Thursday 2 April 2015

Different.



What does it mean to be different?

The dictionary description of the word "different" is:












During my early days of juvenility and self-experimenting, I had always thought of "different" as a noun. And to this day, I still do.

 My Mum always told me that "It's okay to be different". So, I grew up wanting to be "Different" --  whoever that might be.

 At age 3, I spent a lot of my time with an imaginary friend whom I named "Mookiepie". At that time, Mookiepie was my "Different"; he dyed his hair everyday and only ever wore black. To me, Mookiepie was fluorescent and garish. He gave not even a twitch to the vapidity of society. He was his own character - probably the character I aspired towards, while also being the character I'd ought to have no confidence in being.

 At age 5, my imaginary friend escaped my imagination and embarked on a bigger and better life - I lost my idea of Different. But, that didn't worry me.



Boy George | singer | Symbol of AndrogynyPunk style wa-fukuPippi Langstrømpe / Longstocking at schoolJapanese Geisha "Geisha (芸者?), geiko (芸子) or geigi (芸妓) are traditional Japanese female entertainers who act as hostesses and whose skills include performing various Japanese arts such as classical music, dance and games."























I began to look for Different in my Mum's make-up drawers, Gwen Stefani's music videos, the sheets in my Grandma's cabinet, the keys of my piano and Lady Gaga's 09' lightning bolt -- she/he had to be somewhere. 

I was surrounded by images of Harajuku girls, japanese Geisha, Pippi Longstocking and Boy George and his "Karma Chameleon" (or, Tamielian , hehe). Home-time always consisted of radical outfit concoctions, DIY-lost-and-found-object Barbie costumes and random runways showcasing the gloriously ridiculous garments I was sporting. This was not a sporadic event and my cousin and I often made our whole extended family watch our "show" in the living room. My daily routine was a pursuit for "Different".

School wasn't miserable. I wasn't an outsider. But, I didn't fit in either. I wasn't bullied. But, I was still judged. I liked being alone (still do) and I liked observing the people around me (still do x2). No one knew about my avant-garde experiments at home, and I was perfectly fine with that. At school, I was what you'd probably consider "normal" and at home, I was my idea of "Different". I didn't exactly build a facade for myself at school, but I definitely wasn't the Mookiepie type of girl I wanted to be. I guess my eccentric and bizzare way of thinking was what separated me from the other kids at school, rather than my appearance. And to an extent, I was okay with that. If school uniform wasn't an issue, I probably would have (willingly) been the only 8 year old in Auckland with LSP purple hair, knee-high black and white stripped socks and black, 10-eyelet Dr. Martens. 

I'm much older now and not much has changed. I'm still on a pursuit for "Different".
Now that I'm old enough, I've seen her in more than just people. I've seen her in literature, art, nature, music, photography - every creative muse. I've seen her on the bus, in the city, at the library, in a big white empty room. I've seen her get dressed, spill her paint, trip on air, obsess over a stupid boy, procrastinate, over-think, get nervous and hide. I've looked for her and have seen glimpses of her presence.
And after thinking I had looked for her everywhere, I finally get it now -- as cliché as it may sound, I guess I forgot to look for her in myself.

 I guess I am "Different".



Tamiel

leave a comment
Sunday 8 March 2015

Wires

We are in the modern era: an era where technology is considered an extension  of our hands: likes are thoughtlessly thrown, we write nonsense on each others walls, emojis are often both misused and misunderstood, birthday wishes bombard timelines, double-tapping becomes second nature and no matter where we are, we have full access to it all. Yes, this is cliché. This is our jejune reality and we know it. 

One of the more simple and interesting things I guess, are earphones. But, the vibe that comes out from them is on a whole different level. It's complex, somewhat personal, sinful perhaps, critical -- almost defining. I guess you could consider it identifying.

I caught the bus home today. Last year, this was my routine. Today, it was my unfamiliarity. 

While waiting anxiously at the bus stop (I'm very shy, and I fear even the tiniest 5 seconds of talking to the bus driver), I drove my eyes down the line of school girls swinging their legs on the bus stop bench. Each girl was moving to the sound coming out of their twisted wires. This is such a familiar sight, but today it seemed unfamiliar. This wasn't because of the unfamiliarity of the bus environment; it was purely because I stopped to realise it. Reality check: Wow, we are in our own technology world! 

I built up the ersatz confidence to pay my $3.50 to the bus driver, smiled genuinely and sat down on the nearest empty chair I could find.

I locked eyes on a particular boy. This was not because he was particularly alluring, I was not attracted to him in any way. He looked very normal - nothing especially noteworthy. Though, I looked at him long enough to observe him. White boy, Black T-Shirt with what seemed like a Maori tribal print, expensive brown leather guitar case with what probably would be an expensive guitar enclosed inside it, futuristic watch, the all-popular Man-bun, blue eyes -- unusually conservative, very calm but in a way, eccentric. I stared so hard that I found this boy to be electric; he couldn't stop moving. It wasn't because the bus was an excessive jitter or the fact that the bus driver probably shouldn't have been employed, but it was something in the music he was listening to. 

Wild fingers, tapping at an unusual and irregular tempo; bobble head, sweltering and fidgety lips, shock-wire knees. Interesting. He looked like he was the musical kind of guy. Having a guitar and all. But, for some odd reason, his manner didn't suit his facade. It didn't seem right. But I'm sure it was more than right. It was him. And I love that! I guess that's the thing... You're only left to assume what came out of those earphones and in most cases, you're bound to be wrong. Assumptions - inaccurate assumptions. 

I've always thought about this. Earphones and their owners. What music makes people move the way they do? What did they decide to add to their playlists?

I love watching people react to the music they're listening to. The vibrations visually show throughout their bodies. Music can't hide. It can hide in your ears, but if you feel it enough, it will become an extension of your body. So, Earphones aren't the full picture. That picture is left to the music. 

If someone is naturally a dancer or, has no rhythm at all, they thoughtlessly move to the vibrations they're familiar with - the rhythm they made up. 

I like observing that made up rhythm. It's like a moving signature-- not a dance, but a signature. It's 100% just them. And it's left open to interpretation. I think that's beautiful. 

This is one of the many perks of being a 21st Century Miss Brill. 




Help me,


The girl with a litany of thoughts.


Tamiel.  





leave a comment
Thursday 22 January 2015

Rooftop virgins

So, for the very first time (in a very prolonged amount of time), I, home-body hermit child, left my more-than satisfying homely lonesome-ness and headed into town with my impeccably gifted friends: Nina, Tamkeen, Lena and Rose. 

We made the journey to the long line of hunger pit-stops on Ponsonby road. After much contemplation, we ended up having lunch at a cute cafe on a side-street. It was delicious! Then, we grabbed some much needed, pistachio gelato. 

me, before I happily demolished the plate. nyam nyam.

After hours of catching up (or, group social networking and wi-fi abusing), delicious food and loads of laughter, we all made a final trip to Queen st, where Rose spontaneously introduced us to a rooftop. We had never seen a view of Auckland other than that of the Skytower's. So, it was liberating to see Auckland from a different perspective. 

A 360 degree scenery of pure Auckland. It was beautiful. Being the spiritual beings we all are, we couldn't help but feel liberated by what we could see. However, it was agreed that it was definitely not possible to feel that liberty through our iPhone camera lenses. That view we saw through our iPhone screens was entirely different. It was hard to believe. And quite verrrrrry irritating. A pixelated mess! But, anyway, although our iPhones weren't able to capture the liberty, our thoughts definitely could. 

My thoughts? Watching the miniature bodies below us was especially intriguing for me. I don't know if that was due to my stalker ("person observing") nature, but it was definitely interesting. I watched these bodies scatter the city. Whether they were sitting in the hundreds of concrete structures that surrounded me, whether they were the figures that drove the vehicles below me or even if they were the moving pins that scurried along the streets -- they were all on a journey of their own. 

I thought about it. Like a mind game, I struggled to believe that we too, are those bodies. 10 minutes ago, we were the pins scurrying along the streets. And our journey? It started with a cute cafe and made a very impromptu decision to end up on a rooftop. I couldn't help but wonder about the other journeys below me. Where are they going? Why are they walking so strenuously? Are they late? Is their journey just starting? What is he eating? How do they know each other? Why did she go into that building? An abundance of "person observing" questions. The type of questions that I wont ever get the answers to and the only type of questions that I will settle for leaving unanswered. 

In a way, I felt privileged. From one spontaneous journey to a rooftop, I could see more than the landscape. I could see more than Instagram photo opportunities. I could see more than the myriad of buildings. I could see more than just Skytower or Rangitoto island. I could see the thousands of walking stories and walking thoughts. It felt almost like an invasion of privacy to be exposed to so much life. I felt like I didn't deserve to see so much. But, I guess I'm blessed. Blessed in what way you ask? Blessed to be one of the billions of walking stories on this Earth. It's a gratifying feeling.  And so, thanks to spontaneity and plans bigger than my own; I ended up on a rooftop with 3 old-souls and left with a mind full of inspiration.

 2015, I won't ask you to be good to me, instead, I will be good to you.  
Rooftop virgins (Lena, Nina & Rose)



Tamiel

leave a comment
Friday 9 January 2015

Unknown.

Greetings folks! 

Merry belated Christmas and Happy New Year!

Yes, I know, this post is well overdue. However, I have decided (this decision might or might not have been already semi-decided and completely procrastinated in previous years) that, as part of my 'new year resolutions', it would be a splendid idea to quit the laziness and let my words bleed a lil'. Hence, 2015 me, 10 days late, again in poor posture, comfortably sitting, eagerly-but-barely, letting my fingers do some new years exercise. 

A few days ago, I arrived back in Auckland, after 2 weeks in the torrid sun. I ventured a small 3 hours away from my green-grassed, jean-wearing, season-indecisive, body-covered country to a country so vastly different -- Straya' mate! Yes, I made the good old, annual trip to Australia. Gold Coast, Australia actually; the sweltering melting pot for bronzed skin and tourism. 

A 3 hour trip to a paradise where I can just.... be. 

Auckland, (being the miniature space he/she is) never gives enough room for anyone to remain anonymous. You can't truly get away from the familiarity, the reeking comfort -- the knowing. It's an amiable feeling to be anonymous for a while. 

No likely encounters. No caution. No restriction. No care. No Nothing.

I know it might sound ridiculous. But, as ridiculous as it sounds, I love being unknown. In a world where it's de rigueur to have a name and be known, it's an exciting routine-dynamite to wake up unknown. Routine. Dynamite. POW! 

The sunshine state in a very poor state.
Brisbane's eye
The Q1 -- iconic building of Surfer's Paradise.
Nepal Peace Pagoda - Brisbane

fun fact: I have the talent of "person observing".

FUTURE BEAUTY: 30 years of Japanese fashion (GOMA, Brisbane)




Gallery trippin'.
I. Love. This. Building. So. Much. (Infinity tower, Brisbane)


The true sunshine state. (Cavill, Surfer's Paradise)

Yohji Yamamoto (GOMA, Brisbane)

Kawaii zone (GOMA, Brisbane)


Tamiel

leave a comment
Tuesday 16 December 2014

A 'hi' from me

Hi friends!

 As much as I'd like to construct a well thought, mini story about myself as my first blog-post (which would be appropriate for a "first blog-post", right?), I feel as if these words just want to fall as they'd like to -- so I shall let them.

 I've thought a great deal of blogs and how much of a great expression tool they are to creatives, such as myself. However, I never thought I'd be brave enough to publicly unleash my raw, bizzare and concaved thoughts... but here I am, sitting comfortably in poor posture, willing to start with the unleashing. 

 I have no idea what I will write, what I should write or where I should start. 

 [Fun fact: it took me just over an hour to write this post in all its 'less than 500 characters' (in other words, this is much more difficult than I thought it would be)]

 So, I will leave you with a metaphor as I invite you to ride this raw, bizzare and concaved rollercoaster with me.

With sincerity,
Tamiel


leave a comment