Friday, September 22, 2006
Saturday, September 16, 2006
Garuda
Couldn't help myself and got distracted of my weekends activities by someone's story writing challenge. Also needed to go sleep so I set myself the one hour limit.
Found the challenge at: Inner Minx's blog, and it was started by: Skint
As I only had an hour I didnlt really edit it :S but then, I am not a writer and not a native English speaker, so deal with it! :) Hope you enjoy! (wrote it yesterday night 10:45-11:43 but the internet connection was faulty...)
Maybe one day I'll have tome top illustrate the story.
Garuda
Yes, it was a wheel. Debris in the form of long pieces of grass, discarded pieces of cloth and half a plastic water bottle stuck onto it, but it was definitely a wheel.
Suddenly Arun saw a way. He was going to ride that race. No one could tell him otherwise, he was going to be part if this.
He ran home to tell his friend Miri who looked at him questioningly when he laid out his plan.
“And you want me to come and help you pull out what you might think is a whole betajk, fix it up and race it?” he asked incredulously?
That was exactly what he wanted.
It took them the whole afternoon, pulling, digging pushing and turning. But when night set in a silhouette of an old and broken betjak could be clearly seen against the darkening blue sky.
Some people had accumulated, of which some had left again shaking their head, and some had stayed to see what the plan was. It was too dark to see the glow on Arun’s face. But he was filled with a pride that only those with a vision have. His Race, his Betjak.
There were some jeers from the side about the old broke betjak, but he didn’t hear them. There was a man who tried to buy the betjak off of him as he saw a future for the instrument, but to Miri’s great dismay he declined.
It didn’t take him that long to replace the missing wheel, and the slight bend in it didn’t matter. They were the same high and the betjak moved. It was big. Bigger than he had anticipated, and so he found some blocks to stick on the pedals so that he could reach. The one block was slightly thicker then the other, but it didn’t matter. He was capable of riding it and that was what mattered. He rode it everywhere, and soon most people knew who this boy was and what he wanted to do.
The reactions were still the same: Older people shook their head and left, the youngest ones stood in awe, the rest laughed or jeered. However Arun held his head up high and rode on.
He found some yellow paint and took to painting the whole thing yellow. The orange and red pieces of cloth he got from the lady at the market who had left over scraps and who found herself rejoice in the boys enthusiasm and determination.
He bound them to the back so they would dance in the wind.
“I am like the sun!” he yelled at her and she smiled…
On the day of the race the man at the track looked at him and laughed.
“you wanted to ride in the race” he asked.
Arun eagerly nodded his head.
“Well that will cost you 5.000 Rupia entrance money then”
.
His world seemed to shatter, but only for an instance for it only took him an instance to come up with another idea. “What if I started later”, he asked, “no one has to blow his whistle for me.”
The man at the entrance box shook his head at this nonsensical boy.
Who would want to start the race later then the rest? “You can’t win if you start later,” he said, but the boy persevered:
“Would it be free if I started after everyone has started off?”
In a way the man felt sorry for the boy with the yellow betjak which looked like it might not even make it to the start… would there really be any harm in letting him start late?
“Sure it would be free”’, he said, “but make sure everyone has left before you start”.
Arun hurried to get his betjak. It wasn’t like he didn’t have chance still he thought. He had trained hard and his calves had hardened from his trips to the market and down the dirt road along the river. He was ready and very excited.
There was a clutter of betjaks at the start, all different colours. Some new and fancy ones, some very old but made to look as if they were going to ride the stars of off heaven. The start sign hooted, the gas running out before the sound had fully well come to an end, whichmade it sound a bit pathetic.
Arun had stalled his betjak right next to the entrance. You could barely see him there unless you knew that there was someone there. Someone eagerly waiting for his chance to ride.
His muscles tense with excitement, he stepped down on his peddles as hard as he could. He was young and he felt he was catching up. His concentration was such that he didn’t hear the noise and laughter behind him. He paddled most of the way without losing sight of the other contestants, his betjak cracking and squeaking.
But the other betjaks were superior to his and the different higt of the blocks was wearing out. When one side came crashing off it heeled over to the other side precariously, but it still moved, and he kept on.
He had lost sight of the other contestants and even though he knew his race was overand he had no chance to win, he was riding this race because it was his dream, and he kept going.
When down by the river the end of the race was neigh, the boys that had been jeering at them earlier stepped out on the road.
“you move like an old donkey!” They called at him
“No I fly like a bird he shouted back.”
And like before, his excitement could not be diminished.
When they threw the can of oil which lit up all the red and orange streamers, the yellow paint turning a flaky black, he came to a halt, and slightly before the finish his betjak gave a last loud eerie squeak and slumped as if an old man who could go no further. Arun watched it burn, the left over he gave a shove, back into the river which ate it with a slight hissing sound.
Earth to earth, dust to dust, and betjaks back into the river
There would be another race next year
And there would be other old betjaks in the river.
For those of you who didn't know: Garuda (Phoenix in Sanskrit) is the mystical firebird which is considered as chariot of Hindu God Vishnu.
Found the challenge at: Inner Minx's blog, and it was started by: Skint
As I only had an hour I didnlt really edit it :S but then, I am not a writer and not a native English speaker, so deal with it! :) Hope you enjoy! (wrote it yesterday night 10:45-11:43 but the internet connection was faulty...)
Maybe one day I'll have tome top illustrate the story.
Garuda
Yes, it was a wheel. Debris in the form of long pieces of grass, discarded pieces of cloth and half a plastic water bottle stuck onto it, but it was definitely a wheel.
Suddenly Arun saw a way. He was going to ride that race. No one could tell him otherwise, he was going to be part if this.
He ran home to tell his friend Miri who looked at him questioningly when he laid out his plan.
“And you want me to come and help you pull out what you might think is a whole betajk, fix it up and race it?” he asked incredulously?
That was exactly what he wanted.
It took them the whole afternoon, pulling, digging pushing and turning. But when night set in a silhouette of an old and broken betjak could be clearly seen against the darkening blue sky.
Some people had accumulated, of which some had left again shaking their head, and some had stayed to see what the plan was. It was too dark to see the glow on Arun’s face. But he was filled with a pride that only those with a vision have. His Race, his Betjak.
There were some jeers from the side about the old broke betjak, but he didn’t hear them. There was a man who tried to buy the betjak off of him as he saw a future for the instrument, but to Miri’s great dismay he declined.
It didn’t take him that long to replace the missing wheel, and the slight bend in it didn’t matter. They were the same high and the betjak moved. It was big. Bigger than he had anticipated, and so he found some blocks to stick on the pedals so that he could reach. The one block was slightly thicker then the other, but it didn’t matter. He was capable of riding it and that was what mattered. He rode it everywhere, and soon most people knew who this boy was and what he wanted to do.
The reactions were still the same: Older people shook their head and left, the youngest ones stood in awe, the rest laughed or jeered. However Arun held his head up high and rode on.
He found some yellow paint and took to painting the whole thing yellow. The orange and red pieces of cloth he got from the lady at the market who had left over scraps and who found herself rejoice in the boys enthusiasm and determination.
He bound them to the back so they would dance in the wind.
“I am like the sun!” he yelled at her and she smiled…
On the day of the race the man at the track looked at him and laughed.
“you wanted to ride in the race” he asked.
Arun eagerly nodded his head.
“Well that will cost you 5.000 Rupia entrance money then”
.
His world seemed to shatter, but only for an instance for it only took him an instance to come up with another idea. “What if I started later”, he asked, “no one has to blow his whistle for me.”
The man at the entrance box shook his head at this nonsensical boy.
Who would want to start the race later then the rest? “You can’t win if you start later,” he said, but the boy persevered:
“Would it be free if I started after everyone has started off?”
In a way the man felt sorry for the boy with the yellow betjak which looked like it might not even make it to the start… would there really be any harm in letting him start late?
“Sure it would be free”’, he said, “but make sure everyone has left before you start”.
Arun hurried to get his betjak. It wasn’t like he didn’t have chance still he thought. He had trained hard and his calves had hardened from his trips to the market and down the dirt road along the river. He was ready and very excited.
There was a clutter of betjaks at the start, all different colours. Some new and fancy ones, some very old but made to look as if they were going to ride the stars of off heaven. The start sign hooted, the gas running out before the sound had fully well come to an end, whichmade it sound a bit pathetic.
Arun had stalled his betjak right next to the entrance. You could barely see him there unless you knew that there was someone there. Someone eagerly waiting for his chance to ride.
His muscles tense with excitement, he stepped down on his peddles as hard as he could. He was young and he felt he was catching up. His concentration was such that he didn’t hear the noise and laughter behind him. He paddled most of the way without losing sight of the other contestants, his betjak cracking and squeaking.
But the other betjaks were superior to his and the different higt of the blocks was wearing out. When one side came crashing off it heeled over to the other side precariously, but it still moved, and he kept on.
He had lost sight of the other contestants and even though he knew his race was overand he had no chance to win, he was riding this race because it was his dream, and he kept going.
When down by the river the end of the race was neigh, the boys that had been jeering at them earlier stepped out on the road.
“you move like an old donkey!” They called at him
“No I fly like a bird he shouted back.”
And like before, his excitement could not be diminished.
When they threw the can of oil which lit up all the red and orange streamers, the yellow paint turning a flaky black, he came to a halt, and slightly before the finish his betjak gave a last loud eerie squeak and slumped as if an old man who could go no further. Arun watched it burn, the left over he gave a shove, back into the river which ate it with a slight hissing sound.
Earth to earth, dust to dust, and betjaks back into the river
There would be another race next year
And there would be other old betjaks in the river.
For those of you who didn't know: Garuda (Phoenix in Sanskrit) is the mystical firebird which is considered as chariot of Hindu God Vishnu.
Monday, September 11, 2006
Creative on Command
So this weekend I spent at least 9 hours in the art building...
No, we do not have a crazy obsessive teacher...
Would her being British have anything to do with it?
Yes, I refuse to draw another senseless object this semester...
I am quite satisfied with ho some of them turned out though :)
The assignment:
Find two objects, stick them together, draw them. Fin another object, add it on, draw them again. Go in search of yet another object, make sure they ae securely stuck together, add t on, draw it again. Please use a different medium for each, try some different background materials... I want ten done by tuesday... and I reckon you need to spend at least 3 hours on a piece to make it succesfull. (She is right, of course, but if you have 10 pieces to do!!!)
So these are the results:
No, we do not have a crazy obsessive teacher...
Would her being British have anything to do with it?
Yes, I refuse to draw another senseless object this semester...
I am quite satisfied with ho some of them turned out though :)
The assignment:
Find two objects, stick them together, draw them. Fin another object, add it on, draw them again. Go in search of yet another object, make sure they ae securely stuck together, add t on, draw it again. Please use a different medium for each, try some different background materials... I want ten done by tuesday... and I reckon you need to spend at least 3 hours on a piece to make it succesfull. (She is right, of course, but if you have 10 pieces to do!!!)
So these are the results:
I left out 2. One because it was a picture (creative huh?) and the other simply because I forgot to take a picture of it. I think I definitely got more into it towards the end.. whadda you think?(there's bigger versions when you click on them) I think they are pretty neat pictures for a whole bunch of disposable objects LOL.
Oh and the highlight of my weak: I got called a neat freak to my face haha! and it was supposed to be an insult! Well let me tell ya, I'm still wondering if maybe I was dreaming. LOL
Music: Cassandra, ABBA
Quote: Art is making something out of nothing and selling it. -Frank Zappa
Monday, September 04, 2006
Cup, cup, cup, cup,... of, of, of, of,...
Well yes.. tea :)
Started the day off very well with some eggs and toast.. fresh farm eggs mind you! They were delicious! Nice ot know Amy had the same tradition at home, made it all the more enjoyable.
All satisfied and well I went to China town where, to my disappointment, the store where I got my T-Mobile card was closed. I found another one, but this man didn't speak plenty enlgish to no understand that I want simlock off! I guess not then! The official T-Mobile store was also closed, so I'm still unreachable.. I don't mind so much it is just a little inconvenient..
So seeing as I didn't need to spend money on that this weekend I went to waste it elsewhere! I bought myself the teapot I saw last time.. "happy happy joy joy" Yes I'm a little bit of a tea junky. So, especially after having a talk with a good friend back home and concluding you get lazy when living on your own and just don't make tea for yourself, I figured something needed to be done. (Thanks Vera!) This buy was very justified!
The teapot was bought in this fashion:
After talking to this lady for a while who imported the goods herself and inquiring about all kinds of tea and how it was grown and how that was different from Indonesia or India and what the customs were in China, (somewhere we even talked about thiopian cofee) I walked out of there with a teapot and 4 little chinese cups (because you couldn't just buy a teapot according to the lady) for merely 10 dollars. The teapot was 10 to start with so I guess I did a good job somehow... and in the end it was of course chinatown :)
This all in grave comparison with the lady in the store before that who tried to sell me a somewhat larger teapot for 36 dollars.
Next story:
I came into the store, which was stacked with porcelin dishes, cups, teapots, non-stick pans, chinese dragons, christmas ornaments, you name it! and in which I barely dared move in case I'd knock something over, I asked for the price of the thing as nothing had a lable on them. When she told me I lifted an eyebrow turned around and walked out. As I reached the door she said:" I can make you a nice deal for 13 dollars!!" but alas, I think she had hurt my pride too much by assuming I was a tourist. There ya go! ha! don't sell anything then! what was she thinking!!!
So now I have a nice little teaset and some delicious green tea and I emptied the whole pot over lunch. Life is just sooooo good LOL. Funny how such little things become such a big deal sometimes!
Of course I also went wild on Amy's moped, and I bought some flour and a cake form at walmart.. with the true intention of baking a dutch appeltaart(applecake).. however coming home I realised I had no measuring cups, no raisins, no bowl to mix things in and no butter.. ahhhhhh! so that will be for next weekend... (How Homely!)
Music: Voyage, George Moustaki
Quote: "There are a billion people in China. It's not easy to be an individual in a crowd of more than a billion people. Think of it. More than a BILLION people. That means even if you're a one-in-a-million type of guy, there are still a thousand guys exactly like you." -A. Whitney Brown
However if you are 6'1", white, and well you wear a big black bag and carry veggies as if you belong there, you stand out and feel like you are the only one in this world.
Started the day off very well with some eggs and toast.. fresh farm eggs mind you! They were delicious! Nice ot know Amy had the same tradition at home, made it all the more enjoyable.
All satisfied and well I went to China town where, to my disappointment, the store where I got my T-Mobile card was closed. I found another one, but this man didn't speak plenty enlgish to no understand that I want simlock off! I guess not then! The official T-Mobile store was also closed, so I'm still unreachable.. I don't mind so much it is just a little inconvenient..
So seeing as I didn't need to spend money on that this weekend I went to waste it elsewhere! I bought myself the teapot I saw last time.. "happy happy joy joy" Yes I'm a little bit of a tea junky. So, especially after having a talk with a good friend back home and concluding you get lazy when living on your own and just don't make tea for yourself, I figured something needed to be done. (Thanks Vera!) This buy was very justified!
The teapot was bought in this fashion:
After talking to this lady for a while who imported the goods herself and inquiring about all kinds of tea and how it was grown and how that was different from Indonesia or India and what the customs were in China, (somewhere we even talked about thiopian cofee) I walked out of there with a teapot and 4 little chinese cups (because you couldn't just buy a teapot according to the lady) for merely 10 dollars. The teapot was 10 to start with so I guess I did a good job somehow... and in the end it was of course chinatown :)
This all in grave comparison with the lady in the store before that who tried to sell me a somewhat larger teapot for 36 dollars.
Next story:
I came into the store, which was stacked with porcelin dishes, cups, teapots, non-stick pans, chinese dragons, christmas ornaments, you name it! and in which I barely dared move in case I'd knock something over, I asked for the price of the thing as nothing had a lable on them. When she told me I lifted an eyebrow turned around and walked out. As I reached the door she said:" I can make you a nice deal for 13 dollars!!" but alas, I think she had hurt my pride too much by assuming I was a tourist. There ya go! ha! don't sell anything then! what was she thinking!!!
So now I have a nice little teaset and some delicious green tea and I emptied the whole pot over lunch. Life is just sooooo good LOL. Funny how such little things become such a big deal sometimes!
Of course I also went wild on Amy's moped, and I bought some flour and a cake form at walmart.. with the true intention of baking a dutch appeltaart(applecake).. however coming home I realised I had no measuring cups, no raisins, no bowl to mix things in and no butter.. ahhhhhh! so that will be for next weekend... (How Homely!)
Music: Voyage, George Moustaki
Quote: "There are a billion people in China. It's not easy to be an individual in a crowd of more than a billion people. Think of it. More than a BILLION people. That means even if you're a one-in-a-million type of guy, there are still a thousand guys exactly like you." -A. Whitney Brown
However if you are 6'1", white, and well you wear a big black bag and carry veggies as if you belong there, you stand out and feel like you are the only one in this world.