Dream of Paradise

iStockphoto

The last time I was on iStockphoto (according to their records) was in July 2011. Which means the last time i was rejected by iStockphoto was more than a year ago.

I've been working really hard to up my game in terms of the pictures I shoot and here I am, more than a year later on the website thinking of getting possibly rejected yet again (I've been rejected on at least 3 different occasions now).

But here's the thing - I'm not sure if my eyes are starting to fail me at this ungodly hour of the day or if I'm so technologically impaired or if I really can't seem to find the damn button that lets me submit my photos to be scrutinized by the worlds leading photo critics (I assume their jobs are to just sit there and rate our photos like health inspectors rate restaurants).

I've spent over 45 minutes scouring the website, including the SITEMAP, but have so far turned up short with my eagerness slowly dwindling into an exhausted stupor.

Well, for what it's worth, here's the picture I intended on submitting. Would love to hear what total, honest strangers have to say about it.

I'm guessing it wouldn't pass iStock's criteria anyway. After closer inspection, my boat seems to be a tad fuzzy. 

Cohesion of Sound and Sea

It was a Thursday night. I had come back from work and stayed up all night to catch a flight the next day at 6am to the East Coast of peninsular Malaysia where a little island called Perhentian lay.

There were 8 of us. A mish mash of friends from different worlds leaving to enjoy the sound of the ocean beating against the sand that would, in a few hours be making its way through our toes.

On a plane, off a plane, on a van, off a van, on a boat, off a boat. We had finally arrived. Abner handed me his iPhone and the sounds of Ludovico Einaudi's Divenire filled my ears as I sat on the chalet front staring out into the endless body of water that would engulf anything that dared mess with it. Such a gentle element and at the same time, such a dangerous one.

We laid in the sun, on the sand. We sat in chairs, under the stars. We washed our worries away in the ocean as silence fell over our submerged heads, eyes watching the schools of fishes. Blue, green, white, rainbow colored. Corals that would tear your skin if you stood on them and corals that would caress your skin when your hand brushed through it.

We ate, we drank, we laughed, we shared moments, and all too soon it was over. 4 nights of sheer nothingness, and then we were once again pulled back into our reality of smog and pollution, of time that seemed to tick too fast, of work that seemed to never end.

It was a trip. Not a holiday, or a vacation but an extraordinary trip which brought man back to nature, and the soul to peace.

The Backpack Dilemma

A couple of months ago I stumbled upon a really cool field pack.

The Arkiv R6 Field Pack by The Mission Workshop

Fully customizable. Enough space to fit a chopped up dead body. Easy access compartments and pouches. And it makes you look like a man.

Then I saw the price tag. After conversion it would cost me roughly 700 Ringgit. The price is justified simply for the fact that its fully handmade. I was ready and willing to buy it.

But it still lacked something I truly needed. The protective elements for my camera.

I've been looking for a really nice camera backpack that can fit and protect my laptop, my camera and my lenses.

The problem with camera bags these days is that their fully functional, but not aesthetically pleasing enough. If they're aesthetically pleasing, they usually aren't practical enough.

If someone knows of a good, practical, aesthetically pleasing backpack that would fit my laptop, camera and lenses, as well as other rubbish like notebooks and pens, please let me know. I'm dying for one.

Bags, Bags, Bags!

Bags. I'm a sucker for bags. What also sucks is that is that I can't afford them.

You remember when we were kids and use to lug around big ass backpacks which could fit 6 textbooks in it? (Here in Malaysia if you don't go to a blue blazer private school, you don't have lockers)

I remember the day I got my first "cool" backpack when I was in high school. A bodypac that barely fit 4 notepads and a pencil case, that my dad had bought for me one day when we were out walking around the mall. It cost him 50 bucks. Which was a shit load compared to the 10 dollar bags I use to have. I treasured that bag until the dag i finished high school (Which, honestly, was a year later than i expected, so the bag lasted real long).

Then I went to college and a buddy of mine was telling me about this place that sells cheap knockoffs of American brands. I headed there one day and got myself a really cool looking, but uncomfortable "Manhattan Portage" messenger. College kids can't afford imported 400 dollar bags, so I was pretty happy with it. Then I got myself a nifty laptop and realized the bag didn't have the necessary padding. I spent hours scouring the internet for a bag that would properly protect my laptop and not cost me my arm. And I found NOTHING.

So I trudged along with my laptop in that same beat up messenger. From my first college, to my second and then to my third.

By then I had already bought a camera which had gone through one free gift sling bag, an unwanted free gift sling bag, and a hand-me-down sling backpack which my friend didn't want anymore (I later saw why). I ended up with a really awesome backpack I bought on the street outside a 7-Eleven in Bangkok. I still use that to this day.

It was then I decided maybe I needed a bag that could fit my laptop and my camera all in one. So on the internet I went again. And found this.

The Timbuk2 Snoop Camera Messenger Bag.

It was perfect.

It looked awesome. Had a camera insert option, and fit my macbook, along with tons of other stuff.

Problem was, because Malaysia is such a shoddy country, they didn't want to sell online to us (They were victims of credit card fraud here once). So I called my cousin in San Francisco and asked if she could get it for me. I had to wait a month before she got home from Seattle. By this time, I was already exploding on the inside with excitement.

Then I found a guy in Malaysia selling this same exact bag online. 50 bucks cheaper too. So I bought it and anxiously awaited its arrival at my doorstep for a week.

It came and I started to get skeptical if it was legit. I cross checked mine with the original specs online and realized this asshole sold me a knockoff. It generally worked in the same way but was missing a few parts, like the memory buckle and proper padding on the strap.

I lost it. I had spent 400 bucks (original price after conversion) on a bag that wasn't even legit. I gave up and began using it. Telling myself everyday that it was fine. It worked and thats all that mattered.

Then I took it on a trip and came home with one shoulder partially paralyzed and decided to go back with my backpack and leave my laptop at home.

These days I spend everyday sitting in front of the computer searching the interweb for a backpack that would fit my needs. I can now afford them, but realize that none of them can do or offer what I need.

A Midnight in my Imagination

I dreamt. I dreamt.

I dreamt that in I walked along a path so long and windy my head spun around me. My eyes focusing on nothing but a bright, shining, white light at the end of the journey. I squinted. I shielded my eyes. I cowered for protection from the rays that assaulted my peripherals. And yet closer yet I walked towards the unknown.

All this while I thought about the fear of the unknown. How our bodies shudder and go into tiny spasms at the thought of what the unknown could do to us. But what could the unknown do to us? It being unknown, we very obviously wouldn't be able to tell what it can or cannot do. Then it dawns on me it isn't the unknown that we are afraid of. It is the imagination that the unknown encourages. The simple imagination of the possibilities of what things we don't know, can or cannot do.

I'm not the first to realize this. Many before me have come and gone and have managed to control, no not harnest, but control and cage the imagination. Kings and Queens, Dictators, Governments, Prime Ministers and even Presidents all fear the imagination. The ability to imagine and create with the mind, to set an idea and bring forth the creation of what was once unknown and unimaginable, the ultimate unknown. Ideas that could topple governments, economies, and the very good lives of the elite.

But as they say, fight fire with fire. Using the imagination to control imagination. The planting of one seed that will outgrow another. We all know this as RELIGION. The plant of idealistic thinking to transition into discipline and submission.

I didn't say there isn't a God. I only ask where did the idea of a specific one come from?

I'd dare say the light at the end of my journey would more easily be a spaceship than it is a gate of such grandeur that it blinds me (Why would you built a gate so grand that you couldn't see it. How the hell would I know its grand then).

From Rugs to Riches

Publika. The latest hipster hole to pop up here in KL, offers all things expensive, trendy, artsy and sometimes even out of place. Like this Habibi selling rugs dead smack in the middle of what is now hipster central on sunny Sunday afternoons.

Their staff are really friendly too. Like the Indian girl working the information counter who decided to halt the entire line of lost patrons just to ask me where I got my tattoo done and if I could write down the name and number of the shop for her on a small piece of paper. All this while the line only got longer.

But all jokes aside, this really is a nice place to hang out if you enjoy good food that's served with actual pork in its food court. The Hokkien Mee and Chilli Pan Mee are foodie favorites here.

Something Good Can Work

Its that time of the year again where we change our biological traffic rhythms to suit the patterns of our fasting Muslim friends. Its the one month of each year I enjoy barreling down the close to deserted high ways at insane speeds (About as fast my heart allows. I've a weak heart), dashing across lanes like my grandfather built these roads (He didn't. I'm Chinese). Its the one month I make it home in time for dinner with the family with spare time to laugh my ass off in front of the tele and then attempt a weak eight push ups before I give up and splash myself like a whale in the shower before I head to bed.

Alas. The month is coming to an end and that means Hari Raya is nigh! That also means my deadlines for work are about to punch me in the face and then in the shins when my partners and I finally realize that our next collection for the next season will be late (I still pray in the quiet of the night that it wont be). But all my worries become distant memories when I think of all the rendang I'll be stuffing my fat face with.

So to ALL my Muslim friends and readers, Selamat Berpuasa, Selamat Buka Puasa and here's an early Selamat Hari Raya (Don't forget I like rendang and I'm damn sure YOUR house will have some come Raya!)

(Oh just in case anyone finds this picture offensive, the tattoo ACTUALLY says "Something Good Can Work")

A Freedom Unfathomed

Alone in the dark.

Blind but enlightened.

The contrast stark.

From what is hidden.

Deaf to all.

Cymbals ring out.

A high to call.

A musical cult.

Inner freedom.

Unleashed within me.

As short as a thump.

Too fast to see.

Away its gone.

On my knees I fall.

Just another one.

The night I call.

From the Heart

I spend a lot of my nights sitting in front of my computer, music blaring in my ears, just reading photographers.

I noticed unlike a lot of people, I don't go to photography websites to look at photos, I go to read. I'm also really bad at reading boring technical stuff, like where to place lights and camera settings. I go to read about the experiences of the photographers, to feel what they felt, to learn their emotions, to understand their soul, to know them as people, as individuals in their own right.

Photography, to me, is more than just being able to set up and read lights, its more than being able to tweak settings accordingly, its more than just skill. Its emotion. Its music in your heart. Its that nudge you get that makes you want to smile, laugh, cry. Its capturing and freezing an emotion to mummify it to last throughout the ages.

Photography is from the heart.

SKATE or DIE

A photo taken from our lookbook shoot yesterday for Pestle & Mortar's next collection. Mart's an awesome skater who knows his way around a ramp. 

Singapore 2012

Yeah hopping the border once again to that little Island with an economy stronger than a mule's back was a thrill. Still never as good as going to Bangkok but then again I got to leave the vices of my heavily scheduled life for awhile.

I went down for an old friends wedding and ended up staying 5 days on the island, without making a single trip to the beach. Most of my time there was spent battling a horrid flu and trying to drown it in alcohol.

I shit you not Singapore, like Malaysia, is so hot I actually got sick from spending my first day walking around the city. Scorching! Although, the nights are really nice and breezy seeing as to how its actually an island.

A highlight of the trip. Haji Lane is the coolest little alley with the coolest little boutiques and some pretty rad ass cafes. 

I have NEVER in my life had to get in line to get on the escalator. 

Hugh getting acquainted with the colors of Haji Lane. 

I swear this was the best part of my trip to Singapore. Yeah, going into Universal Studios feeling like I've been transported to a different country. I traveled to travel.

You should see the shit the people working there are required to wear. This dude reminded me of Aladdin's monkey. 

Far, far away. I'm not kidding. The walk made me break sweat. 

They even had this very authentic diner with these bomb ass rides parked out front.

Mmmmmhhhmmm. That right there's an Impala holmes! Ride slow, ride low ese!

Our lovely host, Becky. Amanda's cousin who put us up in her house. She's totally mad fun.

Charlie was very kind to pose for a picture even though he had a whole line of people waiting to take pictures with him. These dudes were totally in character and couldn't be thrown off by anything.

Man I loved this movie as a kid. The special effects on this shit was off the hook with explosions and gun-fire and even fools falling off into the water when they got shot!  

You know whats the worst part of Singapore? That feeling you get when you feel like you're being watched. Because they are.

This drunken semaphore

It's like we just can't help ourselves,

'Cause we don't know how to back down,

We were called out to the streets,

We were called in to the towns...

Called Out in the Dark

So this is my third draft considering I sat here with the intention of writing something brilliant. Unfortunately I've been writing for work so much the past few days I actually don't feel like writing anymore. Yeah, thats saying a lot!

I, for once, have nothing to say.

So i'm just gonna leave you with a picture of the beautiful sunset at Tanah Lot, Bali that I took on my recent trip there.