Showing posts with label Video. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Video. Show all posts
Thursday, October 08, 2015

‡ Under The Rainbow ‡

When the rain has stopped
You must be waiting there, under the rainbow
All the stories I couldn't say, all the secrets I couldn't reveal
I want to tell them all today.

-

This one-shot is inspired by "U R", a solo track by Taeyeon.




It's an absurd, strange short story.
I don't think I ever wrote anything like this before so I hope you enjoy this simple piece of words arrangement.

The description above is inspired by the lyrics of "U R".


__________


It's midnight.

She was playing piano.

He was looking at her.

No other sound was heard but the ticking clock and the piano. The beautiful melodies echoed through the night as if only two of them and the music existed in the world.

Then she finished her song.

He unconsciously brought his hands to give an applause, appreciating the play. She turned around to see the guest who had been silent since she touched the instrument.

He couldn't read her expression. She looked like she's surprised to see an uninvited guest at the middle of the night yet he got an impression that she had been waiting for him.

The latter sounded impossible.

"Do you like it?" she asked, smiling warmly to him. It's pretty much a rhetorical question.

"Yeah," he responded shortly, locking his gaze with hers. "It's midnight though. How could you enter this music room?"

His blunt words didn't make her feel offended. A sad smile was formed on her face, "I have my way. Anyway, say, do you know me?"

He blinked, confused. Should he know her? Because he didn't remember her at all. He shook his head slowly, still trying to dig his memories in case they actually had met before.

She let out a small chuckle, breaking their eye contact, "Of course you don't. Of course. I don't know you either, do I?"

It's so strange for her to ask that kind of question but, for an unknown reason, he didn't really mind.

Everything just felt right.


• • •


"They said there's a ghost here."

Her fingers stopped mid-air and the room was silent. She glanced at him but said nothing and neither did he. He continued again.

"They said a student jumped from the cliff. That cliff," he pointed at the closed window in the room. "It's dark right now, but there's a cliff over there."

She didn't show any interest about it.

"It's beautiful there," he continued. "I went there once before the sun set, after the rain stopped. I took a picture of rainbow."

Still nothing from her.

"Do you want to go there some other time?" he asked.

The question caught her off guard. She pressed random keys, producing unidentified music with only one finger, "No."

It felt like he had picked a wrong question but he was curious, "Why?"

She rested her fingers on the keys, finally had the urge to continue the first topic instead, "Did they tell you why the student jumped?"

"No," he shook his head, dropping his gaze. He stared at his left palm as if there's something interesting. "I didn't ask."

Seconds passed as she kept looking at him, waiting for another word to be spoken. He tilted his head slightly, still avoiding her gaze.

"I heard some people whispering when I talked to you at the corridor," he mumbled, feeling uneasy to talk about it. "They said it's strange. Why is that person talking to empty air? They whispered."

Horror was shown on her face. She stood up quickly and he finally looked up to see her. She took a step backward. She bit her bottom lip, clenching her fists.

He knew he shouldn't talk about it.

"Play it again," he requested. "The piano. Everyone can hear it for sure."


• • •


"Do you like rain?"

They were in the music room again, just like where he saw her playing the piano twelve nights ago.

It's raining outside. The room was a little bit colder than usual but they looked comfortable in their clothes. They looked outside through the wet window.

"I like rainbow," she answered, propping her chin on palm. A smile decorated her face, "Don't you?"

He walked to the window, drawing a curve with his finger on the foggy window. He murmured, "Do you think it will rain again tomorrow?"

"Maybe. Why?"

He returned his gaze to her, grinning, "Let's see the rainbow together."

"From here?" she looked confused but, a second later, her eyes widened as she could guess the answer already. "No..."

"Let's go to the cliff."


• • •


It rained again.

When the sun was going to set down, the rain almost stopped.

He walked to the door and opened it. Turning on his heels, he waited for her but she was still hesitating. He didn't ask why and she didn't tell him why.

"Do I really need to go there with you?" her eyes fell on the floor. "It could rain again..."

As the answer, he stepped out, letting the raindrops to fell on his hair. He smiled widely, "But there will be a rainbow that you like."

"That we like," she corrected his statement.

He just stood there, waiting for her to take a step closer to him. She finally did.

One step. Two steps. Three steps.

By each step she took forward, he took a step backward. When her feet had touched the ground, he turned around and walked on a few paces before he stopped again. She still followed him with small steps.

The strong wind was blowing. She was pushed by the wind, losing her balance. She was thinking to give up and returned.

He reached out his hand for her to take. She looked at him, unable to hide her emotion. It's obvious that she didn't want to continue but, when he nodded at her, she took his hand.

He embraced her hand gently, leading her towards the cliff where they could hear the sea already.

The rain had stopped. The gentle breeze blew over the cliff-top. The sun was going to set down.

She carefully took more steps forward, not letting go of his hand. She was near to the edge of the cliff.

He was the one who let go of their intertwining hands first. She gazed at the beautiful view in awe.

"Hey," he called her.

She turned around to see him. He made a rectangle with the thumbs and index fingers. It's as if he's holding a camera, having her in the frame.

"Perfect," he whispered, smiling from ear to ear. "There's you and there's a rainbow."

She gritted her teeth, knowing that she's on the verge of tears already. They're only standing metres away but it felt like thousand of miles already for her.

"I don't want to say goodbye," her lips trembled. A tear had rolled down on her cheek. "We're here already. Again."

He lowered his hands, standing still. The smile didn't disappear, "Then it will be me who is going to say goodbye."

"It's here," he took a deep breath with closed eyes. "The peacefulness of the world. The seven rays are dying the world more beautifully. You're here. I remember.  It's complete."

She cried, "I'm sorry. I... I really am..."

"Don't," he heaved a sigh calmly. "It had been a long journey. We finally met. Why would you apologize?"

"Because I wasn't there to stop you."

"Because you're not meant to stop me," he reasoned. "You asked to see me, you let me remember what I had forgotten, and you're here until my end. You're meant to save me and you did it already. "

Still she cried so hard. "Will we meet again when there's a rainbow?"

"We will," his eyes were so gentle. "Always. Like what we always did. Under the rainbow."

She was not ready for the farewell. She would never be ready for another goodbye. There's nothing good in a goodbye for her even if she could hear him saying it this time.

Both of them knew it's the final one.

After all it's been a year. It's exactly one year today.

Tomorrow all the talk about the wandering spirit would stop. Tomorrow she would hope for another day that could never come.

"Goodbye."

He closed his eyes.

She closed her eyes.


• • •


It's just one second.

She opened her eyes.

The sun had set. The wind was blowing in silence. The rainbow was still there. The words were gone. The wave hit the cliff gently.

Only tears were still flowing.

There's nobody there but her.



Transcript:


All right.

Welcome and good afternoon, President Somerson, Chairman Spalter, honoured guests, parents, faculty, staff, and – mostly! – the 183 graduates and 486 undergraduates here today.


I should say right off that I am really qualified to be your commencement speaker. I was suspended from high school, then kicked out of college in the first marijuana scandal ever on a university campus. I’ve been arrested several times. I’ve been known to dress in ludicrous fashions. I’ve also built a career out of negative reviews, and have been called “the prince of puke” by the press. And most recently a title I’m really proud of: “the people’s pervert.” I am honored to be here today with my people.

OK, I’m supposed to inspire you. How’s this? Somehow I’ve been able to make a living doing what I love best for 50 years without ever having to get a real job. “But how can you be so disciplined?” friends always ask when I tell them my job is to get up every day at 6 A.M. Monday to Friday and think up insane stuff.

Easy!

If I didn’t work this hard for myself, I’d have to go work for somebody else. Plus I can go to my office one room away from my bedroom in my own house dressed in my underpants if I want to.

You’re lucky. When I went to school, my teachers discouraged every dream I ever had. I wanted to be the filthiest person alive, but no school would let me. I bet RISD would’ve. You could possibly even make a snuff movie here and get an A+. Hopefully you have been taught never to fear rejection in the workplace.

Remember, a no is free.

Ask for the world and pay no mind if you are initially turned down. A career in the arts is like a hitchhiking trip: All you need is one person to say “Get in” and off you go. And then the confidence begins.

Of course, play is equally as important to your education as work. And in the fine arts, play is work, isn’t it? What other field allows you to deduct as business expenses from your taxes gangsta rap, Gaspar Noé’s movies, even vintage porn as long as you use it for research?

Remember: You must participate in the creative world you want to become part of.

So what if you have talent? Then what? You have to figure out how to work your way inside. Keep up with what’s causing chaos in your own field.

If you’re a visual artist, go see the shows in the galleries that are frantically competing to find the one bad neighborhood left in Manhattan to open up in.

Watch every movie that gets a negative review in the New York Times and figure out what the director did wrong.

Read, read, read!

Watch people on the streets. Spy, be nosy, eavesdrop.

And, as you get older, you’ll need youth spies that will keep you abreast of new music that nobody has heard of yet or body-piercing mutilations that are becoming all the rage – even budding sexually transmitted disease you should go to any length to avoid.

Never be like some of my generation who say “We had more fun in the ’60s.” No, we didn’t! The kids today who still live with their parents who haven’t seen them in months but leave food outside their bedroom doors are having just as much fun shutting down the government of foreign countries on their computer as we did banning the bomb.

Today may be the end of your juvenile delinquency, but it should also be the first day of your new adult disobedience.

These days, everybody wants to be an outsider, politically correct to a fault. That’s good. I hope you are working to end racism, sexism, ageism, fatism.

But is that enough?

Isn’t being an outsider sooo 2014? I mean, maybe it’s time to throw caution to the wind, really shake things up, and reinvent yourself as a new version of your most dreaded enemy – the insider. Like I am.

Ha! The final irony: A creatively crazy person who finally gets power. Think about it: I didn’t change. Society did. Who would have ever thought a top college like RISD would invite a filth elder like myself to set an example to its students? See? There’s hope for everybody.

You need to prepare sneak attacks on society. Hairspray is the only really devious movie I ever made. The musical based on it is now being performed in practically every high school in America – and nobody seems to notice it’s a show with two men singing a love song to each other that also encourages white teen girls to date black guys. Pink Flamingos was preaching to the converted. But Hairspray is a Trojan horse: It snuck into Middle America and never got caught. You can do the same thing.

Listen to your political enemies, especially the smart ones, and then figure out a way to make them laugh. Nobody likes a bore on a soapbox. Humor is always the best defense and weapon. If you can make an idiot laugh, they’ll at least pause and listen before they do something stupid – to you.

Refuse to isolate yourself. Separatism is for losers. Gay is not enough anymore. It’s a good start, but I don’t want my memoirs to be in the gay section near true crime at the back of the bookstore next to the bathrooms. No! I want it up front with the best-sellers. And don’t heterosexual kids actually receive more prejudice in art schools today than the gay ones? Things are a-changing. It’s a confusing time.

This might be time for a trigger warning. Uh, the amazing concept I’ve heard about is where you’re supposed to warn students if you’re gonna talk about something that challenges their values? I thought that’s why you went to college. My whole life has been a trigger warning. But you have been warned. So the trigger warning is [in] effect, and now back to the prepared speech.

Uh, don’t hate all rich people. They’re not all awful. Believe me, I know some evil poor people, too. We need some rich people: Who else is going to back our movies or buy our art? I’m rich! I don’t mean money-wise.

I mean that I have figured out how to never be around assholes at any time in my personal and professional life. That’s rich. And not being around assholes should be the goal of every graduate here today.

It’s OK to hate the poor, too, but only the poor of spirit, not wealth. A poor person to me can have a big bank balance but is stupid by choice – uncurious, judgemental, isolated and unavailable to change.

I’m also sorry to report there’s no such thing as karma. So many of my talented great friends are dead and so many of the fools I’ve met and loathed are still alive. It’s not fair, and it never will be.

Parents, now it’s time to talk to you.

God, these kids can be brats, can’t they? Entitled little bastards. Do they think you’re made of money? Can’t they give you a second to adjust to such social changes as sexual reassignment surgery, horn implants, and the political rights of the adult-baby community?

And, young adults, maybe today is the day you stop blaming your parents for every problem you’ve ever had. Yes, it’s a drag you were kept locked in a cardboard box under their bed and daily whipped with a car ærial, but it’s time to move on. We’ve all been dealt a hand. Deal with it! Whining is never appealing in a college graduate.

And, parents, vice-versa: You don’t get to order up your kids, either. Maybe your daughter did tattoo her entire face. Well, work with that you got! Think positively: Maybe she’ll open a fancy tattoo parlour in Paris.

I’m touched to sometimes see distraught parents bringing their angry and defiant teenage children with them to see my spoken-word show in a last-ditch effort to bond. At least both sides are trying. The truce of maturity will come to families if every member is patient. I often look back in wonder at how understanding my parents were. Dr. Spock didn’t have a chapter in his child-rearing book on how to handle you son if all he wanted to do as a child was play Car Accident. Yet my mom took me to junkyards as a toddler and let me wander around fantasizing ghoulishly.

My dad even lent me the money to make Pink Flamingos, and I paid him back in full – with interest. But, looking back, did I really expect him to be thrilled that I had made one of the “most stupid, vile, repulsive films ever made,” as Variety called it?

My parents made me feel safe, and that’s why I’m up here today. That’s what you should try to do to your children too – no matter where you get your children these days.

Contemporary art’s job is to wreck what came before. Is there a better job description than that to aspire to? Here’s another trigger warning, and pardon [me] for [swearing]:

Go out in the world and fuck it up beautifully.


Design clothes so hideous that they can’t be worn ironically.

Horrify us with new ideas.

Outrage outdated critics. Use technology for transgression, not lazy social living.

Make me nervous!

And finally, count your blessings.

You got through college. You didn’t commit suicide, O.D., or have a nervous breakdown, and let’s remember the ones who did.

It’s time to get busy. It’s your turn to cause trouble – but this time in the real world, and this time from the inside.

Thank you very much.

__________

Credit for the transcript goes to here.

Friday, May 24, 2013

‡ 22 ‡



Talking about birthday, some would always have their own choices to spend their special days.
Ones would love to spend their time with families and friends, or perhaps lovers if they already have.
Ones would just spend the day in ordinary way, pretending it's just another good day.
Ones would wait for people to greet them with birthday wishes, simply because it's their days -- the days to have the attention without asking for it.

Me?
I was used to be the one who was eager to have more and more birthday greetings from friends. It was the moment when I felt so special for just one day.
Then, I don't really remember when, I turned my principle to hide my birthday as unnoticed as possible -- hiding it from the social network possible, replying privately to the birthday wishes I received, and all.
The reason is quite childish. I was just hoping people would remember my birthday without notification from social network or someone else. Oh, I even once asked my close friends to not publish my birthday anywhere.

Now?
Oh, I'm just a combination of both. I'm trying to have my birthday as ordinary as it can be. I still hide my birthday here and there but, when people greet me at Twitter or other SNS, I would gladly reply to them even though it means people would notice.
I take all of them as blessings and I am grateful for them.

The different things I notice from my 22nd birthday today?

No more text message.
I used to receive text message as the form of birthday greetings until last year. Since smartphones and social networking services are worldwide now, people barely use the text messaging function -- I guess. Yep, my phone doesn't vibrate at all this whole day for a new text message.
I still kept some birthday text messages I received last year though.

No more post on Facebook wall.
Last year, people used to mention the birthday boy/girl on their Facebook status. Today I have a really peaceful Facebook notification. In fact, I have none. All the birthday wishes came from BBM, Twitter, and Whatsapp, followed by Instagram.

I have this tendency to remember one or two memorable birthday greetings I received from year to year.
Last year, Riki Rikmen sent me a text message (which I still keep in my phone inbox):

"Happy bday bu er, smoga sukses di perjalanan hidup,karir,jodoh . Tetap menjadi bu er , jangan brubah" . Bless you :)"

It might sound really simple. Well, it is really simple but it's more than memorable for me. How could I put it in words? I definitely like the words 'keep being yourself, don't change'. It makes me feel I'm good as myself -- and I'm happy.

This year's best memorable birthday greeting came from Monica Dewi Putri. She is currently at Shanghai now. Yes, different country. A really far one indeed. But she managed to give me the birthday greetings through Whatsapp.

She recorded her own voice just to wish me a birthday greeting! I was on my way back to home when I heard her voice, making me smile with unexpected expression. She made quite a surprise for me this year.

Well, in the very end of the day, I'm grateful for today. I got the chance to attend an event at Pacific Place, watched Fast and Furious 6 for free, walking around the mall with my partner at work, Stella Winata, who celebrated her birthday yesterday.



Thanks God for being so good and all for me. I'm so blessed to be loved by You.
Thanks for my family, for being the place where I grow older as time passes and be better -- I hope.
Thanks for my friends, for all the wishes and blessings you send to me. Appreciate them so much.



I also gave myself a birthday present. Pathetic, eh? But it's somehow a tradition I made for myself. LOL.
I hope I will enjoy the books. ;)



Since it's my 22nd birthday, hereby I also post the lyrics of "22", a song by Taylor Swift, one of my favorite artists.
Thank you for reading! ^^

It feels like a perfect night to dress up like hipsters
And make fun of our exes
It feels like a perfect night for breakfast at midnight
To fall in love with strangers

Yeah,
We're happy, free, confused, and lonely at the same time
It's miserable and magical, oh yeah
Tonight's the night when we forget about the deadlines
It's time

Oh oh!
I don't know about you but I'm feeling 22
Everything will be alright if you keep me next to you
You don't know about me but I'll bet you want to
Everything will be alright if we just keep dancing like we're 22
22

It seems like one of those nights, this place is too crowded
Too many cool kids
(who's Taylor Swift anyway? ugh)
It seems like one of those nights, we ditch the whole scene and end up dreaming
Instead of sleeping

Yeah,
We're happy, free, confused, and lonely in the best way
It's miserable and magical, oh yeah
Tonight's the night when we forget about the heartbreaks
It's time

Oh oh!
I don't know about you but I'm feeling 22
Everything will be alright if you keep me next to you
You don't know about me but I'll bet you want to
Everything will be alright if we just keep dancing like we're 22
22
I don't know about you
22
22

It feels like one of those nights,
We ditch the whole scene
It feels like one of those nights,
We won't be sleeping
It feels like one of those nights,
You look like bad news
I gotta have you
I gotta have you




Credit goes to here and here and here