from Indonesia. As for me, I only needed two of large suitcases and a backpack.

Roma

Will I be able to see you shine  in light?

The Mysterious Smile

The more I try to read, the more fascinating it becomes. I saw a glimpse of smile in the spring, in the winter, and in the autumn, but maybe the sun is too bright that I couldn't see anything in the summer.

My Dear Husband

And he smiles at me, gleefully, like a cute little kitten that just bidding his prey.
Sometimes he's like that. Sometimes I see a kid, so joyful, the whole of the oceans plays with him.
He commands the shark and he is gentle with the dolphins.
He is a Poseidon, he is a Triton, he is a Sebastian.

Maybe all we have is just Peterpan, and Kla, and Padi.
I never even know that I could love the former.
They're not comparable with Oasis or even Coldplay, let alone the whole ensemble of The Beatles.

But he loves them.
And so they're grown on me, too.

But then I heard Lonely Sally.
What a song!

Amertume

Is there anything more beautiful and yet at the same time, so sorrowful as sadness and bitterness that come to life? I hate being sad, but when I force myself not to, it just feels numb and I feel empty.

Today when Uda came home, he told me about this boy named Madi who is bullied by his friends when they are playing football together with the Indonesians.

I'm fed up with all the stories of children who lives in the environment just like Madi, and I hate it because all I can do is just praying for them that they would never be touched by any more violence worse.

Now that I live longer, there is not much more I can do than to embrace the sadness that comes... and be strong and hold my head up high, that somehow this life is beautiful... through its bitter and sweet times.

I pray that I'd always face the kindness of the heart of life.

The Eye of The Naturalist

Unlike The Realm of the Reals, there had never been limitation on the power of Kings of The Great Land of Opylus. They did have the shiny castles that glimps still even shinier the more our sights land upon them, with ponds of swans, unicorns, and even flying hippos. Sometimes, there could occur the more seldom fertilization between hippos and dragons, which produced an abundance of ridiculous offsprings according to His Kleine Herzog le Prinz du Brilliant Bedliszt, 58 years old the day this history written... and astonishingly still, such creature became one dear part of his core family.

The Commonwealth of The Great Land of Opylus consists of Five States in the West and South Ocean, The Fifth Obergorgonic Galaxy and Star Constellation, centered in The Island of The Great Lion aside the Continent of Sapphire-Lazarus in Oplisch (Opylus language). They have all the seven seasons possibly felt by humanoid sense: The Smiling Spring, The Cheerful Summer, The Sorrowful Autumn, The Dreadful Draught, The Deadliest Sandstorm, The Merciful Rainy Season, and The Blizzardy Winter.

Der Supreme Leader Koenig Beckruth Herzogamherst III was Bedl's father, from the family line of The Beckruth Clan in the monarch of Opylus. He currently held the highest authority of the entire Commonwealth, marked by his prerogative to hunt and savour the unicorns. His True Comrades, Her Royal Highness Queen Tsarina Vastabandj Janitschina, Second to Throne, had bore him four fair-skinned children: Ray, Mirroirs, Raffles, and Bedl. All purely Opylusian, all inherited Beckruth's ruthless gaze and appetites for power--- in their own ways.

The Supreme Leaders of Opylus owned seven seasonal palaces and castles in Opylus only. Therefore they never had more than five children; for The Grandest Castle would be totally represented and governed, and belonging to the King himself, one other castle totally abdicated to The Queen, and the rest would be managed on behalf of each remaining children. With a note that, the King would move to each of the palace each seven season.

Today was the second day of spring, year 100 A.C. (Apres Constitution). Prinz Bedliszt awaken on his couch before the fireplace in his bedroom, Chamber Dragomir Le Blanc. The mermaids living in The Pond of The Glass across his baroque-ish broad window that led to the Garden of Liliana The Fairy were already sunbathing beneath the crisp, clear blue and white ray of sun, he could see one of the auburn haired of them had her auburn haired baby on her lap. The Prinz always loved to had a roasted baby-mermaid for his supper, but it was Liliana, one of his mermaid best-friend buddy who had the baby, so he was kind of restraining his appetite. The rainbow arched towards the Horizon in the West, one of the tip a few inches below the steps after the window. Gazing the sights even further, one could see the beautiful greenish sparkling of The Sea of Meredith, and some drapherd (dragon's shepherd) herding the dragons above it.

The book the Prinz read up until he fell asleep the other night was half open beneath him, bearing the symbol of The Eye of The Naturalist--- one of the symbols in Opylusian currency.

As what has always been his trademark in starting each and every day, Prince Bedliszt almost lazily