Today I bought a picture book during my lunch break at work.

As I walked back into the shop, everyone asked what was in the bag. Naturally. So I showed them.

They looked at me weirdly.I looked back.

They asked me how much. I told them the price.

They looked at me incredulously. I shrugged.

The picture book I am talking about is "The Arrival" by Shaun Tan. Now it's no secret that I'm a massive Shaun Tan fan. His stories are always so absorbing. His illustrations emotive and so damned imaginative that, despite how cliche this sounds, they take you to another place altogether. I would give almost anything to be able to see the world through his eyes...or to be able to explore his mind. "The Arrival" is a particularly meaningful book for a few reasons.


Firstly, I guess it's because I was a migrant too and, despite the vast differences between my experiences and that of the protagonist, I could empathize with him. In leaving one home for another there is always a sense of loss. Coupled with hope and a thinly veiled feeling of dread. All of which are bundled messily in a wad of excitement. This book, despite it's lack of words (or perhaps due to it) is able to convey all of this.

Secondly, "The Arrival" (amongst a few others) served as a source of inspiration for the duration of my final year of high school. I don't think I could have been pushed to finish my Art and English major works had I been unaware of this book. Graphically, it is pure genius. Pretty and soft yet fittingly dramatic and alien. In terms of narrative, it has the things that all successful stories contain: A character who is real, a place which is removed from its readers' immediate realities and subplots which are intriguing in their own rights.

I bought a picture book today.

It cost me $43. I don't regret it one bit.

*photos of my some of favorite pages from "The Arrival" to come later.

x

Reading: Vanity Fair (again)
Listening to: Vincent by Don McLean.

'the gift of song'

To You

Dear you,


It's truly amazing how one conversation could change your mood.

An hour's worth of words to reconnect with something that makes you feel like yourself. Something that restores the value which you place on your being.

Thank You for allowing me to have that conversation. I know it wasn't easy for you.

I'm always here.

Love you.


x


Dear You,


Here's to that new found facet in our 'connection'. I like the ease that comes with it all. The lack of guilt. Embarrassment.

Most of all I like the simplicity.

See you soon.


x


Dear You,


Pretty sure you don't like this subject...but let's do a little mathematics.


You + Me = Chemistry.


You + Me = A strangely harmonious cacophony.


You = Inspiration. Laughter


My Life - You = Humdrum.


You > all your enemies


As cliche as it sounds... Don't ever let them get to you.


x


Dear You,


I'm sorry for all the things I've done.

Sorry for making you cry.

And keeping you up at night.

And slamming doors.

And scowling every time I see your face.

I'll say I'll try to change. I say that I know.

This time it's for real.

Love,

Carla Marie

Feel

It starts with a sense of uneasiness.


Then pain.


It is brushed off.


It is the consequence of many trivial things.


You say.


It persists.


A shift.


Then another.


Before.


Realization.


The heartbeat quickens. A ba-dump ba-dump ba-dump that resonates through your chest.


Your ears.


Your wrists.


Your head.


All the way to the soles of your bare feet.


Annoyance.


Reason.


Acceptance.


Defeat.


The sense of uneasiness grows with the anticipation.

Damn

Listening to: My neighbor's garage band

Feeling: Satisfied yet uneasy


Let's hug?

Epiphany

I went to Mass today and found out that it was "Epiphany Sunday"...and it was.


Today I




... realized that in the past 3 days I had gotten
much better at avoiding it.



... was educated on the fact that people complain
about petrol costing $1+ per liter yet consider
paying $2.50 for a 600ml bottle of water the norm.



... saw the other side of the story



... saw a glimpse of a friendship that I'd gotten so close to losing, just because I refused to take
off my rose tinted glasses



... rediscovered the value of a silent room at dusk.