To my humble abode.
May you sit,
There is chair to enjoy.
May you stand,
There is painting to enjoy.
This lobby,
A place for every guest
To enjoy the best spread
Of food and beverage.
My kitchen
Is not,

Welcome, fellow travelers.
Leave when your storm ends.


My best friends once reminded me of how I should be afraid of being misunderstood and my response to them was “I am ok to be misunderstood by those who don’t have enough knowledge and/or love to understand who I am and what I am doing.”

They still say the same thing in different ways. I answer the same way.

Thank you.



How are you, dear white?
Everything looks bright on white.
It’s clear on itself.


a white mug with ginger & honey tea 💝 get drunk with it and make all work excellent! ☺️

sterilised or warmed? whatever! loving warm white mug in my hand 💕

this champion is quiet when working and resting unlike me talking at work snoring at sleep 🥶

parrrtyyy! no, no, not my party; it belongs to one favourite cleaning lady

Pak Gita & Ibu Karlina Supelli

Thank you, Pak Gita for inviting Ibu Karlina Supelli. Just so thankful for listening to her lectures virtually since my young age 🙏🏼

This humble lady has made me realise that all is about being human.

Terima kasih, Ibu Karlina.

You are blessed.

astronomer, philosopher, human right fighter

Pigeon Orchids

Like pigeon
But not flying,
It spreads fragrance
Along the road I am on everyday.
This sense is trained
To breathe scent.
I am walking
Like pigeon.


all these years i thought only this tree is where my favourite pigeon orchid “lives”

i thought only this cluster!

even this morning i thought only this one! i kissed these

walking to the bus stop, i saw a lot more! on that tree across the street

in the tree ahead of me!

in another tree!

and another tree!

then i started seeing the pigeon orchids in almost all of trees along my favourite road! i am so blessed!

Water In Me

I’m water 
Humble enough to mold myself
To this pitcher.
This life’s a pitcher
Kind enough to tilt herself
To the river.

I’m water
Flowing by myself
In myself to the sea.
This’s the strongest soft
With what this rocky heart
Gets shaped through time.


water: naturally willing to be shaped, spiced up, scented, coloured, treated by temperatures — matured through stories 😃

Dreams, Given Up?

Is she giving up?
She’s waiting for the right time.
Just another leap—



played Coldplay all day today as if their concert is happening in my living room 😁

gave up the queue because my medical treatment on May 19 was much more important; if i am healthy, i still can work to earn money for the next concerts somewhere else 🙏🏼 happy watching, all ticket war winners! you deserve your strategy whatever it was


Are the beats in my heart.
Whereabout your heart
Am I in?

Are the water of a vase.
Whereabout your vase
Am I of?

Are the -ness at my nothing.
Whereabout your thing
Am I at?

There is silence,
And it answers me through.
I am nowhere about

when the water is gone, all is dead only dried leaves and air 🙏🏼


A background
Is redone.
A painting
Is restarted
And again
And again.
Maybe one morning
She will restart
One more
And finally get it done.
There is peeping light
Highlighting the canvas
Glowing with a new story
Sweeter to tell.


i don’t know when this work is going to complete – it is constantly a new start because of the artist’s unprofessional insecurity

the recipient is impatiently waiting, a deadline must be set — ok, ok 🙏🏼

What Does Happiness Do To Them

Pak Gita in a compilation of what scholars and wise people say about happiness — some in Indonesian, some in English

Thanks for summing up. Thanks for inspiring. Thanks for living in the same era with me.

I think I can’t be more blessed to be reborn human being in this period of time as I am now.

May all beings be happy.

Thank you, Pak Gita! 🙏🏼


Essentially pure?
None. No distiller’s perfect
But time. Refining—

Smell might be my strongest sense. It gives me both pleasant and not so pleasant experiences in life. To share the experiences is of course an ultimate goal, yet it takes time to materialise it.

To start

Have you smelled the earth wetted by rain water?

Have you smelled the grass cut in the morning, noon and afternoon?

Have you smelled your parents’ clean clothes?

Try those and you’ll be amazed with the sensation brought to you.


goal: to distill essential oils for myself and those around me — this is gonna be a read-it-when-i-want-it book


A basket of fresh
Turns into a jar of fresh
For mind to refresh.

from this — pomelo, pineapple, mango, apple, rose apple and pomegranate

to this

added with this — not so spicy this time

both mixed into this — 45 minutes of washing, peeling, cleaning, grating fruit + grinding the palm sugar

this final packed fresh — one week + 2 days’ morning grated fruits

Wish You Win! (sharing)

I give up the war before I fight, that’s probably the best description about my response to the Coldplay’s Indonesia Concert ticket war on May 19.

It is a working day although coincidently I am taking a leave on that day; however, it is a medical leave to meet the specialist and receive regular medical treatment in the hospital. 🙃

I can just say May All Beings Be Happy. All the ticket war fighters to win their strongest wish!

I wish to watch them somewhere else or most preferably in England or Spain someday! Please long life for that. Yaaay!!! 🥰

Good luck, fighters! I am praying for us all!


who doesn’t like a humble person? two of them are and so i love them both 💝

May I?

May I
Sing a sweet song
Under glowing stars shooting
To leave their age?

May I
Sit silently
Under a quiet dusk rolling
To welcome dawn?

May I
Count the sheep
Under a dreamy night shining
To light a hope?

May I?


may I eat gyoza? left over from last batch — so pleasing to eat my own food, almost like heaven 😁

The Humble Sweet

What a sweet mango!
What a sweet cake!
What a sweet memory!
What a sweet day!
What a sweet life!


Conversation continues

A: What is taste of life?

B: It is just like when you taste the food.

A: But why do you use the word sweetness? Why not bitterness?

B: Because I want to focus on things sweet.

A: So I can focus on the bitterness of life?

B: As you wish. Isn’t that what you are doing now? And so life is never light for you?

A: But life is truly bitter!

B: Without anything sweet? Even a slight sweetness?

A: There are times of sweetness but the concentration is very low.

B: Who decides the concentration?

A: Of course I do!

B: So why don’t you lower down the concentration of bitterness and add up the concentration of sweetness?

A: How?

B: Observe. Find the bitter. Find the sweet. Every moment you are alone. Send love to both the bitter and the sweet in you. Tell them you thank them.

A: That’s it?

B: For now.

this tiny choco nougat cake is blessed for my late father’s belated birthday — the sweet taste is for me today 😝

Red Carnation

She’s strong
She’s fragile
She’s tough
She’s soft
She’s wordy
She’s taciturn
She’s generous
She’s jealous
She’s protecting
She’s weakness
She’s missed
She’s avoided
She’s mature
She’s spoiled
She’s simple
She’s intricate
She’s narrow
She’s wide
She’s shallow
She’s deep
She’s wicked
She’s kind
She’s black
She’s white
She’s every angle of life
She’s my mother,
Red carnation in one beautiful afternoon.


Happy Mother’s Day, Ibu

I sent a message to my mother today to wish her happy mother’s day with a picture of red carnation attached.

Ibu: Thank you! Isn’t mother’s day Dec 22?

Me: Yes, in Indonesia. May 14 internationally.

Ibu: Nice! You send me another mother’s day wish again next Dec ya.

Me: No worry, it’s just a message. Easy! (then I called her as my fingers complained long messages)

Ibu: Not that easy, baby. Send me some tea and herbs, too.

Me: It doesn’t have to wait until Dec.

Ibu: Thank so much. Did you forget May 12 is Bapak’s birthday?

Me: Of course not! I just didn’t buy a cake, very busy wis some back to back agenda. I bought mango and still eat it until today.

Ibu: Although his body is not here, he is always with us. You pray for him right?

Me: Always, everyday I pray for him, my one and only father. I will buy a cake tomorrow.

Ibu: Ok, small one is good enough.


carnation is about mother

Woodpecker’s Messages

She has heard bird news,
Sending messages
Through Morse Code.
Dots, dashes, spaces—

She has heard numbers, words, punctuations,
Telling stories
About no hope.
Acceptance, letting go, moving on—

She has heard songs, poems, winds,
Springing in heart
Warmly and gently.
Future is brighter only with clarity.

She has heard a woodpecker
Reminding her of signals and signs
In every dance of nature
To be enjoyed and understood.

She has heard of you
Giving blocks and traps
To redirect her to her own path
To happiness.

She has heard of heaven
Approving whatever she’d do
As long as she’s happy and safe
Without disturbing life.

She has heard
Dews imbuing morning to refresh,
Twilight whispering night to rest.
Life is truly a woodpecker’s Morse Code.

She has heard
And she closes her eyes,
But not ears
As long as she’s happy and safe.

Thank you, Michael Lai for again allowing me to use your poetic pictures to illustrate a poem of mine that has been poking me since forever. 🙏🏼

Bay Woodpecker Pecking a Hole in the Tree (4 Photos)

Happy Birthday!

What is age, dear love?
Pearls of memories of you
Shining in my mind.


May 12 is my father’s birthday. He was born in 1939 but his physical body died years ago leaving memories about him.

Happy birthday, Bapak. May you be reborn a happy one wherever you are.


mango was his favourite — i’ve eaten mango for 3 days to celebrate his birthday 😀 no cake this year as I prioritised my time for something more important; sorry, Bapak 😘