HAWN FAWN

I am slowly getting back into the groove of posting again (I owe much of it to a newly-formed friend, Dakota).  This past summer, I visited the country I most want to plant my roots and call home: Singapore.  As soon as we touched down in Changi Airport, I knew things were different.  There was something contrastive about the people and the aura of this country.  In the morning, we left to explore on foot and learned, quickly, that Singapore summers are dangerous if you aren't equipped with at least two changes of clothes and a lot of water.  Aside from being dehydrated, though, my eyes were starving.  Everything was beautiful, and loud, and grand.  My favourite places in Singapore were Clarke Quay, the Financial District, Sentosa, and Marina Bay (yes, all tourist spots).  I can't find the proper words to convey just how magnificent Singapore is, nor can I explain the unyielding grip it has on me.  All I know for certain is that I need to come back here and I need it to be an almost permanent vacation.

Remember when I was in Asia for 20 days a couple months ago? Well...neither do I.  It took so long to edit these pictures, and I nearly gave up, but I am finally finished with the first batch.  So, let's start at the end - Vietnam.

On this particular day, we ventured just a short ways north of Da Nang and headed to Hue.  It's mostly known for it's beef noodle dish (bun bo hue), but I discovered something more amazing than the food (wait for that post!).  The scenery was breathtaking.  We rode through valleys that opened up and led way to mountains of lush greenery.  Above us, a light fog loomed, but it was still as dry and as humid as the deserts; to the north, more mountains, and to the east and west were bodies of water riddled with fishing boats.  After leaving behind the hustle and bustle of the city, it became drastically apparent that country dwelling did not even coexist on the same plane as the city or suburbs; everything is more spaced out, there's hardly anything modern - the buildings are shacks, and if not that intricate, then you'll find only flimsy planks of wood nailed together and kept upright by strong tree limbs and topped off with patchy tinned roofs.  People sleep on hammocks instead of beds, they nap in fishing boats and sway with the tides, everyone moves without purpose and it's as slow as molasses but it's perfectly acceptable.  If you're trying to achieve enlightenment, you'd most likely find it here and get absorbed in the serenity.  Hue also keeps you modest; the people make their living on food, either by catching what they can find in the waters and selling it to local restaurants, or raising herds of chickens and opening up a speciality restaurant for the few people who do pass by this ghost town.  It was definitely one of my favourite places in Vietnam.

I'm not quite sure how it happened, but I was lucky enough to win a pair of tickets to see Geographer (AGAIN!) the following day at Skirball (also with Sea Wolf, who I now only remember sings two of my favourite love songs of all time).  Thanks a bunch BuzzBands.LA for giving me the opportunity to experience such a great night.  The theme for the night was obviously hipster prom because there were a lot of hipsters, and they were dressed up....or dressed down... I snuck up to the front and got some pretty nice shots of the boys (I actually had over 130 pictures snapped of the band that night, REGARDLESS of the HORRIBLE lighting).  I even got a few pictures of Brian! Anyway...so....hey Geographer, need a traveling photographer?

Seriously, that's what the venue was called.  I'm not sure why, though, because there weren't any telescopes, nor were there any stars to see that night...oh, my bad, I saw Nathan "nice hair" Blaz, Michael "the beard" Deni, and Brian "where is Brian" Ostreicher, of Geographer. If you guys haven't listened to their stuff, definitely please go now right away, check them out.  Mike's got the voice of an angel,  Nate's a cello god, and Brian abuses those drums so good my grammar gets thrown off by it.  The set was too short, but that's always the case when you encounter a group of musicians who sounds even better live than on record.  It's almost impossible, and you don't want it to stop.  Almost like this one time I had a pretty ugly, fat woman sit on my back, tenderizing my muscles the way I would a slab of sirloin.  But Thursday night wasn't about that.  Mainly, it was about how great Mike's angelic voice is - proof is in the tattoo: he used to be an angel, lost his wings, but that sole feather is the only remnant of his immortal life (right, Amanda?) - and how Nate's hair is so L'Oreal suave when he gets into the music, and how Brian always draws the shortest straw because they put him in the worse places possible on stage, making it impossible to take pictures of him.

We are the miracle of force and matter making itself over into imagination and will.  Incredible.  The Life Force experimenting with forms.  You for one.  Me for another.  The Universe has shouted itself alive.  We are one of the shouts.

Ray Bradbury, my favourite author, may you rest in allegory Heaven.

And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees, just as things grow in fast movies, I had that familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer.

F. Scott Fitzgerald