The main reason why I wanted to make this trip! (Thanks brother for the nice photos of me)
We woke up at 2.30AM in order to reach there in time for the sunrise, but it turned out to be a disappointing one. Still, it was such a gratifying experience to be able to step among these ancient stones and gape in wonder and awe at how the whole structure was built without any modern machinery. The history buff within was satisfied.
When you can’t be at the real place … a museum exhibit is most welcome.
There is always something to be thankful for. And living in a beautiful convenient city like this is one of them.
Solo day out to the museum.
The building looked quaint and interesting enough from the outside, but once we went into the main buildings… The air of depression just weighed down.
And as if sensing the mood we were in, it started to rain…
View of Parliament from the memorial. Looks deserted but crowds were teeming behind us.
I must say I do a pretty good job of cutting crowds out from my pictures.
Walking along this corridor, from a speaker came a simple pure voice reading out names of the people listed on the boards, and their ages. Listening to how young some of them were when they went off to war was just heartbreaking.
Right in the middle of Brisbane city, is the old and vintage architecture of City Hall.
We headed upstairs for the clock tower tour.
The one and only cage lift still in use in Australia!
The space up in the clock tower there was a little smaller than I expected, with room for no more than maybe 8 people to stand comfortably.
Could only imagine what the view would have been like when the tower was first built – unobstructed by development and progress…
The Rocks is usually crowded with tourists and locals… But a trip there on a weekday morning gave me wonderful space, air and time to soak in everything at my own pace. What a contrast from the previous few times I was there..
An emotionally deep novel about a Chinese family and heritage, based on Amy Tan’s personal stories and experience. It’s even been made into an opera
After reading this, I couldn’t help but wonder how much of our stories are fading with the demise of our older generation.
I ask myself how much of my grandmother’s life do I know.
The answer, sadly, is not much.
I wonder why. Why have we never thought to ask? Why hasn’t anyone in the family talked about it? Why hasn’t anyone thought the remember so that we can pass on her stories to our own children and nieces and nephews one day?
My maternal grandparents and paternal grandfather are already deceased. Only our paternal grandmother is left, and suddenly I am curious to know what her life was like as a little girl, growing up in war to post-war times. Would she want to talk? Would she talk only in dialect such that I won’t be able to answer her confidently? Would she talk, then tell my aunts and uncles that I’ve become “weird”, suddenly asking her such questions?
I do hope that I will have the courage to try. Maybe the brother might be interested to make a short film project out of it too ;p
A reflective space in the heart of the city, just a short walk away from St Mary’s Cathedral.
Made me think about how important it is to have such places of tranquility around us, even in the city.
Humans are, by default, sensitive creatures, and we absorb the vibrations of our surroundings. If we are constantly surrounded by harsh noises, words, and angular structures, it’s no wonder that people in a predominantly city-like environment may grow to be less at peace, less accepting and flexible, and less happy with themselves.
Places and spaces like these can serve to remind us that there is more to life than rushing from one appointment to another, meeting deadline after deadline. They remind us that there is still beauty in this world, that it is ok to slow down once in a while, especially when we feel we need to, that it is ok to admire the beauty in our surroundings, and that we should admire the beauty in the world around us, because we are a part of it.