More than words ever can say.
July 2013
Wednesday, July 31, 2013
Sunday, July 28, 2013
You Are Just A Lucky Little Fool
You Are Just A Lucky Little Fool
I said, I could love almost any woman at long last and
almost any woman could love me at long last. They certainly are wonderful
women, each one. You’re just a lucky little fool. I’ve not the chance to know them that
long. Ha. Ha. So said Opa Johan to his wife.
July 2013
Friday, July 26, 2013
My Max
My Max
Here he – he is almost 70 - sings, without loudspeakers.
Skip this, except you’re also an amateur singer:
You did it, so I praised him. I didn’t tell him he was even
better than others I know of, as that would make him haughty. You should surpass, defeat
yourself, not others so I said to my members.
He is so poor, lives alone very far away. It takes him more
than one hour and a half walking and travelling by bus, the cheapest means to
get to the church in Jakarta to exercise regularly. Half past ten or
eleven o’ clock night time he’s back
home. Max is ‘orang Ambon’. Ambon people do love singing and have a beautiful
voice.
He was just unlucky. He might be prevented of a stroke if
he could afford to have a medical check up. Yet, imagine, he still managed to
come after this till his second stroke.
Recently he passed away. I’ve now lost three of my best,
strongest singers out of ten, two are over 80 by now. But I wont break up,
leave, abandon my choir as there wont be anyone would ever like to have, take
care of, love them, as they ‘re musically uneducated old agers, - worthless,
trash, no future, smart people would say without saying anything - except the
church would fire me. I’m happy, they, we, have got our dignity again.
When there’s only one left, we would sing together, even
were there no one left, then will I still sing alone. Ha. Ha.
So assured my Choir Conductor me.
July 2013
Thursday, July 25, 2013
I’ve Nothing To Mourn About
I’ve Nothing To Mourn About
When my statistics of my followers drop, decline, am I
still happy when my special, most favorite followers are still there. Though
were there only one, even no one left, as I yet have my silent followers, those
who don’t reveal themselves. I still can win a prize in a reader’s heart. I’ve
nothing to mourn about. Ha. Ha.
July 2013
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
A Good Thought, Art Is Invaluable
A Good Thought, Art Is Invaluable
Were I to send someone bananas or grapes, oranges, a special
printed Happy Birthday-, Happy New Year-card, especially money, he often would
thank me profusely. Were I to send him my thoughts, he would keep silent, yet, I don't want to burden him, anyone to say a polite "thank you".
A good thought is invaluable, - whoever said it - worth far more than those
trifles.
Then it occurred to me that the novel, “War and Peace” of Tolstoy, so cheap
the book price, the opera “Porgy and Bess” of Gershwin, so cheap the concert
ticket, a painting of van Gogh, though so high its price, that art, all art is
invaluable, far more than the highest price of a billion dollar painting, ...
July 2013
Sunday, July 21, 2013
My Ugly Duckling
My Ugly Duckling
I’m very proud, though this is a poor recording, yet, I did
it all myself without professional help. Recorded it, accompanied her, uploaded
it to You Tube, exercized, trained her for years, ...
She was my Ugly Duckling. No one would like to sing beside
her as she had a very shrill, unpleasant voice. And now she turns into,
reveals herself as a beautiful, strong soprano singing this for the first time
and reaches the high Bes note. I almost can’t believe it.
I said, that’s God’s reward, a beautiful, strong voice, for
your very hard work, efforts.
She passed away about two years ago.
This is as I remember her, said my Choir Conductor.
July 2013
Saturday, July 20, 2013
I Only Sharpen It On A Whetstone Every Day
I Only Sharpen It On A Whetstone Every Day
“Pak, (man) you have a good, very sharp knife, May I buy it?”
“Oh, this is just a plain, ordinary knife. I only sharpen
it on a whetstone every day. ‘Ibu’ (madam) can buy it in the ‘pasar’ (folks
market place)” So said the cold-fruit vendor. How wise he is.
And I thought, what doesn’t become sharp when whetted
regularly, daily, your voice, your
thoughts, your writings, your abilities, ...
July 2013
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