A Loving Visit

A loving visit beyond time and space. Salaam. Universe answers.

about the museum
beloved
beloved
beloved
when you’re loved, people still visit you even when you’re nowhere 💝
when you’re loved, you’re taken care of even when you’re nowhere
beloved – visiting him with love, see you again
beloved – visiting him with love, see you again

Pak Gita & dr. Ryu

Good morning, from where I am.

why I like this neurologist? super smart and will make people feel like his friends and help us learn/unlearn/relearn based on science 👍🏼 he said in this podcast “reading is not important to all, it is important to those curious about science” 👍🏼 he also believes life is about collaboration rather than competition 👍🏼 but his tongue is spicy and salty to those trying to weakly challenge his arguments 😁

Super Charged

Super charged young boys can beat super charged old champs just with light laughter.

two boys joined our group to go river-rafting
while the adults were resting after 1-hour rafting before the next 1-hour, these boys were playing
and they played helmets throwing 😂
we asked the boys to stand up…. 💝
only one succeeded 😂 the other fell down on to the boat soft floor of the swift waves in Ayung River 😀

Ouch Call! (ranting)

A stroke of a brush is how universe started. A surprise that lasts—

Certain friend is good at the same time destroyer of mood. I have one who can leave me“ouch ouch ouch oooouuuuch” for at least one week. This person loves ouching friends as an ice breaker but to some of us he has made it to the next level. This time he ouched me romantically, the worst of all my ouch experience from him. Call one “ouch caller”.

OC: Ready for a forced holiday? Have fun! Don’t work every night, just every two nights.

Me: (1st ouch) Hmmm ok, Sir.

…. Blah blah blah

OC: How is your romance? Get rid of him. He doesn’t even care about you. Don’t be stupid. You are not a door mat.

Me: (2nd ouch)

OC: What type of man do you want? Am I not good enough?

Me: (3rd ouch, but I have to say something) Hey, hey! Not a good time to talk about romance. Painting here and don’t want to lose vibe in the head.

OC: Tell me then. Handsome? Healthy? Rich? Hard working? I… Am… Everything!

Me: (Laughing like crazy as this person was very right about himself) Are you a sales person of your own product?

OC: Yes! And I’ve been selling my quality to you for the past how long with no buy in. You’re getting older and older.

Me: (OUCH OUCH OUCH) Ok, ok. I have to explain. I want someone whom I can be comfortable being with even when both of us don’t like the same things. Can you, Mr Cruel Oucher?

OC: What! Of course not! When I go to party, you have to go to party with me. When I go to the gym, you have to go with me. When I cook, you have to cook all what I want. Blah blah blah…. You have to do what I like to do! If necessary you should give up what you like to like what I like.

Me: (Still couldn’t stop laughing) You are not. You are not that right person. You are just my ouch person.

OC: Is he still that person?

Me: Yes.

The next is the most ouched one but probably the most accurate to describe a fact.

OC: Then you have thin hope, thin chance. Not compatible. You don’t even know how to party. You don’t even know how to drink except that weak wine. You don’t even know how to flirt. He might not like reading. He might not like art and literature and walking. He might not like biking. He might hate you singing. He might hate you writing. He might hate you touching your hair again and again. You are not his physical type of beauty. He might hate you with your job. He might hate you being honest and independent. He just doesn’t like you as you. Oh! So relief I could say all these finally.

Me: (OUCH OUCH OUCH OOOOUUUUCH and this will last long) You’re right. Very right. Time to stop your ouches, Sir.

OC: Then you still say no to me?

Me: (Mild ouch but I got impatient) You? I can’t tolerate a die hard nerd like you. You cook better than women. You manage money too well; you are stingy! You love your nephews and nieces more than anyone else, you won’t care about me. You work too hard. You eat too much healthy food, I love deep fried. You ouch people too much. Listen. Don’t call me just to ouch me.

OC: Ok, ok. How are you?

Me: Fine.

OC: Broken heart still?

Me: (ouch) Not really, just a bruise and scratch. Will get over it soon.

OC: It will be gone. For you not too soon though because you are not intelligent in romance. Be patient with yourself. (He was calming and that is when everyone likes him, a calm nice guy — unfortunately came too late after too many ouches happened.) Describe how you think about that person and let’s start the real conversation of today.

Me: My universe

OC: I want to throw up! You imagine him as a Chris Martin? Hahaha!

Me: Never heard of him singing hahaha!

Then we started to chat without ouches for almost two hours — a very nice two hours. A good friend to me is that who ouches me but still makes me comfortable with her/his genuineness.

Thank you! 🤝

Chris Martin is My Universe 😁

Disclaimer: blogged with this ouch caller’s consent with one condition “no exaggeration” which is not accepted like he never said “I want to throw up” and never said that he is handsome and rich although he is rich but not handsome 😊

Friends & Love Stories (ranting)

See this pendulum
Swinging between two far poles
Knowing each other—

Someone called me and asked if we could have a dinner. We hadn’t met for many years. Knowing this person was in Singapore, I excitedly agreed to meet. Meeting this person, I was given a shock. This person looked weary and older than one’s age. The excellent appearance and posture was totally gone. That time I felt so blessed for for being me.

Me: I am not a marriage advisor, dear. Not even ever married yet! (That’s after a very long ranting from the friend stopped).

SO: But I know you are the most suitable one I can talk to.

Me: Oh…. (damn wrong, whispered to myself)

SO: …. A broken marriage… !@#$%^&*()_+=-::’<>,./?~~~~~~~~~~ What should I do?

Me: Oh…. (proven wrong talking to me, whispered to myself)

SO: …. Divorce is painful…. !@#$%^&*()_+=-::’<>,./?~~~~~~~~~~ What should I do?

Me: Oh…. Ummm (starting to show sympathy) I understand how you feel in this situation. Must be painful. Your own stress, the other one’s stress, your children, other people’s impression and words about you, your work….. Everything seems not at your side. I can understand you feel unwanted, useless, bad, irresponsible. Yet decision was made. You just should face it. How? Not sure if my word is reasonable and responsible but I think you just need to keep being you: working as before, doing activities that are still accessible, talking to your children like before, talking to your ex about the children….

SO: You don’t know! It is not that easy!

Me: Oh…. I am so sorry. I might not fully understand it is not that easy. I am so sorry for my ignorance. (told ya I am not the right person, whispered to myself)

SO: How would you survive alone all this time? You seem so happy with your life. Sometimes I regret for getting married too young. Look at you and X and Y and Z. All the singles are happy.

Me: (Oh! A sudden death! I know this would come but too soon, too soon. Let me find the right words. Whispered again to myself ) Ummm…. I think it is not that easy too…. Ummm…. I am happy, yes. Not always, but most of the time I am. Yet I also probably started hard.

SO: You don’t seem ever in hard time.

Me: That’s what you see. !@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@&%%%%%%%%%%%%%.

this is there, whoever the person is

SO: So do you think I can survive?

Me: Of course. Although our problem is not the same, I am sure you can. Don’t underestimate your ability to cope with the hardship of life. You are stronger than you think. You just don’t know it yet.

forgive yourself, don’t be too harsh to self (talk to the hand, Ma’am) 😝

SO: You really don’t want to get married?

Me: (This question I never like, never like, never like; whispered to myself, but need to find the best words that won’t cause any further question.) This is out of context; you should not ask me this question. Not that I don’t want. It’s just about time.

SO: Do you fall in love?

Me: Ok, now you are asking me question about me.

SO: I feel good when knowing I am not alone.

Me: (Make sense, but why me oh my God!) Ok. Ok. I can make you feel better. Yes I fall in love and break my heart. And I don’t want to break my heart again.

SO: So you don’t want to fall in love again?

Me: Of course not like that. I fall in love again and again.

SO: With whom?

Me: With my eyes. With my lips. With my hair. With my morning. With my job. With my…. (I saw the person got annoyed but I continued with more things) Hahaha….

fall in love, be in love, don’t be ashamed of your feeling; it is a blessing although the beloved doesn’t care —not good enough one— or doesn’t know —tell or leave as simple as that 🙃

SO: Is it that easy?

Me: Nothing is easy automatically. It takes practice and time.

SO: What if I don’t get married again in the future?

Me: That’s too far away. Think about what you can do today.

SO: Do you think I still have a chance to get married?

Me: Of course if you want! Just find the right person.

SO: How can I find it? How?

Me: (Oh my God, help me before I can help others. Whispered to myself while finding the best words for this troubled person; even an intelligent person can be as dumb as this in one’s bad time) Hey, hey! If I know how to get the right person, I would have been married much earlier. This question is irrelevant.

SO: Hahaha……! Sorry, sorry! Hahaha……..!

Me: (Ok, at least I made you happy, whispered to myself. Mostly smiling among listening to the ranting, I enjoyed a perfect night — no rain, enough breeze…. Hours can feel like minutes…. On and on and on and on until midnight. Whispered to myself.) Cinderella has to go home, my friend. Or else, she will be back to be Cendrillon.

been there done that and not anymore

SO: I feel so much better. It feels like I find myself again. Maybe I was too preoccupied with not important things that I thought I lost the person I had known so long, myself.

Me: I might be like that in the same situation, maybe worse.

SO: Thank you very much.

Me: (I didn’t do anything. Just sat down and listened and responded to you. Whispered to myself for how many times heaven knows) The least I can do. It is good to meet long lost friend. Welcome back.

there is always reason to be happy; make it! it takes time but your happiness is the ultimate goal of your life; self align!

Dear friend, I know you’ll read this with a smile. Get better. See you some day. When meeting me again, make sure you look nicer.

Lesson learnt: Be patient with those facing fresh-from-the-oven problem. Don’t judge. Be a good listener. Don’t try to be a perfect advisor because you are not. Be yourself. Don’t get offended, someone in trouble may unintentionally disturb you.

Wedded

When two are wedded,
The rest are singing, wishing
Brighter days and nights.

I attended my nephew’s wedding matrimony today. Mike looked stunning, and so did Vera.

Hearing their wedding vows was mixture of fun and heartwarming feelings — two poles apart met by destiny. 💝

Tante Rike happy for you, Mike
😘😘😘😘😘😘😘
congrats, Mike and Vera! 😘
💝
😘💝😘

Journey

Journey to the self
Takes a long and winding road,
Worth doing. Half done—

Human beings’ journey to understand one’s self is often unpredictable. I never wanted to visit Mecca and Medina yet because of my devotion to a mother, I agreed to go to ensure that she was safe and healthy. And the result was tremendous evolution of self. 💝

To Ibu: I miss you much today 😘

Alfatihah

Masjid Nabawi (Mosque of Prophet) in Medina — where I started strongly realising that there is a journey —a silent one— that I must commit 💝 someday I’ll be back with a clearer mind and a calmer heart yet the same level of “disobedience” and stubbornness 😁
where I witnessed how a human being’s karma is overtly paid off and showing the quality of a person visiting this place – my mother is a humble, kind and very very generous person and in this place she was greeted by sooo many female pilgrims from other countries, requested to take picture together, given a looooooooooot of food every day, given space once arriving in the mosque (her friends in her group were not that much) – me? oh of course she introduced me as her daughter cum translator and then was included in all her blessings 😝
the only person who could move my heart to finally go – thank you, Ibu; might not be a happy ending for me but was a best start of a journey 💝

where my heart was knocked from inside that the journey is within and silent, a precious gift — the physical is a gift wrap to respect whomever we wish 💝 (Masjidil Haram, Mecca)
a life long pilgrimage of mine 💝 a private, silent, almost secretive so only I and whom I most love know the milestones 💗 others are guessing and interpreting 🙏🏼

Desperate Lovers

Midnight is calling
With blaring sound in the aisle.
Desperate lovers—

Suddenly very loud voice of (maybe) two lovers walking down the aisle outside the hotel room laughing interrupted my sleep, and so interrupted my nightmare. Thank you and at the same time damn you!

Beloved, please send me back to slumberland again. 👀

❤️‍🩹

people say love is the answer but to me it is of too many unknown factors and elevations; too many assumptions and prejudices; why don’t people just say NO much earlier instead of vaguely communicating through codes and misleading messages – be free, desperate lovers, I am irrelevant to you
I just need a simple equation where only one unknown factor needs solution; this is my compatibility definition: simplicity, sincerity and trust; you are too good to be true; if you agree, set me free

Banksy

One of my dreams that might never come true is meeting Banksy. It doesn’t matter, not all dreams come true; some are dangling in my hair beautifully visiting me every night.

God bless Banksy for his inspiration on love and peace.

I’ve printed many of Banksy’s works and here are some of my favourite.

Banksy

Friendship

Hello, dear friendship.
This ship is sailing smoothly,
Storms don’t ruin our cruise.

Four are (fake) backpackers. One is (true) camper. We all sail together in a ship called friendship.

Alfatihah.

💝

a visit to a best friend’s youth center, this woman dedicates her life to accompany those needing support; the main house is for the classes, sitting room and kitchen; the front is a pendhopo for bigger discussion group plus tiny senthong for library
a visit to a best friend, a Javanese dancer cum lecturer, the wife of a late most well-known puppeteer in the country and the mother of a most sought-after teenage puppeteer in the island 💝 god bless her and family 💗 dear photographer, why do you always block me in group selfie? 🙃
Yuki after playing with my dress 😍 hey, you’ll meet a vet , you’d better watch out 😁

Green Backyard

The green yard behind
Is where greets and smiles soft-land
On the plate and glass.

Jiwa Jawi’s my backyard – found that the owner is a good friend of my best friend’s. she briefed me about the environment and seems that i can only raise cats, not dogs 😁
torch ginger aka kecombrang one of the major herbs grown within Jiwa Jawi, the more than 15,000sqm-garden-home
iga sapi bumbu rujak, lunch today 😘
with neighbours to be after 6-hour chat filled with warmth laughter and experience sharing 💝 I humbly thank you!

Mother’s Story

Tragic is comic
After fermentation time.
Dark jokes bring bright joy.

We always remember how our father loved our mother. He liked giving gifts to her and doing household chores like cleaning the floor and doing heavy laundry. Yet he also enjoyed teasing my mother around; his goal was to make her angry just to show that he was good at calming her down. 😂 Yet his strong affection to our mother did one extreme discomfort to her and some of us.

This morning my older siblings asked mother to re-tell a story that we the younger don’t record well as we were too young to save the moment. While they laughed before she started telling the story, we three waited curiously.

Mother: Once I went with my friend to a beauty parlour. She wanted to have her hair cut.

Younger children: With whom?

Mother: (mentioning a name that we are familiar with)

All children: (commenting about mother’s friend who happened to be a very fashionable woman at that time)

Mother: She said that I should have my hair made curly or at least wavy so I could look different. I said no because I should get permission from your father. But you know her, she was able to convince me to do it.

All children: (laughing and commenting about the lady who spent money like she would die today. Mother said that woman got much money from ex husbands so she deserved to do it.) So, curled or waved?

Mother: Medium curled

Older children: (laughing and commenting how she looked fresh but weird as we had never had anyone with curly hair in the family before)

Mother: When I reached home, your father seeing me with curly hair looked surprised. I thought it would be a terrific moment but then it changed to one terrible day. He was so angry, never before he became that angry.

Older children: Ya, I was shocked. Never saw him like that before—

Mother: I was not shocked with his reaction but the next action of his was a biggest discomfort in my life. He said he wanted to make the hair look better which I thought minor trimming and he took a pair of scissors.

Older children: I didn’t expect that to happen. He cut most of the curly hair and only left the one with very vague curls near the headskin. You were almost bald! (laughing) You became so not you.

Me: (upset) Why did’t you run to hide and protect your hair?

Older children: Hey! Don’t be too serious. He didn’t hurt her.

Me: But he hurt her pride! I won’t let my hair be screwed up by anyone.

Older children: I remember mother sobbed and I screamed to father to stop. He didn’t do it harshly, but I felt worried about her sobbing.

Me: Damn wrong thing! I never knew he would have this in the checklist.

Mother: No worry. He regretted and apologized on the same day. And trust me it was the only one bad thing he did to me. He said he didn’t want me to draw attention of other men.

Older children: Jeeeaaaalousy! We know some other things about his jealousy! You should tell more stories.

Mother: I think it was the best lesson for him about how he should not be too possessive.

All children: Yaaa!!! Agree!

Older children: Do you remember that you turned to be a better fashionista than her. I remember you wore turban and sometimes wigs.

Mother: Yes. And I guess he regretted it even more as I asked for different wigs and turbans until my hair was good enough to show.

What a comedy! Oops! What a tragedy turning to comedy after some time!

Lesson learnt: choose the best expression of love to avoid bad impression, don’t have your hair curled 😁, find a husband who doesn’t hate curly hair 😁, forgive your husband’s wrong expression while educating him, and see a comedy in a tragedy

Good Age

How good is friendship?
As good as age of a friend
Whose food transforms taste.

cakwe, elementary school snack served in style
onde-onde, never getting bored of it 💝
six of “avengers” but only three were available this time – when we were young, we counted the price tags; now we count the limits and portions of cholesterol, sugar, salt, red meat, blah blah blah while saying “aaah this one is good!” 😁

Good Roots

Good roots are strong roots
Supporting those on the soil.
They won’t be betrayed.

This trip is incredibly beautiful. Meeting best friends is more than anything. We talk. We laugh. We eat. We visit places. We engage with people.

One of my best friends who will be my neighbour in my humble abode is one of best human beings I’ve ever known. She lives to humbly serve humanity. She dedicates her life to help the underprivileged. She is so patient about what others do to her and always in understanding mode. She is so passionate in doing what she is doing to help others.

Among all her non profit projects that are my favourite is opening library in a small village that is functioning as youth center at the same time and supporting buruh gendong (traditional female labours who are paid to carry things either by sellers or buyers in Yogyakarta traditional markets, most of them are senior) in some traditional markets in Yogyakarta. If time allows me to live as long as I wish, our agreement is I will teach free classes of English, Japanese, leadership and management system in her youth center, while occasionally going with her from one market to another to greet the buruh gendong. Yet as an artist she is also teaching (mostly) women on how to make artistic products for sale to support themselves financially.

In this trip we discuss a lot about what we should do to ourselves and others but we can’t because of immovable blockages. We also talk about how we can feel good no matter bad a situation is. We talk about what will happen if the youth are not aware of what lies in their future at the same time we concern about how children around us get mature faster than we did before. And all always last long although with only a glass of tea, a cup of Javanese coffee and some pieces of local snack.

Life is too precious to focus on what doesn’t serve us good anymore. Life is too short to lament of any loss that is truly never loss. Life is too grand to just be sad of how that that we love disrespects us. Life is just too beautiful to consider what is not real.

So thankful for how real my best friends are in helping others. So thankful to be part of their spirit. So thankful that we are ordinary people in this grand life. So thankful that we are a grain of sand in the vast shore. So thankful that we accept who we are. So thankful that we are strong roots for each other.

Thank you, dear friend. It is good to always have a question “so what is our plan and action?” 💝

Alfatihah.

two women and clay jars – RC Gorman’s work of art

My Mother Said

My mother said
You were a cute baby
Even when crying.

My mother said
You were a beautiful toddler
Running around,
Bubbling all words.

My mother said
You were a cheerful girl
Cycling around
Climbing up trees
Playing drowning in the river.

My mother said
You were a beautiful woman
Arguing every ideas from me
Showing me your strong desires
Moving to where life brought us.

My mother said
You are an adult woman
Enjoying life differently from me
Giving me what you’ve promised to be
Loving what you love with no doubt
Living life with smiles and warm heart.

My mother said
I love you
I bless you
Wherever you are.
You’re loved
You’re blessed
However you are.

My mother called, we laughed a lot today. She said I laughed as I did when I was a baby. How happy I have been to be her daughter. Lots of hugs and kisses, Ibu.

Alfatihah.

💝

RC Gorman’s Mother and Baby

A Path

A path to a place
Is walked through trees and uphills.
A meadow is waiting
Opening another path
To a warm home filled with love.

My friend sent me three photos of our beloved “simbah” (those senior people who are considered wise or those who have grandchildren) – Javanese). Most people call these simbah “batik maker” because they make batik to earn a living. We both call them “batik artist”. More than that through what we’ve seen and heard about them, we’ve considered they are artists of their life. How they embrace their humble life gracefully and consciously has always amazed both of us. They live like calm river flowing to the sea. They don’t struggle against what others think about or do to them. They live as if there is no hindrance and disturbance in life.

When my friend told me some things about those three honourable ladies, I secretly harvested some lessons. It is very critical reminder for me who is still very much attached to a feeling of (accidentally) underestimated and (slightly) humiliated because of one petty case. These three artists of life have silently told me to let go.

What a loud shot in a quiet weekend!

No apology is needed. All is gradually let go through my own wish and willingness. This is my life and I only want to be the artist of my own life. 💝

Thank you, artists of life. You’re blessed. 💝

Salaam.

Mbah Suhir, 93 years old 💝 matur sembah nuwun
Mbah Erah, 87 years old 💝 matur sembah nuwun
Mbah Isah, 82 years old 💝 matur sembah nuwun

Impressed (ranting)

Life is so rich that very very few of disappointments to those sitting on top of the political “food chains” are left un-healed. There are always rising young nationalist scholars in non political fields that give us the people hope at least to this nation to just stand up dignified not enslaved by foreign monsters anymore.

I wish to live long enough to see those young scholars successfully materialise their dreams at the same time continue their journey as Indonesians no matter how much others pull them out from this mother land. God bless you, dear young scholars! Know your root. Love your tree. Bloom flowers. Yield good fruits in your strong boughs! You’ve impressed us with your intelligence. Impress us with your loyalty to the nation.

Right or wrong my country? Hmmm…. There will be time for that! For now, pretty or ugly my country. 🙃

New week is gonna be more energized!

Salaam.

thank you, Driando! I will love tempe(h) more and more!
hey! tempe is good but burnt tempe is ummm 🙃