fallen

my brother

we wander but are never lost

emma

don't be fooled by the rocks that i got

my rock collection from left to right—

red granite: from a coast in brittany, near paimpol. the beach was scattered in many heart shaped rocks. i kind of picked up this one, i don't know why.

white granite: from the ruins on a mountain near santo tirso, portugal. i wish i had pictures of the view, but alas, i have a rock and no view.

brown rock (which sparkles when put to the light): from ecuador! it is my favourite because it's from south america.

grey pebble: from venezia, italy.

bluish pebble: from barcelona, spain. i am surprised it's not strawberry shaped and coloured like a rainbow considering everything else is like that there.

the last one is from loch ormond, scotland. my friend drew it for me because she felt sorry for my rock collection. ...or maybe she felt sorry for me.

—most collections start from receiving a useless gift, i.e 'what should i do with this hand crafted jewellery box that can't even fit a pair of earrings? oh i'll start a hand crafted jewellery box that can't even fit a pair of earrings collection!'

i started collecting rocks after i realised i had too many sea shells bracelets from various holiday makers. when someone asked 'what do you want from *insert name of their holiday destination*?' i started answering 'a rock'. most people forget anyway, but this is what happens when they remember. they help me build an empire! (of granite roughly the size of a few corn flakes so no need to worry your world is safe).

two way street

kimbra iv

all stars

arielle

no stranger than fiction

when you were younger, did you ever think you were the only person who had a brain, who could think, who lived, and everyone else was just put there to be in your life? (okay maybe it was just me... *tugs collar*) but that was how i felt till i was 9 and wondered what a friend was doing, and went, 'holy mother of moses other people continue living their life when i am not around.'

it was a relief the fate of the world no longer depended on me.

here comes the sun

emma

snacks on a plane

it is hard to eat properly when you're travelling.

by properly i mean 1. healthy, and 2. within reasonable intervals called 'meal times'—that's hard because a. you're travelling, and b. you are on a student i-saved-this-money-from-my-horrible-part-time-job and now-i-am-rewarding-my-self-by-spending-it-travelling then going-back-to-an-equally-horrible-part-time-job-to-save-for-my-next-trip budget.

the most meal routine i have is found on 10 to 20-hour-long flights. where you are systematically fed every four hours with snacks in between... which is great because, i really like plane food. something about the microwaved tin foil amongst thousands of others that really just delight my taste buds. i have fond memories of plane food served by singapore airlines, mainly because it was the first few meals cooked by someone (or thing) else after 3 years of my mum's cooking.

two years ago i flew korean air, and realised their plane food had the closest resemblance to their national cuisine! my eyes actually widened from the sight of being served bibimbap on a flight. who needs plastic surgery to have bigger eyes when the surprise of excellent plane food can do the same trick. you'd probably just need to be surprised by excellent plane food on a constant basis...

flying back from europe i found myself on an emirates flight, my life was changed again and i do not think flying any other airline will ever make me feel as satisfied. though the staff seemed a little all over the place, and i was asked to change seats twice so i didn't divide families (we all know families can't sit behind each other, they have to be next to each other!) the plane food was hands down the best ever.

eva air deserve a special mention for having fruit meals. i had the funnest ride from the natural sugar high to and from taiwan because of that.

this is useless information (like everything else) but i really like being 'vegetarian' when i fly. the food look and taste better. there is no risk of getting pork, (or beef or lamb). plus it comes before everyone else so you don't have to keep an eye out for the trolley and pretend you just saw it as they get to your row. when really you have been eyeing them the whole time muttering under your breath to roll faster! roll faster! get to me and ask whether i want the chicken or the fish before the fish runs out!

which airline do you think serves the best plane food? (if you say air china i will throw a cold dumpling from their menu at you. just kidding!) i think most people dislike plane food, i guess i haven't lived to taste enough good food to push plane food out of my idea of 'good (plane) food'.

but do share with me your favourite, and/or least!

kimbra for pocketto magazine

kimbra

chai time

roj

edison was a jerk

peregrine

maroc

when i put my hand on the back of my neck i can still feel the moroccan sun. it's red, dry, and feverishly hot. maybe i was sunburnt and that is my souvenir.

on my last morning, i climbed the stairs to the roof of the riad and nestled myself on a sofa under the open air, it was dark but stars decorated the sky, in the distance the mosque shone and blanketed the medina in a thin layer of golden light. i wanted to freeze time in this ancient red city. i was so far away from all i knew, i began forgetting things.

when i was a child i moved around a lot, at least once a year, to a new city always, and before going i would cry to the people i am leaving, why are you sending me away. but when you are young, you grow and flourish where ever you are planted. whenever i would arrive at my next destination, i would talk the way these new strangers did, forgetting the old dialect i spoke in, play the same games these new friends did, and forget the names of those i spent months with.

you create a new future because it is the innate way for you to survive, and you begin to forget life before hand, as if life had only begun in this new place. that was how morocco was starting to make me feel, it captivated me, and i had spent so much time being immersed in another world that priorities began unconsciously shuffling.

but i couldn't freeze time. the moon was soon pushed away by the rising sun, and i headed downstairs to leave.

now it is all just a warm memory in my mind, and i hope dearly it stays.

translation:

love: it is a feeling people cannot live without

it is beautiful and attractive

if you are stressed:

smile

people should choose a simple way to express it

liberté

île de bréhat

postcards from italy

many times i thought i was in a dream. surely no place can be this beautiful — over and over again.

my body turned to a light, feather-like cloud each time the air (thin as it was) vacuumed into my lungs. and the stillness of the landscape made everything look as flat as cardboard. i thought if my arms reached out far enough, i could rip each scene off the wall.

venice, italy

the vatican

lisboa, portugal

lost in the post

i have always liked traveling by myself, you arrive as you can, go as you please, yet the places you feel most alone, are always the cities with many others. i liked my time in berlin and barcelona, because i could feel the culture and sense of community on my skin even as an outsider. but in london, the only thing i felt connected to was the tate modern, and in madrid it was the reina sofia. the cities were a giant silhouette to me otherwise. oh bagels from a bakery called beigel in london, i went there twice a day every day it became a little creepy.

the places i fell in love with, would have to be italy, portugal, brittany in france, and morocco. more photographs to come i promise. here are the very few photos i took of passing cities.

berlin

beautiful berlin is your name from now on, because in the words of sinéad o'connor, nothing compares 2u... uuuuuuuuu. it feels though all the congenial forces in the world gather and bake cakes from rainbows in berlin. i would return here in a heartbeat and plane ticket.

copenhagen

copenhagen is like an elegant, perfect, rich cousin that everyone wish they could visit so they can play with all her dolls and stroll in her gardens, and maybe speak to her. but the price they need to pay to reach her glorious castle is too much... for a travelling student, anyway. and even when you do finally make it, you realise you never liked dolls in the first place.

prague

i almost cried at my incompetence of not being able to buy a bus ticket from a machine for half an hour. i had to take a long walk, clear my head, eat a bounty bar before the epitomist steps of how to buy a ticket in the czech language came to me. the city is breath taking nonetheless.

vienna

sugar and spice and all things nice.

paris

this place kind of broke my heart. i will come back and see you again, properly perhaps.

barcelona

i turned 21 in barcelona. i kept forgetting my birthday, nothing unusual. below is fruit from la boqueria market, the place is wonderful, fresh juice, candy, happiness... and with it you travel to sit on the longest park bench in the world designed by the craziest architect ever, looking over barcelona in its entirety, and the feeling becomes pretty euphoric.