a truth

i value memories. // as cliché as it sounds, our memories are our greatest treasures. Overtime i have come to realize that everything that happens to you is a life lesson. They are what give our lives meaning. What if I never lose a football match? I won’t be as humble as today What if I never have a big-mouthed friend that can’t keep secrets? I won’t see trust as a big deal today What if my mom never act like a close minded person? I won’t be as open minded as today What if dad never get angry with me because I hate to take pictures? I won’t smile at the camera like I do today What if I never fell in love with a douchebag? It won’t be as picky as today when it comes to guys. What if I never feel heartbroken? I won’t take me long to trust my feelings to a guy. I won’t be the girl I am now without things that had happened in the past; things that has become memories. Consequently, i started to value memories, even the painful ones :) // “we take photos as a return ticket to a moment otherwise gone” Ever wonder why I love to take photos? Even when we’re just hanging out to an indecent place? I wasn’t looking for the aesthetic/cool photos or the ‘instagram-worthy’ photos. I was just capturing moments I could scroll through and reminisce maybe a year or ten from the day I took the photo. I take photos to recall - with greater vibrancy - those experiences that have shaped and made me. I take photos to bridge distance and turn back time, to lend legacy to the little things and life to the forgotten. For me, a photo is indeed more than just a picture in your gallery, it has a story if you try to see close enough. I got this from my dad. He always takes photos every now and then, especially on family trips and family gatherings. He told me he preferred the candid moments, not the photos taken intentionally (the object posing and smiling to the camera). I had asked why, and he said that if you take a picture intentionally, you don’t get to feel the truth of the moment happening at that time. I saw the pictures taken by my dad, it were not aesthetical, not decent as it lacked the quality of a good photograph. But the moment was indeed, successfully recorded. He used to show me pictures by pictures of my childhood, telling me the stories behind them. As a little girl, I used to hate people taking pictures of me; It was annoying for me that I won’t smile to the camera. But dad kept taking photos of me. Then there was this one time when he said, “Papa selalu kemana-mana fotoin kamu, pipin, biar nanti kalian pas udah gede kalo liat foto kecil kalian pasti ketawa deh ganyangka dulu waktu kecil bisa kaya gitu. Sayangnya dulu waktu papa kecil oma sama opa gapunya kamera, pas papa kuliah juga gapunya yang namanya kamera, namanya orang susah tan. Jadi papa gabisa liat foto-foto kecil papa kaya kamu kamu sekarang. Sekarang mah udah enak, uda ada kamera, uda ada hape, untuk foto tuh gampang. Makanya kamu kalo kemana mana foto sebanyak mungkin, nanti kalo udah gede liat foto-foto jaman dulu pasti seneng,” From that time, I took photos everywhere I went, feeling blessed to have the advantage of owning a camera, thanking heavens for giving me the best dad I could ever asked for.

// For you guys who saw me collecting a bottle of sand when we went to a beach, who saw me picking a flower when we went to a mountain, who saw me keeping a pine seed when we went to the forests, I’ll tell you why I did those things despite the saying “take nothing but pictures, leave nothing but footprints, kill nothing but time” which I am aware of. Sometimes people asked me why I took those things and I would just say “gapapa, iseng aja”. It was because some people won’t understand even if I explain them my whole point, so I choose to go with the simplest way. My apologies for those of you who I had given the simple answer, now you know the truth. Those thing I collect is a little piece of the place I visit; Memories of the place, the moments, and the people-- including you if you’re there with me. it's not just the memory itself I cling to, actually, it’s the emotions it evokes and remember how a certain place, person or day made me feel. Have been doing this since junior high though, i always bring home a bottle of sand from every island I visited in Pulau Seribu back then. Until now, actually. I would move them to a more decent mini bottle, wrote a short description about the location and the memorable moment, then lined them up on my shelves. 10 years from now, i could see them, re-read, and reminisce. I could imagine myself smiling at the memories while sharing the stories to my future husband and families, and to whoever wanted to know the stories behind the little pieces I collected.

// Last but not least, maybe some of you doesn’t understand why I make a big deal out of memories. But a friendly reminder to you guys, just try to value them, trust me, you won’t regret itJ ​