This song always makes me cry

I was surfing Youtube and came across a few unsigned but incredibly talented artists which I felt were worth a listen. In this cover of Death Cab for a Cutie's I Will Follow You into the Dark - is Jinah & Gerald (aka singindork888 or afraid of everest).

Everytime I listen to this song, I cry. More than just cry, I bawl. Partly because its such a sad song and partly because its so profoundly sweet. I don't profess to know the intention of song but it invites me to long for a type of love described here. It's incredibly hard to articulate but the lyrics of this song speak it so clearly and never fails to touch my heart.

It's the type of love only time can mould and inspire. The kind which supersedes death, separation & hardship. The kind of epic love stories and deep but quiet relationships are made of. The kind shared by an elderly couple or tragic young lovers.

It's the kind of love I should be so lucky to have one day...with time, age, wisdom and a deeply intimate partnership with the one I love and who loves me.

Picking up the pieces

A week of unpacking & packing has left me and my aunts exhausted. I've had the bittersweet opportunity to go through all my mother's things - mind you, she has a lot of things. My mother was a sentimental woman, who kept everything she felt reluctant to part with. This applied particularly to her clothes & accessories.

My mother was an extremely fashionable woman with a walk-in closet that overflowed into guest rooms and mystery miscellaneous storage places which till this day I'm sure we have yet to uncover. She was blessed with a fabulous sense of style and taste and as I go throw my mum's beautiful wardrobe, I feel blessed to keep many of the pieces that remind me of her. From clothes to shoes & handbags, accessories & jewelry, my mum spared no expense to her passion to fashion. I've been fortunate enough to keep some pieces which I may never be able to afford.

Going through my mother's things was an emotional but fun experience. I found clothes and accessories from the 70s and 80s, which we laughed about. Items that only my mum could pull off because if we even tried, we'd look like clowns. I found pieces which I'd hadn't seen in years since my childhood and others which I've never seen in my lifetime which she still kept. It made me miss her more but also comforted me, in knowing that she's with me every time I wear something of hers. I found things which have made its back way full circle in the fashion cycle: pleated pants anyone?

It's a blessing to me to have had to chance to do this with my aunts. I think she was watching from above and laughing along with us. I miss you Mum. You had way too many things but so many have since benefitted from them. I love you.

damn i miss my car...

After living in NYC for approximately 2 weeks or so, I would never dream of driving or owning a car in this city. Parking rates are exhorbitant. Traffic is insane and manouvering around the city is suicide. The ridiculous amounts of noise pollution generated from the incessant honkings of taxi cabs and cars can drive one mad - although I believe most New Yorkers are either deaf or have mastered the art of tuning out traffic sounds such as ambulances, fire trucks, police cars, taxi honks, subways and loud pedestrains. Everything here is loud, Loud, LOUD!

I live close by to a hospital/medical centre - so the sound of ambulances has become a natural occurence in my neighbourhood. Around my school, right on 5th and around Union Square, taxis and cars alike insist of using their horns on every living or non-living moving object. I bet you they even honk the pigeons.

However, this morning, I found myself wishing I drove a car. The inconceivable amount of supplies I have to carry to school is bordering on refugee status (if that is at all PC in this day and age) Today, I had to lug my school bag (which by the way is in no way large enough t hold everything for risk of breaking my beloved bag's straps), my portfolio which is 18x24" and a plastic bag of textile textbooks (with fabric swatches) which were far too heavy to put into my school bag. (It DID NOT HELP when the plastic bag chose to rip 100metres into the subway..##%Y%U@*!)

To make matters worse - the subway was taking a million years to arrive, with more and more people streaming in by the dozens only to make the subway station 5 times hotter and muggier than it normally is. I gave up - I decided to take a cab. But in the typical Murphy's Law fashion - there were no cabs to be had. By this time, I had bumped into 2 fellow school mates of mine and we decided it might be best to walk to school, bag, portfolio & broken plastic bag in tow. I wasn't the only one with a ripped bag - nor was I the only one who looked like a fool walking down Union Square looking like a homeless fella without a shopping cart. Thankfully, the rain which was pouring earlier had stopped...for now.

I made it to school in time, in tact and utterly unglamourously, with all my stuff and a very sweaty polo t-shirt. I was not alone. Some poor girl in my class got caught in a subway stall from Jersey because the SWAT team decided to hold it up for no apparent reason, well, not really, the reason was it is 9/11 today. I vowed I'd get myself a bigger school bag, with the capacity to hold all my textbooks and notebooks. I happily picked up a art box today to keep all my art supplies - paints, markers, pencils, palettes, brushes, rulers, etc rather than stuffing it into my school bag at risk of staining it.

Why the hell do we need to carry so much sh*t? I am a Fashion Marketing student, not Design damnit! Don't let me even begin to harp on how much I have spent purchasing the supplies and the amount of running around New York finding art shops that sell a Liquid Expresso pen specified by my prof! Sigh. The madness continues.