A Thought On Copy Right

A Thought On Copy Right

Why should I copy a blogger’s beautiful photo, video, writing and so burden my computer, when it were open for anyone to see, hear and read it. Were I to need it for my blog I always could mention his blog address and title without having to copy.

 

I’ve no fear. Who would copy, steal mine? Except, unless he wants to degrade, lower himself with other one’s writing, photos, videos and when he does so, instead, he is helping in publishing them for me. Ha. Ha.

 

September 2012

What Would You Do?

What Would You Do?

Were you to find something so beautiful, so invaluable of old, or new, almost forgotten, unknown, left abandoned, would you gladly pick, save and upload it to You Tube to share it with the world to be preserved for “eternity”? Would you still do it, bear the penalty, charges of doing so rather than delete, remove it?

I remember having read of Mendelsohn who picked up and saved a music score of Bach’s John Passion were I not mistaken, intended to be used as wrapping paper at a meat shop; of Lin Yu Tang who bought and saved “Six chapters of a floating life”, a beautiful story, almost forgotten, in  a book stall, now translated, published in a book: “The Wisdom Of China.”

Sure, we have saved, stored that which is beautiful, invaluable in books, saved in VCD, DVD, CD, Art museums, saved by the very rich owner, but in You Tube they’re saved, preserved for ever, not only for one, the few, the chosen, the rich, ... but for the whole world to see, to hear, to enjoy. 

 

September 2012

 

Musing About A Cottage

 

Musing About A Cottage

This cottage lies in a valley, surrounded by trees, fishponds, cool, peaceful in a village somewhere in Tajur Halang. How long will it last? The owner might sell this paradise one day for the joys of money, or is forced to give up for the building of a new large real estate, ...
 

 

Close Up View

These lotos’ are no more on lake Kemuning. They’re  weeded out.

And  I thought of the many paradises I’ve visited, as I travelled running or cycled into the country: Serpong, Jurang Mangu, Muara Karang, ... sold and now gone forever. They’ve proudly changed them into Jakarta of today, of technology, to provide for the threatening population increase with new tall buildings, houses, toll roads, noise, traffic jams, pollution, stress, ...

This is a picture of a charming village, Cilenggang, as I picture it in words, for I hadn’t got a camera then:

The country road, so cool, so shady and winding. The village houses small, so welcome, not cold and proud as grand mansions, the gardens without borders, ...

Wow, how delightful it was to be welcomed by a girl with a branch of red colored “rambutan” just taken from the tree after being tired, running in Cilenggang, which I did not eat but took home to decorate the dining table.

Though there was no park, just by going down a path through a bamboo-wood, I got a captivating view of Eden’s garden in a valley below.

And as Adam, my eyes, delighted, enjoyed to see a verdant earth, a waterfall on the hills far away and the rice fields near below. My feet tripped, danced along  a winding path, following a brook with rich vegetation bordering the sides and lovely, laughing, washing, bathing nymphs and women. My ears feasted on sounds of falling water in the rice fields and fishponds. I  deeply breathed the  pure fresh air, I bought me cendol (gelatin drops in iced sweet coconut milk) of a vendor, sitting somewhere lingering on a trunk, my heart so grateful, rapturously singing, though it was just in Cilenggang, not in Bali, the island of the Gods. 

And that was but some twenty years ago – perhaps some of you are not yet born - and now they’re no more. Who would miss them?

September 2012

Never Too Old To Be Young

Never Too Old To Be Young

I wish I could picture, the moment he stepped out of the train, walking fast with his empty pikulan (a pole with two hanging baskets on each end).Too difficult to shoot in an overcrowded train. So said Opa Johan to his wife. 

This is a photo I shot in the train. Imagine the impossibility to meet him three times in a same compartment.

He is over 90 and what’s so special is that he still teases playfully  a young woman vendor in the train and she equally teases him in return when she’s passing by. The worst thing for a man is when a woman regards him as not a man, you know? When I asked him whether he still has his wife, he said, sure. She’s just 30. I don’t remember how many wives I’ve got, while it’s a pity, I’ve only got just the first one, that’s you, you little fool?

And I thought of Liz who won a young husband for the 8th time in her sixties, but he won himself a young wife when he is over 90 years. That’s more than winning an Olympic gold medal. Ha. Ha.

 

September 2012

That's Her Gratitude

That’s Her Gratitude

How lovely this wild grass grow so tall, though on barren earth, bordering the wall. That’s her gratitude, my reward for just regularly watering it.

September 2012

Are You Alone!?

Are You Alone!?

“I’ll tell you a secret” said Opa Johan.

“On my biking travel today, a young lovely village woman greeted me with surprise, awe, ‘are you alone!?’ And what so wonderful is,” he whispered, “that she still honored me, an old scarecrow, as a man, not as a piece of wood or empty air, you know?”

"I should have said:

‘Sure. Would you accompany me?’ or perhaps better

‘Would you marry me?’

but alas am I always late for a good reply. Now am I ready, prepared, the next time. Ha. Ha.”

“So don’t you be piqued. Be grateful your dear, good husband didn’t hide this from you. I deserve a kiss, not less.”

September 2012

I Wish I Could Say It Anonymous

I Wish I Could Say It Anonymous

How I wish I just could say “thank you” on someone’s blog I love, like, enjoy, anonymous, without revealing my e mail.

September 2012