:: timeless coffee ::

time flies, huh?
i don't know what to make out of the time off i got
i think i said and did a lot of regretful things
but i don't really need time off to accomplish that, do i?
maybe, just maybe, i might have wasted precious time.

"just what did you do, trish?"
well, i went and got myself some fruitful moments.
...unknowingly.

upped me self on a couple of skills,
new relationships, renewed relationships
went places foreign to the eye and heart…
…learnt the more i sleep, the bigger a migraine i'll get
[i already knew this, but... it's sleep, y'all!]

pray tell,
what's beyond the horizon?
will time be used more wisely?
gee, can't give you my word on that.

Think i'll do my best to treat time like a cup of coffee.

Drink it hot, but don’t rush it
Not only will I miss out of enjoying the moment
But I may end up burnt

I’m gonna hold the cup in both hands
Yet sometimes when it gets too hot,
I’ve gotta wise up and let go a hand...sometimes both
Place that cup down and think
Reflect on that particular sip.

And without much indication,
Someone will come and stop by my table
Dollop a generous amount of whipped cream into my cup.

And oh joy!
That’s when I’m reminded
Who makes and gives the best cup of coffee.

:)

:: love ::

purposely blurred shot of my butterfly & pink paper, off from my very first digicam, babyG3

On a day like this, butterflies flutter in stomachs and hearts beat fast.
On a day like this, the word ‘love’ is the world’s loudest whisper.
On a day like this, I should feel alone and left out.
...But I don’t.

I know Valentines is for people who have a lover.
...But I do!!

I know.
You’re like, “huh?”

See, he wrote me a whole book of love notes.
He wrote of how he loves me so much, it took a great sacrifice for him to get my attention and yes, even of his jealousy when I give my love to someone other than him.

So. What’s his view on love?

If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing. Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. 1 Corinthians 13 : 1-7

another shot of my lil butterfly... yes, i'm that much of a girl

Happy Valentines Day 2008 to everyone
Remember, you deserve only the very best!

:: i will stand tall ::

On the road for the customary Chinese New Year visiting, saw this tree and mom asked if I wanted to stop and get a snap of it. Not feeling up to leaving the air-conditioned car and walking across the busy road, I declined.

But as we drove further from it, something tugged at my heart.

Later, i came face-to-face with it.

Just been feeling rather discouraged. Can’t really express it but this tree is like a physical representation.

“It’s dead. Nothing can be done about it” is how I tend to feel. Striving too hard and sometimes not striving at all tends to leave you nowhere but dry. I guess it’s the same when you over analyze yourself as a person; counting every single lack, every single weakness.

But then I thought of its roots. It’s the one thing keeping it standing. Yes, you cannot deny it is dead. But there is still some form of life going on. One day that tree may be removed, but you cannot fully remove its roots for they have found their way into places we cannot see.

The roots go deeper.

Though the life within me
Has lost all its reasons
I will still stand tall.
I am rooted in the faith
That You are ever still
The God of all circumstances

:: you speak ::

they say a brand name speaks a lot. it's either a good one, or a bad one; it either sticks with ya, or it just fizzes and dies. i've been thinking about this and wondered what would really work for me. a friend commented that using my full name is too much of a mouthfull. i just thought it'd be more unique and like, what chances are there of another with the exact full name? and i personally do like the look of the whole name.

back in high school, i used to go with 'God inspired' when i used to do a lot more hand crafts. that name means a lot to me because i personally know that whatever ideas i had/did was all inspired by Him, and i want to openly give Him the credit. i'd like to think of a name which i can use for both my crafts and photography. 'inspired' was my utmost favourite till i saw a shoppe using it already (wasn't very unique to begin with). it's not a light discussion. but, it's something i have to personally think of lah.

but for now, on my name being too long and stuff, i thought you peeps out there would have some kick-ass suggestions. this will be a temporary post till i finally decide. feel free to leave comments. so, let's hear 'em.

oh, and thanks in advance, yo!

:: silenced fireworks ::

What is Chinese New Year without the fireworks? What is any celebration without the fireworks? Unfortunately, the past few years have seen me dreading the hour when the entire neighbourhood comes too much alive.

Not only do I think that fireworks pollute the air at the expense of our human money, the sounds are horrible!

I dislike those fireworks that seem to yell like banshees on its way up into the sky. This year I heard a new one; a male banshee – if it’s even possible. It’s so horrifying, it’s almost like I’m living in an x-file movie.

Another reason I feel dislike for fireworks is the fact that it’s so noisy and loud, I wonder how poor mothers of infants have to sooth the cries of their little ones. And for animal lovers like myself, I cannot help but feel for the stray animals who cannot understand what is happening.

My two cats at home are terrified of the loud explosions that they run around the house looking for shelter. No matter what we say or do, they will be so terrified I feel like screaming at my neighbours to stop.

Aside all this, I do like looking at fireworks. If only they came without sound, it’d be perfect. At any rate, I still go out each year to check them out and take some snaps. These are unedited, silent recaps of what I saw this Chinese New Year.

this wasn't even a red colored firework but the sky just turned that shade. didn't touch up any colors in photoshop, this is really what happened. notice the telephone wires got in the way. din wan to edit them out, i may spoil the whole picture.

the glittery after effect of an explosion.

one of my most favourite shots of the night. i was on ground level, so the rooftops are in the way.
hah! this was how smokey my neighbourhood was...if you tell me that ain't pollution - i have nothing to say.

another after effect. looks like a flower.

urk. another wire in the way. this one looks like some underwater creature.

heh. this one reminds me of christmas.

Pray tell, fireworks are beautiful. They do add to a festive mood.

But, let’s go a little easy on the free flow, huh?

:: building it ::

Had a few girlfriends over. It was the first get together I organized at my place in a pretty long while – and I was ecstatic. Whipped up some last minute invitation cards. It was just a casual hang out, but I thought, hey, not only is it personal, but it’s something to remember the night by.

For dinner, Pal and I got together early in the afternoon to prepare the food. We didn’t have much of a schedule to follow. We just knew we wanted to be finished before the others came. We had so much to do and only 5 hours.

In two and a half, we were done.

Writing this post, I am kicking myself in the arse for not taking pictures of our cooking. I wouldn’t really say I cooked, but I was dubbed ‘Super Gravy Stirrer’ and ‘Chicken Stock Crusher’. Pal took some snaps. Will have to grab them soon. *winks*

We still had plenty of time.

“What should we do now?” I asked.
“We bake.” answered pal.
(a trishified summary of the conversation)

We b.a.k.e.d.
(notice the acronym to the word)

Both of us knew nothing much of baking. The little we had came from pal growing up with a baker for a mom, and me on my late nights watching Martha Stewart. Since pal had more hands on experience, she did the mixing of ingredients. For your information, my family doesn’t bake, so the flour was just whatever flour I saw and grabbed.

We mixed, we pressed, we laughed, we rolled and we laughed even more. It was just hilarious for the both of us to attempt something as baking. For the 11 years we knew each other, this would be one of the most real adventures we’ve had together.

Pal did her signature shapes of ‘E’ and I did whatever my shaky hands could. With the tip of rather blunt knives, we poked-poked-poked and sliced-sliced-sliced through the ‘dough’. It wasn’t easy making the curves and later gently separating the shapes from the dough.

Unaware, the clock striked 6 and the carriage turned into a pumpkin. Well, more like, we turned into two hysterical females.

Our cookies weren’t even ready to be ‘baked’ and the food needed its last touch ups.

We threw the cookies into the microwave…

(you done laughing yet?)

…and the first batch was almost entirely burnt. The second just seemed to have forgotten its sun tan lotion, and the last looked like it wasn’t even ‘baked’. We tried Martha Stewarts’ Mirangue, but, “yuck!” is all you’re going to hear about it.

The entire guests came and everyone dug into the food. People adored Pal’s cooking and our cookies were a big hit. Yup, they hit so hard they could almost break your teeth. Apparently I handed Pal plain flour; a no-no for baking. The gang laughed but were daring to eat a piece each. I think they got drunk from the first and went for more. But, really, it tasted good! Kudos to Pal.

So now we have just created cookies that exercise your jaw. Look out soon at your local store, “TriSter cookies” coming your way! So near, you wouldn’t know what hit you.

We watched Elizabethtown and my all-favourite elf guy; Orlando Bloom was as charming as ever. Apparently, he was so charming; the girls are now delusional into forgetting that he’s mine. Yes. Mine.

I'm glad they came. It was a good time to see friends whom I hardly get to see, to catch up with those I see but no time to really talk to, and of course, get to know new friends.

After all the preparations of just the initial talks of a get together to confirmations and sending invitation cards and the actual cooking, it has never brought home a truth more clearly to me than any other time in my life.

Relationships require time, effort and just giving of ourselves.

Just like the cookies. It takes energy to mix the dough and concentration to carve them into shapes. It takes patience to wait for them to bake, and even more so when they don’t turn out right. But hey, you just might reap beautiful results. Like my cookie:

It’s edible, but, still non-edible. No one gets to eat me but…me!

I was tired when everyone left. My feet ached, my back was tortured and my hands smelt badly of washing detergent. I felt like crap in my old shirt and shorts from the whole afternoon. At that moment, I had every right to be treated to the Ritz Carlton.

But why bother in the first place? Well… “I’m suffering from a rare disease and I only have 6 months to live”. Right, what a hero story that’d make. But no, seriously, should there be reason as heavy as that to meet with friends? It was just the wanting to be together, to have the company of one another and create moments.

And really, shouldn’t that be ulterior motive?

:: forgotten blessings ::

This is a little boy I met in Lospalos, East Timor during a 2week mission trip. He was so adorable. He kept following us but would not exchange a word when we tried to get to know him. You know he was smiling, but couldn’t see it with his head down in a shy bow.

Having spent time with the children there in the schools, villages, living with their families and seeing how at age 3, their daily lives take on the responsibility of one aged 9…it makes my heart ache for them and for those in the same situation around the world.

They deserve more in life. They should be wearing clothes that warm and shoes to cushion their feet as they walk to and from, up and down pebble-covered hills. They should be going to school and be allowed to express in words, drawings and speech.

A group of teen girls we spoke to shared with us that they do not get to eat everyday. When food is not on the table, they go to bed with empty stomachs, wake for school the next morning and struggle to study with uneasy stomachs. Still, even through their hard life, they have big dreams. They want to excel in their studies to get good work to help their families.

You cannot help but be inspired.

Seeing and hearing all this is like a punch to my ego. It forces parts of the me I hold so high down onto its knees. It makes me cry salty tears for my complaining lips to taste and part to hear the words, “Forgive my ignorance”.

I’ve constantly been ignorant to the blessings that have covered me, in all my unworthiness. Everyday I wake up is a blessing. The fact that I have the opportunity to study, to work towards something in life, to be given something to do, is already in itself, a blessing.

Everyone has a certain area in their life where they feel such ‘poverty’, such suffering. It may not be seen to the naked eye but I believe there is and will always be something to be thankful for.

It’s just like they say to “count your blessings”.