Niko Belic stares into the guts of another upturned car, a glancing realisation in the futility of it all– life, mortality and being stuck in a computer game. It’s 4AM.
<a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/sunnybreaks/4779363203/” title=”IMG_5270 by esquimauxpie, on Flickr”><img src=”http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4093/4779363203_0ffd6c614e.jpg” width=”500″ height=”281″ alt=”IMG_5270″ /></a>
I went with a friend to the national guitar emporium and realised there are other kinds of stringed instruments there too. He is nutty about ukuleles as I normally am about guitars. We went to all the same shops I got to to look at guitars and they had ukes there. I’d never noticed before. They just looked like toy things getting in the way of the real thing. I can appreciate that he really digs the uke, and can play Cold Chisel songs on them, among other things, but they still look frustratingly small to me. Can’t really wail on em.
<a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/sunnybreaks/4779999486/” title=”IMG_5274_2 by esquimauxpie, on Flickr”><img src=”http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4142/4779999486_0625f1c347.jpg” width=”500″ height=”375″ alt=”IMG_5274_2″ /></a>
I went to Ah myeon do last weekend with the g/f. It’s a small island in the west sea. It’s connected by road and bridge so it didn’t really feel like an island. The weather was bright, grey and misty. The lack of impression that the place made on me is reflected in how few fotos I took. Here is one of a rice field:
<a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/sunnybreaks/4780001890/” title=”IMG_5278 by esquimauxpie, on Flickr”><img src=”http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4117/4780001890_cff4aff52d.jpg” width=”500″ height=”375″ alt=”IMG_5278″ /></a>
After posting that last foto and explanation of Korean food a while back I found that it looks rather unappealing, or more to the point, there’s quite a bit of technique involved in photographing food well. Here is another foto of food that surely won’t make anyone hungry, the only difference here being that I cooked it — a thai curry of sorts.
<a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/sunnybreaks/4779364445/” title=”IMG_5272 by esquimauxpie, on Flickr”><img src=”http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4101/4779364445_907d66f130.jpg” width=”500″ height=”375″ alt=”IMG_5272″ /></a>
This was the first time I’d bought fully raw big-size prawns from the supermarket and cooked them. I was going to write a poem about how in life, prawns are an ugly dell grey colour, but in death thru cookery, they attain a brilliance and vibrance and colour that they never would have dreamt they were capable. It’s beautiful like a sunset. I was going to write a story about the recollection of a dream that I had fiction-ally had about reciting the poem spontaneously at the recent end-of-semester teacher’s luncheon, and how I was abducted by giant, sentient, space prawns who taunted me, twisted my head off, removed my ridiculous interno-skeleton in a messy way before they could finally dine of the delicious flesh, of which there was surprisingly little.