Prologue: Drama King, Drama Queens.

I am quite excited to post my first photoshoot in 2014!

This photoshoot is quite ridiculous for me now that I look back. I took the shoot with my aunt, Tante Dian! She is actually my bestie Merlyn's mom, but as our family has been very close, I think it is fair enough to acknowledge her as my aunt (afterall, Tante Dian is very close to my mum). The whole photoshoot was totally spontaneous; one night, Tante Dian ask me, "Are you free tomorrow? Mas Djare wants to hold a shoot with you!" Mas Djare is a friend of Merlyn's family: he is a photographer, and I knew him since we helped Merlyn's charity together last Ramadhan. I had never joined any shoot he did so of course I was completely blank of the upcoming working condition, and for God's sake he told me almost literally a night before (yet he didn't tell me the theme, only some unhelping clues)! So I tried my best to improvise the whole thing I need to prepare for the next day's occasion.

The shoot went really well, even if I still regarded it for one of the most weirdest shoot I have ever done so far! The rush, the whole improvising thing... It doesn't mean that the shoot wasn't fun. It is fun, awkwardly hilarious! Just simply summarized, nothing can beat doing photoshoot with your aunt. You have to try it by yourself to know what it's like.

The title...

Well, improvisation: The title was inspired by what Tante Dian said at the photoshoot. Mas Djare was taking a single shoot of me and she commented on my pose. "Akib was a theatre actor," she said to Mas Djare, "No wonder he can do such dramatic poses."

That comment somehow got stuck in my mind. It hit me right because somehow, rather ridiculously, I have always been such of a drama queen. It is like my whole life was a theatre performance; and more than that, I live it consciously, like I am preparing an autobiography or a biopic of me. In a certain stage of my life, I imagined my life as truly a drama film naively, made me a very mellow person. A real live, 24/7 drama queen.

But I am not ashamed of that. In an artistic context, being dramatic helps me to expand. I always like a sense of theatricality in my works; theatre helped me to expand my aesthetique taste. Theatre world even has taught me to be adaptive and quick to improvise things: it helped me to changing my skin fastly and not afraid of any makeover. There is a quotation from Erika Linder, an androgyny model, which I think relate myself very much. She said that, "I have too much imagination for just one gender." And that is myself: I have too much imagination to handle one character only. I have a lot of personalities and capabilites. Didn't mean that I have split personality disorder, still; I just love so much to not being a person who I am; or, more precisely, to live a side of my multiple, diamond like personalities. I think that also explained why I joined theatre club in my high school.

That rhetorical showed in this shoot, which one I have cut my hair to be more masculine in a more androgyny-identity finding struggle (I will post this in another time, I suppose); from the very feminine previous photoshoot of "Mars and Venus", I tried to show more masculine duality. I try to live a different aspect of my androgynism. I am experimenting.

And if those explanations didn't work, well; afterall, I have fallen in love with theatrical world since I was in elementary school, and no matter how I thrive in other subjects, I will always love theatrical performances.

Not like any prologue I have ever written, this one is perhaps the most sappy and shallow one for you, Reader. But I deliberately will excuse myself. Somehow, for me myself, this photoshoot is one of the very personal shoot for me. I think I knew the reason why at the beginning, but as the time gone, I have forgotten them, even though I could still feel the impact. But whatsoever. Sometimes, you just couldn't explain things that are very important to you, because your subsconscious wanted to keep them merely for yourself. I think that is what personal means. And I am not being dramatic in this thing.

Confidence.

#np Lorde – “Royals”.

So let me give a description of the background. We have a perfect night currently; a sunny one that you could possibly have in a rainy season; and the rain was just stopped to let the fresh breeze in and make it a perfect walk-out-hang-out-and-have-fun night! And tonight is like the busiest Saturday night that you could ever imagine: a happening jazz concert is in town, and a party organized by my department, and an event by my faculty, and a Halloween celebration in my ex-high school... In general, everybody is going out.

But here I am, sitting in front of my laptop, next to a cup of coffee, by choice.

So what’s wrong with me? Aren’t I usually become one of those first persons to come in the most happening events (totally exaggerated LOL — ed.)? Why didn’t I come to any event held tonight, while there were chances? Why did I stay at home?

Mmm... To answer...

I have been through a difficult time lately, and a real tough one this week. It is all about that single basic problem that any sophomore face: the problem of coping. Once upon a time, there was a guy who went to college so excitedly. There he learned a lot of things and, poof, suddenly what he then received was not as exciting as what he had perceived. The fact that the world is not as beautiful as he had thought for nineteen years shaked his belief and ideals. Then, there he was, an agony of disappointment, which lived the rest of his life brokenhearted, in hatred and distrust.

I need not to say who this guy was as, even though the story is a little bit blown up and a little too simplified, he was too obvious to be addressed. But, put that story aside, I spent my first three months in college trying to put my shaking feet on this unwanted, stranger's land while insincerely forced to throw away the crumbs of my previous life. Sounds depressing? Yes indeed. The level of estrangement is so damn high that it devastates me every single day. I lived my days trying to put back what is left from my destroyed nineteen years as a foundation to stand in the bewildered present environment. But you can't build a pedestal from no pebbles and there I was, sunk on gravel and mud.

Enough said, there came today. This afternoon we had a pretty heavy rain which jeopardize my plan to go out tonight which then got cancelled (sigh). But my friends keep telling me in every possible media that they were going to have fun tonight and there I was just now, feeling so fucked up...

So I said to myself, fuck the world.

Looking back on my three months in college, what did I truly seek everytime I went to study? Whenever I went to an event? Whenever I joined an activity; whenever I put my makeup on and ensembled my clothes? What motivates me? To my shame, I had no pure, sincere, morally praiseworthy motivation. I don't know the hell purpose of every single thing that I did here. I compete not to achieve, but to defeat. I study not to learn, but to win. I wear clothes not to comfort, but to hear praises. I have fun not to enjoy, but to copy a lifestyle I see in popular pages. Moreover, to live a lifestyle now I am in -- the lifestyle of my friends.

I am not saying that my friends' lifestyle is negative or somewhat; the fact is, I was just not that kind of person. I used to have purpose for every single thing -- my own purposes.  I live a life of my own for myself. I used to study to learn; compete to achieve; wear good clothes because I like to and want to; and have fun because I have no problem to not having fun. To sum up, I used to live my life lively. My life was a real fun not because I made it look like I was having fun; I am having fun.  

And somewhere in the middle of what a good friend of mine call "growing up", I lost myself. I lost my identity, ironically, in the middle of rebuilding it, in a way to adjust, in the process of making an impression. I lost the values and purposes that brought me here; my crumbs had finally crumbled. And I don't like it. It didn't make me a good person or live a good life. It is not right because it is not me. I live somebody else's life. A very personal reason, but a very strong factor indeed.

Cut short, I realized the whole thing tonight. I had a conversation with my friend Dara (which write to Tumblr linked above) which came to this fruition: Why did I want to attend the jazz concert? Do I want it because I want it? Or just to follow the common? Will I attend it if anybody else are not there?

...No. I want it because my friends are attending. I want to attend because it will be cool to be there. Because society say that the essence of Saturday night is hanging-out-till-midnight-and-have-fun-till-it-isn't-fun-anymore. Not because you are curious of the event, or want to know how it all goes, or because you love it till your core and will die if you don't go. Not even close to any of morally better reasons.

Those are lame, pathetic, unworthy, stupid and dumb, hypocritical, mass-consumed and inconfident answer to hear, aren't they?

So here I am tonight, decided not to join any event just to make a sense that I am not following anyone. I am tired of being inconfident of myself. I want to sit here in front of my beloved laptop, write something down for my beloved readers; so who cares if my friends are enjoying a party and dancing towards music out there? We all have our ways to live. I have my way to live, and to breath, and to study, and to dress up, and to have fun. Well this is my way of having fun du jour so who give a fuck to what any other people do?

I am finally come to this realization that to truly live, we have to live our own live. It is not about being individual; it is about having purposes that you understand and agree on. I know I am not the smartest student in the class; not the brightest starlet in the scene; not the wisest leader in the hierarchy — I know I am 'a nobody' and that my friends are 'a person's. But let them be. I will study for my own's sake, because I want to know and not because I have to know; so the competiton is just an icing on the cake. I will start from zero, not riding red Ferraris like the others but my own personal white Prius, meanwhile catching pictures and stop at certain points to enjoy the scenery. I will live my own life and walk my own way. That is how I have lived for nineteen years and forgotten for these three months.

To be blunt, I have finally understand what my bestfriend Arnest said to me, "...that's why I am kinda confused of you now. You are the most confident person I have ever known, but now you are inconfident of even yourself..."

Life is about being confident.

So, hello, readers, I am finally write something down for you again. I have tried to sum up what I feel whole these weeks in the simplest and shortest way. Thank you for letting me share my story to you again; I do hope it will inspires you to certain point. Well if you don't, I am sorry and you have the right to leave this page soon.

"Cause we'll never be royals, it doesn't run in our blood... That kind of luxe is not for us, we live a different kind of buzz."

Well now I need a glass of water.

Yogyakarta, November 16th, 2013.

A Short Update

I am sorry for leaving this blog for so long.

As you know, in the beginning of this semester, I have been accepted in college. Now I am studying International Relations Study in Gadjah Mada University, Indonesia. It is one of the best university in Indonesia, if I am allowed to say, so thank God for letting me study here! I am trying making my best to survive in this academically-savage environment (hashtag LOL) so I think that gives you a kind of explanation of why couldn't I write anything in this blog.

Talking about college... 

I have been going through a lot of changes, mainly deals with adapting in college life. College really is different than high school. Every single thing, suddenly, is getting serious: you are expected to be perfect so you have to be perfect, no excuses. That is what I meant with academically-savage: you fail and you will fall. Yet at the same time, you have to cope dealing with a lot of people from various backgrounds and characters. Unfortunately this is not always a pleasant thing as sometimes, their opinion are exactly your opposite, one thing that often leads you sighing and say, "I have never thought that there are such people in the world." And a whole lot of individualism. Not merely because people grown more individualist but because the studying environment in my department itself pressured you to be original and therefore, individual.

I am not saying that these things are bad as I have already accepted, since long ago, that these are things that I would deal in college; but, yes, at the beginning, these drastically different environment shocked me a lot. At certain point, this was depressing. It was actually not as horrible as it may sounds, only that it let me not to do certain things I like. Assignments, insecurity, adaptation, high-school nostalgia, they did really took my time. The fact that I could not write nor create any artistic project is the hardest thing to be coped with, in my opinion. But well, that's life, you cannot have everything you want, you have to sacrifice some. So then I chose to take it as a kind of sacrifice so things are a kind of worth it; and though I haven't been totally adapting nor coping with the hardships of college life, I think I can say that things are finally getting pretty well.

But yet I still do miss writing and artworking! So here I am finally, writing an update for you, dear Readers, simply because I couldn't bear not to write anything. I will start to write again soon (just wait for the coming posts) and currently I am working on another artistic project. I am hoping that before this month ends we will see another two art projects in this blog (yes, I am that hungry for art). We are going to work on my label, Boadicea, again this season, which is full of flowers and roses! You can start checking them out on mainly my Instagram and the newly-made Boadicea's Instagram account.

I think I have said more than I should have said, so that's it. See you really soon, Readers, I cannot wait to see you soon!

Love,

Nineteen, A Review.

I have had the time of my life.

I travelled. I achieved things. I pursued my dreams. I met new people; made some new friends. I was having fun. Looking back, for the first time in the late three years, I had a time for myself. I rediscovered myself and rebuilt new dreams.

I went to Cirebon and South Celebes. I graduated. I became the MC for 4th SEASPF International Best Practices Conference for headmasters in ASEAN and Korea. I was accepted in my dream college. I became the third best graduate in my program. I finished my Boadicea project well. I saw the real fashion backstage for the first time. I became Lady Gaga in my prom and won the best costume. I spent a lot of time with my family. I did things for myself. I had fun.

And I think, I have changed.

Travelling and escaping the routines of my life, enjoying myself for a moment, totally gave me something. In the late three years I worked, almost 24 hours a day and 7 days a week. Then, it came to me a realization: I have been overworked. Yes, I was having fun; but still, I took no rest in pursuing my targets. Even though I achieved many things from those works I had done, I neglected so many other things. I forgot my need to relax; to enjoy my time with my friend, with my family... To simply just have fun and don't care.

So I took a break, and that was it... I simply have fun...

And now I am nineteen.

It is funny how those travels and have-funs were the ones which strucked me with this realization. I have to grow up. I am not a teenager anymore; I am going to take my first steps to become a young adult. I can't just following the flows of life, take things for granted, like life is merely a game, as I have no more excuses. Being an adult, I realized, is about treating your environment with responsibility. To deal with reality; to not solely dreaming. To take care of your life, your family, your friends.

Life is not going to be easier from this point. But I know I am not moving forward if I am just standing still in fright.

So I am taking my first steps. I will take the chances and risks ahead. I am ready to work hard, to study well; to achieve many more things and accomplished many more works. I am ready to start taking my responsibilties. I know that there will always a possibility that I failed in anything I will be doing in the future; but I know that it doesn't matter for now. What important is what I am doing in the present, and it is trying. And I am eager -- and willing -- to try.

So, hello, world, and hello, nineteenth. It is nice to meet you. You see, I am still green in this business, so I will need a lot of your help and cooperation in this business. Don't worry, I am as excited as you are to work in this matter. So be good to me and may God bless us.

Yogyakarta, July 15th, 2013.

Kata Jantera Kepada Ruang.

Kata Jantera Kepada Ruang.

A Poetry.

Seandainya hati adalah lentera, maka yang aku butuhkan adalah padam dan merehatkan terang.

Aku lelah oleh nyalamu, kobarmu.

Bukan berarti kutolak cahaya; semata rasa bayangan tatkala dijilat jantera.

Aku lilin di ruang gelap. Nyalaku bukan bagi siapa-siapa. Bukan bagi lalat di tepi jendela; maupun mendung di kap lampu.

Aku jantera, menyala untuk menunggu, di lubuk kelam, di jantung senyam.

Jadi, biar kutinggal ruang ini gelap, dan meletakkan penat kobar barang sejenak...

Yogyakarta, 12 Juli 2013.

Nomophobophobia.

So I have been really uninterested in texting lately.

I had realized this for a long time. One day, a friend of mine complained to me, "Why did you never reply my texts?" I was quite stunned when she asked me this, having no idea of what to answer. Mostly because I do not think that to reply is not an obligation; it is my right not to answer. But then, her complain triggered a thinking in my mind. Why did I never reply her texts? It was not merely because my phone was not really in its good shape lately. It has been two years old and since I am not really gadget-friendly, it is an achievement that it haven't been really broken yet. But there is something more.

Contrary to most people, I am totally afraid of being addicted to gadgets. You know this phenomenon called Nomophobia, fear of losing your cellphone. Well, mine is the complete opposite; Nomophobophobia, the fear of fear of losing your cellphone. I created the term one day, when I hanged out with (another) friend of mine and she kept texting, or BBMing, in her cellphone, throughout the time.

That time, I instantly realized that I don't want to be that kind of person, who cannot get off of their cellphone nor gadgets and spend most of their time texting, gaming, chatting, tweeting, or any gadget-connected things. I do not want to always get panicked each time I left my cellphone at home, or urged to checkout my inbox every five minutes; nor feel hurried to reply each text that I receive. I do not want to be addicted to the electronics. 

I was not being naive. I dare to say this because I have gone through that phase: I used to be a cellphone addict. I can not get off of my cellphone even just for a while. I ran everytime my phone rang; to pick up a call; to answer a message. I texted everywhere, at anytime! I spend hours in my room to have chat with my friend; and spend thousands for the phone credits. I only was existed physically as my concentration was on my cellphone. I was an enslaved robot: I gave all my life, all my focus for the sake of the replying texts and updating statuses.

And it was not healthy. My mother used to complain of how I spend more time with my 'virtual' friends instead of the 'real' people around me and she was right. Slowly, I retreated from the physical world to live in the imaginary environment of signals and internet. But this world are not real: it is full of shadows and smokes.

Most things that you see in the virtual world are projections of things that its creator wanted to be seen by people. Even the nature of the virtual world are deceit. Isn't this words I typed are truly binary codes of two digits? But the machine inside has faked the ones and zeroes into a, b, c, d, and so on. Things here may seemed to be beautifully unflawed as it has been distorted to suit audience's expectations and desires. That is why in a recent academic study, scientist found that people who spend more time in the internet feels more unsatisfied with their real lives: because they can only see perfections in their virtual environment. 

Perfection will consume your heart and with it, our gratitude to life. When we see others posts, which mostly about good parts of their lives nor perfect bullshit from commercials, then compare this to our own imperfect reality, we will feel jealous. "My friend just bought a new laptop; while I still here using PC." "She looks so beauty in that dress; why wasn't I born that pretty?" "He achieve so many things and have a perfect life. But mine... it sucks."

We complained about our lives and demand more. This is where the danger lies. Buddha said that, "Desire is the cause for all your sickness and misery." We feel terrible about our lives not because it is terrible indeed; but because we do not feel that it is all enough. Greediness will suck our energy and exhaust us, a horror far mor terrifying than just addicted to texting.

We stop looking to our true environment, the physical world, where we can touch and feel real things. But the truth is, our reality, though full of flaws, are the most impeccable thing as it is real. We discovered our friend have their own problems too; mostly are not so different than ours. We see leaves in their true lemonade green; not in a colour that have been emphasized through Photoshop. People that we meet are as true as how they are when we meet them; not just our imagination of a person we know from the internet.

Behind its defects, reality has its own perfection. Me myself always feels happy for even simple things like the smell of the rain; to see sunrise above the river, on my balcony; to sit under a tree, while the breeze blows my hair; to feel the smoothness of my cheek after I washed my face. Life is beautiful if we know how to feel gratituous of; a thing we cannot experience if we keep our head behind the monitors and eyes set on the phone.

That is why, I fear nomophobia. I do not want to be trapped inside the world of binary codes and pixels. I want to live a real life: a live that is not faked, how imperfect it is. I am not changing myself into a robot, nor communicating with robots. I am a human, interacting with humans. I do not want to read "hahaha" nor "wkwkwk" nor even "LOL"; I want to hear it live, from your heart, spoken by your mouth and heard by both of my ears.

Indeed, I live in today's world. I have realized that not replying message is impolite  and I am intended to change. But I will not let the obligation enslave me to become a robotic machine once again. I had missed many enjoyment of reality; I will not miss anything more. All I can say is I am keeping this nomophobophobia. Because truth is the ultimate pleasure that a man can ask; so I am not buying lies.

Nor living it.

Bordered Vision.

December 26th, 2012

I took this image this evening on my house's rooftop. It was a real beautiful sky; and it was one of the clearest shot I have ever took with my Canon 550D. But, as you can see, this picture has one flaw, which is our main topic in this article: Our vision have been bordered by telephone and electric wires.

This conclusion came to me today, but not on a single glance. I have been thinking about this many times. There are some incidents that provoke this opinion in my mind. The first one was when I was out on some natural place. I cannot recall where was I that time, but it was a wide, wide, plain field and I can see the sky so clearly, so limitless; that then I said to myself, When was the last time I saw the sky this big? I have been living in this earth for eighteen years; yet that day, I could not remember any recent day that I saw the sky and stunned by its greatness.

The second incident was when I was in the street, in the Lempuyangan highway, riding my motorcycle on this clear afternoon and saw the cloud shimmered with sun set light. Then, when I was riding, too, in Tamansiswa Street, suddenly looked up at the sky... Then, in my bedroom, as I accidentally put my eye on the the raining sky outside my balcony to find out that one of the most beautiful storm I had ever seen.

But, still, this visions are not borderless. In every sky saw today, in every street, our great heaven have been bordered with electric wires and buildings; the wideness of our horizon have been shrunk; the endlessness of the sky have gone. You see a piece of this beautiful phenomenon up above you, but merely a piece, as the image have been ruthlessly cut by city house's and advertisement banners. Like a frame on a painting, the electric wires restrict our vision.

And this is a sad, sad thing. Our ancestors in the Central Asian fields; Mongols, were living under the same sky. But theirs were unbound. The plain stepe had nothing to confine their vision which gave them an amazing view of our wide sky. A vision which must be incredibly indefinite enough to make them worship the neverending heaven.

I was so angry, today, and every time I realized this tragic fact. It is such a shame that us, nowadays, cannot see such view. We cannot see the sky fill our eyes with a bold, bold blue; then we cannot realized how infinite our sky is and take it for granted only. Wo do not admire the lapis lazuli blue that garnished with cotton-white clouds. We are not stunned with the gradation of turquoise-ivory-tosca morning sky. We do not even see the sensual shimmer of purple and magenta twilight.

We cannot understand and truly appreciate how wide, how limitless, how great our sky is; which finally led us to forget something so important: that we are so small in this great universe.

Imagine this picture without the wire. Houses will look so tiny under the greatness of the cloud.

I remember that, whenever I saw the sky in those incidents, I always feels so little, so small, so fragile against such majestic greatness. It was like the boldness and heaviness of the sky could just fall to me and crushed me into pieces. I could see how my position in this expanding galaxy is solely as an atomic dust that the nature could just despise. Nature is the ultimate, the almighty power in this world. I was nothing, nothing, against the it.

With a clear sky above us, us human will learn about humility. That there is always something bigger than us. No matter how strong we are, how smart we are; and so, we learn not to be glorious and imperious.

But with a bordered horizon, a cut heaven; us human will know nothing of these. We will only know ourselves. Will only think about ourselves. We never understand that there is a greater power outside our brain. And with it, comes pride and uppity. We think that we are the greatest and the strongest. Our vision bordered and blinded by our cockiness...

By now, the only limitless thing in this world is our sheer greediness and consumptive desires. It is so ironic that science and technology restrain our appreciation to the nature.

Still, the future can change. We can work on a future when the natural science comes in harmony with the nature. It is by reducing our dependence to technology and consumption that we can retrieve our unbound sky back. A person, who promote green lifestyle, can trigger a global human lifestyle to be more organic and less mechanic. Imagine what can happen if it is started by more than just one: you, Readers, and me. Let our yearning for a borderless blue be the motive of our every actions. So maybe one day, we will find a way to cut the wires and not our visions. 

But until then, I will keep longing for a clear, unrestrained, infinite heaven above me.

Visualisasi Batik.

Apa yang ada di benak ketika mendengar kata 'batik'?

Saya sendiri akan langsung teringat kepada almarhumah eyang putri saya. Beliau lahir pada kurun waktu 1920-an, berasal dari keluarga Jawa yang sangat kental -- sebuah background yang membuat beliau sangat dekat dengan batik. Semasa beliau hidup, beliau selalu berbusana tradisional Jawa: sanggul, kebaya, kemben, dan jarik. Tidak pernah sekalipun beliau tidak menggunakan kain batik; dan tidak pernah sama sekali beliau berbusana modern, sekadar daster sekalipun. Batik adalah napas hidup beliau.

Kemudian beliau meninggal empat tahun silam, meninggalkan berlembar-lembar jarik. Saya dahulu adalah seorang Westerner sejati: tidak pernah tertarik kepada budaya sendiri dan selalu berkiblat kepada Inggris, kepada Amerika. Jarik-jarik eyang putri membukakan mata terhadap fakta bahwa saya memiliki komoditas budaya yang begitu kaya. Dimulailah usaha saya untuk merevitalisasi budaya berbatik eyang putri.

Masalah muncul di sini. Meskipun saya telah belajar untuk lebih sering mengenakan kain batik; lebih sering menjajaki berbagai toko batik; dan merasa bangga tiap berpakaian Jawa komplet dengan surjan dan jariknya; selalu terasa ada yang kurang. Saya merasa, saya tidak bisa mengenakan batik seperti eyang putri mengenakannya.

Mengapa? Dengan sedih, saya menyadari, bahwa itu bukan karena saya tidak akrab dengan batik; namun karena saya tidak mengenalinya.

Literally, saya akrab dengan batik. Bersama eyang putri saya, saya tumbuh dengan kain tersebut. Semasa kecil saya ditimang dengan jarik yang diikatkan ke tiang-tiang beranda. Ketika eyang putri susah memakai kemben, saya turut membantu beliau untuk berpakaian. Sarung saya selalu dari batik sejak kecil. Dari TK, seragam sekolah saya pasti ada yang berbahan kain tradisonal tersebut. 

Tetapi, sebatas itulah batik bagi saya: sepotong kain. Saya tidak bisa menghargai batik lebih dari sehelai material yang nantinya dipotong dan dijahit untuk membuat penampilan lebih menarik. Padahal, seharusnya batik bukan sekadar benang dan malam.

Saya terpaku kepada visualisasi batik sebagai sebuah kain. Ini bukan hanya masalah saya dan batik; tetapi juga masalah generasi kita dengan budaya. Kita tumbuh bersama televisi dan internet, dua media yang menawarkan hiburan berpenampilan menarik namun miskin substansi. Kita terpaku kepada tampilan luar, tetapi tidak menilik isinya. We learn to take things for granted. Tertarik kepada sesuatu apabila menarik; membiarkannya lewat ketika basi. Seperti iklan komersial televisi: dibiarkan lalu lalang, namun tidak diperhatikan sepenuhnya.

Malang bagi batik, ia tampak sebagai sehelai kain; maka sebatas itulah penghargaan kita. Ketika gembar-gembor revitalisasi berbatik bergema, kita buru-buru menginvasi toko-toko batik dan ramai-ramai mengenakannya. Namun, semua hanya formalitas, karena sebatas itulah ketertarikan kita akan batik: sekadar kain. Tak ubahnya seakan Bedaya cuma tarian dari Jawa dan Borobudur hanyalah batu yang disusun monumental.

Kita lupa untuk melihat substansi yang lebih penting dari berbagai hal yang tampak. Dalam masalah batik, kita bahkan tidak tertarik untuk menghayati bahwa batik bukan sekadar batik. Ada proses panjang di balik pembuatannya, bagaimana para pembatik menghabiskan waktu mereka untuk menatah kain dengan canting; berlelah-lelah menghadapi pengapnya udara akibat malam yang dilelehkan, dengan tekun mengecap dan melukis. Kita ogah memaknai batik-batik tua -- berapa tahun sudah mereka diciptakan; makna apa yang dikatakan oleh motif-motifnya; siapa yang pernah mengenakan mereka; sejarah apa yang mungkin sudah melibatkan sepotong kain tua tersebut.

Batik bukan sekadar batik. Mulai dari bahan hingga motifnya adalah hasil budaya leluhur kita yang sudah dipertimbangkan maknanya sedemikian rupa. 

Namun, kita tidak tertarik untuk memahaminya dan berkeras menghargai warisan tersebut sebatas materialnya: kain. Sikap kita terhadap batik, sekali lagi, sama seperti terhadap iklan di televisi: kita menerima batik sebagai bagian hidup kita, namun tidak mengapresiasinya dengan benar. Memperlakukannya sama seperti katun dan satin hanya karena ia terlihat sebagai kain.

Pola pikir kita sudah terbentuk sedemikian rupa sehingga kita, mungkin, tidak akan bisa berbatik seperti nenek saya mengenakannya. Kita mengenakan batik hanya sebagai kain penutup tubuh. Namun, nenek saya telah belajar untuk menghayati batik sehingga persepsinya menolak memperlakukan kain tersebut seperti tampilannya. Bagi nenek saya, batik bukan sekadar kain, namun bentuk fisik dari abstraksi adiluhung pemikiran leluhurnya yang sarat akan keagungan. Begitulah, sehingga ketika saya mengenakan batik, sebatas kain-lah batik akan tampak; namun, ketika nenek saya yang berbatik, tampaklah batik sebagai karya seni kuno yang begitu sakralnya.

Terlihat sepele, namun efeknya berkepanjangan. Jangan bertanya apabila di kemudian hari batik akan berlalu begitu saja dari pandangan kita. Bukankah seperti itu kita memperlakukan batik? Bukan sebagai khazanah yang harus dijunjung; namun sebagai kain yang boleh dibuang ketika menjadi gombal.

Lagi-lagi, seperti iklan komersial televisi. Semua karena kita terperangkap visualisasi batik sebagai kain.

Percuma saja upaya berbagai pihak menghidupkan batik kalau sudah begini. Suatu ketika saya mengunjungi sebuah butik batik di Solo. Saya kagum, bagaimana butik itu bisa menghayati kerumitan batik tulis dan mem-fusi-kannya dengan pakaian modern. Saya juga pernah berselancar di internet, mendapati tumbuhnya bisnis toko batik online. Usaha-usaha revitalisasi batik seperti ini akan mati apabila batik tidak dihargai dengan benar, karena orang akan membiarkannya berlalu ketika batik tidak lagi dianggap populer.

Kita harus berhenti terpaku kepada visualisasi dan menghargai substansi. Budaya di sekitar kita mungkin mengajarkan hal sebalilknya; namun, kita bisa melawan. Kita bisa belajar untuk merasakan, tiap kali kita mengenakan batik, bahwa yang membalut tubuh kita bukan sekadar kain berlukis malam; tetapi, sebuah mahakarya yang dipilin dari berjemari-jemari orang.

Sehingga, ketika kita mengenakan kain tersebut, akan ada penghargaan lebih kepada benda yang tengah membalut tubuh kita. Bukan hanya sebatas sebagai kain. 

Karena batik bukan sekadar batik.

~

2012.

I have so much to say for 2012.

As I look back, it had been one of the best year I have ever had. I had gone through a lot of moral transformation. There were so many events that taught me of how to be a full grown gentleman. I learned of patience; determination, focus, and hardwork; of love, loyalty, friendship. I found my true passion in 2012. I had made my decisions for my future. I found the true meaning of loving, and to be loved by so many people around me. In the end of the year, finally, God -- in His mysterious, illogical way of work -- remind me one single thing: that my family is the most precious thing I could ever ask for.

***

I became the chief director of school drama, Antigone. Talking about the performance would need more than just a post as this is the most important performance I have ever had. It summed up all the knowledge that I have learned for years in Jubah Macan theatre. Personally, without trying to put my friends' hardwork in vain, I finally got a chance to prove myself and to present my artistic visions, as more of an artist and less as a high school student.

More than that, the process of Antigone helped to found my true friends. My yearmates, the Padmanaba 68, and junios, the Padmanaba 69, had given me so much support, love, and even loyalty more than I could ever imagined. I would never made it without their help. There were so much love that them guys gave to me, even though I am a demanding person; and when my juniors called me 'Father' as an honourable nickname... I almost teared. I could not tell you, too, how it felt when the show was over and I looked at my yearmates' faces. It was our last show; a sad fact that probably most of us would never joined any show again in the future. Risa, who had been my working partner since we joined the theatre, hugged me in tears. I was, too, and we all were, as we were brokenhearted; yet relieved that finally, our last performance was done well.

It is not in my rights to give the final judgement. But without decreasing our respect to the audience; at the time, compliments nor critics didn't matter anymore. In the end, it was our show. I am totally blessed to be a part of it and to be given a chance to be its director.

At the end of the performance, joined the crowd of crews and casts

***

I became the class chief of my school's orientation for freshmen. It such an honour to be accepted as the committee; I think the best part is that I could know my juniors more, Padmanaba 69, and the new Padmanaba 70. I also joined a kind of pageant contest, here I will not talk about it.

The thing is, these things are almost a test for me. Being suddenly known by many people gave that certain stress, probably regarding my position which pressured to be good and all. I constantly felt that everyone put their eyes on me. For that, I have to keep behaving well and controlled. It was difficult as I always been an impulsive and spontaneous person. I never really cared of people's reaction to me; but then, I have stay cool everytime.

It was like, Gosh, now I know what Lindsay Lohan feels. I would not give any name for this phenomenon as I do not like any popular for this. But truly, to be on the map is a damn tough deal. Popularity, fame, celebrity, whatever you called it -- takes a lot to sacrifice and mostly, you will not like it. Being perfect everyday is exhausting as sometimes you just want to lose your head  Honestly, perfection is my obsession; but pressured to be perfect is a whole different thing.

Even until this very second, I still feel that pressure. It doesn't mean that I don't like the deal of being able to know a lot of people. But a test has to be done and I will do the deed. For good or for worst, I am totally grateful to God that he let me know the complexity of being known, so I can cope better in the coming years. At least, I understand -- and thank God I finally understand -- that shallow popularity is not a good thing; and that I will never ever chase any of it in the future.

***

And... I had an accident in late November.

I will not tell you about the accident as that is a kind of private story of mine and not for public. But I will tell you its effects. When I was in the hospital and my parents came... Surely it reminded me something that I had forgotten.

My relationship with my parents was very complicated in lately. High school taught me of freedom and independence: two concepts that I never really understand before. I have always been a spoiled brat. I lives such a comfortable life: my family never moved from our house even since I was born; my parents taught me well that so far I studied in one of the best schools in our town; and they take care of me well, very well, that they always have time to send me my lunch every school break, until today.

The sole reason of why my parents do that for me was because they loved me. But I must admit this, that sometimes I misunderstand their intentions and thus saw many of their actions as 'over-protecting'. When I was in the tenth and eleventh grade, I saw my friends seemed to be much more independent than I do. They drive themselves to the school, they join extracurricular things until late at night... Seemed to me that they were free.

Then, I rebelled. I struggled for myself. Trying to be objective in this case, I earned many good things for the struggle. My parents gave me my rights to decide my own life: they allowed me to take the Social subject in the eleventh grade, becoming the director of Antigone, to drive by myself, to come home late... I have my freedom. A pure, limitless freedom, where my parents let me do things that I want and not just thing that I have to do.

But I have to say that it also has a negative side. My relationship with my parents were strained. We had so many arguments about so many things. Yes, they said nothing and let me free; but sometimes, it was not because they agree with me; it was because they can do nothing. I have grown and they understand my needs as a teenager. But mostly they did not agree and I struggled... And we argued, too often, that silently, we both realized that I slowly parting away from them, and though it hurts a lot, none of us did anything because we thought it was how things should have happened...

Then I had an accident, and it was when I saw my parents came to the hospital, that I felt like God slapped me right in my face. I had an argument with my parents before the accident, but still, they came to me. I knew right away that it was because they loves me. I am their son and I always will be. No matter what things that I had done, they will always love, like they have done for eighteen years and they will still do until their death.
That night, God reminded me of how bad I had been as a son. God knows, we all knows, that it was for good; but yes, it costs something, and He made the accident to stop me taking more than what my parents and I have.

Since then, I tried to change. I try to love my family more... Love them better.  I am not telling you how because it is not something that you can tell about; is not something you can describe with words... My parents had given me my freedom, my independence; it is the time to pay back with responsibility. I do not regret any struggle that I did; it was necessary for a boy like me. But to other teenagers, who is also struggling for their independence from their parents, please remember one thing: that  one day, when you have achieved you independence, you have to prove that you deserve that and show your responsibility by loving them back, because they will always do.

***

As I looked back, many other events had happened in 2012, but maybe those three are what I will recount in my grey days.  Being an eighteen years old boy is tougher than I ever thought as it is the time that people will start looking at you as a grown up. I am reading Les Miserablés currently and -- along with the events I had gone through -- made me come to an understanding. I am not a boy anymore; I am a young man, taking my first steps for my older days. Every step have to be calculated well as it will affect more people. A fault and your future crumbles; a wise decision and the ladder goes higher.

I can only hope for 2013 to be wiser and better; to make less bad effects and create more good outcomes. May God be with me, and with us, in leading our actions to good.

Family Portrait | Taken September 2012

December: Anniversaries

Joyeux anniversaire!

This is December, the month of anniversaries. My parents and my sister are having their birthday in December. My sister at 12th; Mom at 16th; Dad at 21st. Whoops. Got to empty my pocket and spend every pennies I have for the presents.

Whatever. Afterall, these are birthdays; so we had to celebrate it! Well, not really celebrate: the Javanese term is syukuran, be gratitude to God by sharing meals to others. In our case, we had a dinner tonight (December 16th, 2012) with our closest neighbours and friends to celebrate Mom's birthday. We ate at Phuket, a Thailand cuisine restaurant. We invited my old-bestie Merlyn and her family! It had been so long that I met her, miss her and her family so much...

Merlyn and her family came even before we arrived at the venue. Well, my impunctuality is genetic. They brought a peanut tiramisu for my Mom. It was really sweet... and smells nice. Really nice. And it was from Breadtalk so... You know what I mean.

From left to right: My beloved Auntie Nining; my Dad, he got a real cool haircut lately; my Sister (unseen); my Mom; Tante Dian, with her white-framed glass; my neighbour, Dhea, with her mom, Aunt Anom, and dad, Uncle Anom (unseen); Uncle Is, you can see his lavender cloth; Om Dennis, Merlyn's dad; Merlyn (blue polo) and her brother, Rian (green polo). 

Well, we wouldn't have three celebrations in a month, would we? So my parents and my sister blowed the candles together. Make some wishes!

For the present, I gave Mom my painting, titled Mother, in the Market. Earlier she said that she loved it and that was why I gave it to her. It was actually an Art class project, but Mas Fahmi (my art teacher) told me that I could keep that and was very supportive when I told him that I was going to give it to my Mom. Mas Fahmi helped me a lot in finishing it. My sister act as the financial supporter (well every artists needs a patron). 

Happy 47th birthday, Mom!

***

Somehow, I think it was really sweet. Perhaps it was caused by my emotional transformation in this twelfth grade. As I left my usual business at school and had more time with my family, we grew closer and I found our loveliness that I used to put aside... This is another story, though; but one thing true, like how my bestie Arnest said, these are my family and no matter what happens, I will always love them...

~

Happy birthday, Sister. Happy birthday, Mom. Happy birthday, Daddy. And may us all keep being together, until the earth is our sky and we breathe God's heaven.

 ~

Someday, Today.

 One day, that "someday" will be "today". :') | Tweeted December 15th, 2012.

I won't lie. I never satisfied of things I have got and always wanted for more.

I just can not stand it. Everytime I see those photographs, pictures... it reminds me of how I wanted so much to be like them. I just can not stand it to feel envious everytime I see people achieve more than I do. Got their names credited in fashion photographs. Got their face printed on the magazine covers. Got their name headlined in a lifestyle magazine. Got their artwork published in the blog.

I want to be like these people I admire... These people, who accidentally, so close to me in the real life. Sering kehidupan kami bersinggungan dengan cara yang unik. Saya mengenalnya dan ia mengenal saya. Namun, kami berbeda. Mereka berhasil achieve many things that I would also like to do! Mengapa saya tidak? Apakah saya kalah dengannya?

I know I can do those things, too. But why couldn't I? Why didn't I get the chance?

Some people told me to be gratituous. Well I am being gratituous. For all the good things happened in my life: menjadi sutradara Antigone; diberi kesempatan siaran di Zona Pelajar dan bertemu so many great individuals; memiliki banyak teman di sekolah and have my voice listened; bisa mendesain secara profesional and being paid... (I am so sorry, but honestly I don't even try to brag). These are my achievements and I am totally thank God for giving me these.

But what is life if you only stucked in a place and never moving forward? Saya tidak akan berbohong. Saya juga ingin mencipta banyak hal. Make some paintings. Write some novels. Shoot some photographs.

Saya berpikir, masalah saya sekarang justru karena saya dream too big. I just read a line in a magazine, "Start simple, start small, but start now." While I don't know whether today is a good day to start. But do I have time? People keep telling me, "Study. Study. Study."... My bestie told me to be focused on the exam because there is no time; my teacher told me that I still have plenty of hours to make some art. Whom should I trust? 

Well, you can almost say, "It all depends on you. Can you do two things at once?" While I do not even know my ability. Could I? I need to be convinced. Because I want to start now. Orang-orang selalu berkata, mulailah selagi muda. Saya masih muda dan saya mau memulai. Saya hanya berharap diberi some courage to start today.

***

Resolution time: I need to convinve myself to be braver and take some risk. Well, maybe I will not found any empowerment from my friends, but I know I will have courage from God. To start, to progress, and to achive.

Let's make "today" becoming that "one day".

About Love and Waiting

Hi, my object of affection. Long time no see.

Keinginan untuk menulis post ini muncul secara spontan. Saya baru saja mendapat telepon dari sahabat saya and we talked about many things. Di tengah pembicaraan itulah saya teringat dengan my romance dan saya sadar, I never really talked about it. Memang, bagi saya itu sesuatu yang privat. Tetapi, saya juga sadar bahwa ini juga bukan sesuatu yang harus saya sembunyikan.

Then, why? There are many reasons of why I never answer my friends' question on my love life. Sekarang saya menyadari satu. It was because my love life is not even finished yet. It is never finished up until now.

Curious? Oh, so do I. Let's hear how the story started...

***

I met someone at 2010. Dia orang yang cerdas dan menyenangkan. Memang, kita selalu lebih bahagia bersama orang yang kita sukai; namun, bagi saya, dia memang berbeda. Jelas; dia cinta pertama saya.

Story goes and we have a quite amazing journey. But, it was not without flaws. As it was my first, of course I am facing problems regarding my naiveness. Itu ternyata menghasilkan masalah: kami tidak bisa mengakomodasi satu sama lain. Saya tidak bisa mengimbangi kedewasaan sikapnya. Padahal, saya berada di posisi yang menuntut kedewasaan saya.

That was the beginning of the end.

***

Rachel Berry said that, "You always forgive your first love everything." I think she's right.

Hubungan kami berakhir di tahun yang sama. Hanya empat belas hari bersih. Saya tidak pernah mengerti mengapa kami berakhir. Apakah karena kami berhenti mencintai; atau tepatnya, dia, karena saya tidak? Bahkan kami tidak sedang marah, atau ngambek. Saya tidak pernah mendapatkan penjelasan karena dia tidak menjelaskan. Kami hanya berakhir; dan saya hanya melepaskan.

Tetapi, kami juga berlanjut. Seakan semuanya tidak pernah terjadi, kami tetap menjadi teman dekat. Setidaknya, saya yang berusaha tetap menjadi teman dekat karena dia seperti debu. Pergi, kemudian kembali, sebelum pergi lagi. Tidak bisa dipertahankan, namun senantiasa datang. Kadang-kadang, saya merasa apabila bukan karena usaha saya, pasti kami sudah jauh.

Namun, ia juga tidak mau melepaskan saya. Ketika saya hendak beranjak, ia selalu menarik saya untuk duduk lagi dan bermain bersamanya...

Saya tidak tahu bagaimana menurutnya, namun bagi saya, posisi kami tidak jelas.

Begitupun saya selalu menjadi rumah yang mengharapkan kedatangannya; dan ia memang datang. Namanya juga teman. Namun, dalam kedatangannya, ada rasa yang aneh dalam hati saya. Apakah itu rindu, pedih, kesal, atau kelu? Saya juga tidak tahu.

Saya merasa seperti sebuah villa. Saya terikat kepada seseorang. Saya mengharapkan kedatangannya. Tetapi, orang itu jarang datang. Sesekali ia memang meminta teduh kepada saya dan, karena saya bagian darinya, saya memberikan atap. Namun, bahkan ketika dia sedang singgah, saya tidak yakin apakah ia akan tinggal. Sebenarnya justru saya tahu dia tidak akan tinggal. Tetapi, saya terus meneduhkan—dan berharap.

I was so pathetic, indeed. But what can I say? You forgive your first love everything. Bahkan meskipun ia meninggalkan saya menggantung di tengah percakapan yang tidak selesai, saya terus menanti balasan SMS-nya.

***

Saya bersih dua tahun single. Ada orang-orang yang datang dan pergi, yang saya hargai kedatangannya dan saya juga ratapi kepergiannya.  But somehow, I am always questioning. Bahkan dalam posisi "teman" ini, atau mungkin "kakak adik". Ketika kami main bahkan dengan teman-teman yang lain.

Bagaimana perasaanmu kepadamu sekarang?  Mengapa ia selalu terkesan tidak membiarkan saya pergi, apakah dia masih memiliki rasa yang sama? Mengapa ia dulu mengakhiri kami?

I am being honest here. I put down all my pride to write and to publish those three questions publicly. Tiga pertanyaan itulah yang menghantui saya selama dua tahun. Yang membuat saya selalu menatapnya lekat ketika ia tidak melihat. Yang membuat jantung saya masih berdebar ketika memegang tangannya. Yang membuat saya tidak sanggup menatap matanya. Yang mengisi sesak paru-paru saya ketika duduk di dekatnya, mencium wangi parfumnya. Yang membuat saya selalu ingin mendekapnya dan tertawa—dan menangis. Yang membuat saya masih selalu mengharap tiap SMS, tweet, comment, apapun darinya—dan yang membuat saya selalu bersedia membalasnya. Yang membuat saya masih menunggu ia mendekap saya balik. Yang membuat saya bertahan dalam kesendirian saya. Yang membuat saya tersenyum dalam kesendirian saya. Yang membuat saya perih dalam kesendirian saya.

Yang membuat saya terus menunggunya untuk menjawab pertanyaan-pertanyaan saya...

Apakah saya berharap bisa kembali bersamanya? Tidak. We were not born to be together. Tetapi, saya butuh mendapatkan jawaban-jawaban di atas...

***

Bagaimanapun, saya tidak punya keberanian untuk menanyakan pertanyaan di atas secara langsung. Terasa rikuh. Terasa sayang untuk melancangi 'pertemanan' kami dengan pertanyaan-pertanyaan sesensitif itu. Tetap saja, saya selalu merasa bertanya-tanya.

Mungkin tidak salah apabila post ini bisa disebut sebagai permohonan. Tidak dapat saya pungkiri bahwa saya berharap dia membaca tulisan ini dan tahu apa yang saya rasakan selama ini.  Kemudian ia akan cukup mengerti untuk menggamit tangan saya, duduk berdua, dan meluruskan segala keingintahuan saya. Mau disebut apapun, saya tidak berada di pihak yang bisa membuka topik ini begitu saja...

Pathetic? Bisa dibilang begitu. Tetapi, saya tidak menyesal maupun malu. Kenyataan bahwa saya tetap dapat menjalani dua tahun saya dengan gemilang adalah prestasi bagi saya. Perasaan ini ada dan lekat; namun tidak mengganggu, meskipun tetap butuh dijawab. Saya akan tetap menjalani hidup saya: bersekolah dengan baik, meraih nilai bagus dan masuk jurusan keinginan saya; kemudian belajar dengan baik dan mendapat karir yang baik pula; bertemu seseorang yang baru dan melanjutkan cerita.
Saya hanya menanti—dan akan terus, seraya mengisi penantian saya.

Still, it was because you forgive your first love everything.

***

So that was the story. Itulah love life saya. Semoga bisa memuaskan keingintahuan pembaca. Bagaimanapun, saya juga bersyukur, karena kesempatan ini juga menyadarkan saya akan apa yang sedang terjadi. Untuk itu, saya berterima kasih kepada pembaca semua. Bless you, guys.

Hope this post can inspire you something.