I find happiness in simple things. Like living in a small town with an 80-hectare botanical garden at its city centre—a sanctuary for more than 15,000 species of trees and plants. It’s a small town with the highest number of rainy days (320 out of 365 days) in Java (or maybe in the world?), hence the title “Rain City” (though for the sake of romanticism I prefer to call it “The City of the Falling Rain”).

But what I love the most from a small town is the absence of tall buildings and skyscrapers, as well as 24-hour  brightly-lit billboards and LCD screens that contribute to light pollution. I love it when the night is pitch dark (as it should be) and the sky is clear; so you can sit down on an open field (or in my case, the empty parking lot in front of my housing complex’s swimming pool) and gazing at the stars.

I could spend hours just sitting there, looking up into the sky, sipping a cup of hot chocolate. My heart twinkles.

A few days ago, going back home at around 11 pm, I entertained myself with the view of the starlit sky from behind my taxi’s window. It was on the highway, the last few kilometers home, with open fields on my left. The sky seemed closer. At the time, I wished I could mail that amazing starlit sky to you, so you could see it in your sky, too.

***

Around midnight, a girl arrived at her home. She dashed in, threw her bags, sipped a cup of hot tea her father had prepared, then snatched her camera and ran to the front door hurriedly, yelling: “Am out to shoot the stars!”—and off she ran to an empty parking lot in front of her housing complex’s swimming pool; still inside her working outfit with blazer and all; then she directed her camera to the sky. She fluttered around the open space, trying her best to capture the twinkling stars. Someone who happened to see her from afar might think she was dancing while looking up to the sky.

***

A few days later, somewhere far away, a guy opened his mailbox and found a tiny card with a handwritten note on it. It said:

Dear you,

I haven’t mastered the skills to capture those stars vividly, yet
(not to mention my improper handling of the camera)—but I hope,
you can still catch the beauty of  those twinkling tiny dots,
if only you’re willing to see this with just a little bit of extra love.

H.

Short trips. Lovely weekends. Books. Paintings. Sketches. Taking pictures. Shopping for shoes and blazers. Cute things. Adorable moments. Winter days. Friends. Great laughs. You. March.

I’m back.

Sketchbook, brushes and watercolors. A tiny collection, a very minimum supply. But I’m enjoying my time (a surplus of anything won’t guarantee your happiness), making a mess in my room. During weekends, the windows are wide open. The sunlight is pouring in. On weekdays, arriving at home late at night, I’m embracing the light bulbs and the sound of the cicadas. Sitting in front of my dressing table, I’m coloring some of the drawings I’ve made the previous days, while waiting for my hair to dry. The sweet smell of the shampoo is wafting over my head.

I take the luxury of ordering beautiful illustration books, which are so darn expensive. But I am saving my money to get these books onto my working desk, with the same amount of determination that may be possessed by a woman who has been craving for a pair of branded shoes for years. Books, of any kind, have always become my most valuable possessions. Especially when the books are beautifully illustrated!

Lately, sketchbooks and journals of artists and painters draw me in. It’s like peeking into their creative minds and nibbling at it (hmm, sounds zombie-ish, but no, it’s actually ‘nibbling’ in a rather cute way!)

Thus, I’m back with my sketchbook, brushes, and watercolors. Something I’ve given up hope for long ago. But now it feels exciting and dear to me again, all of a sudden. Travel journal catches my heart as it captures three things that I’m so in love with: traveling, writing, and drawing.

So, I’m starting to paint Hong Kong while preparing myself to paint my future journeys.

Painting is just another way of keeping a diary | Pablo Picasso

The Jakarta sky was shining above my head. It was 2 pm, a Sunday, some time in late December. The weather was hot and humid, as always. I stepped into the outdoors with my shirt, short pants, and flip-flops. I instantly fell in love with the potted plants and frangipanis. The unlit candles, floating silently on top of coconut oil inside transparent glasses. The wooden floor. And the rooftop pool overlooking the city’s tall buildings. I dipped my toes in there. The cold water felt calming, relaxing, and… a bit jellyish, like the feeling you got when you dipped your hands into a bowl full of marshmallows. Therapeutic in a way, that soothing kind of vibe that enveloped you every time you’re thinking of those lovely memories you’ve shared with someone so dear to your heart.

This morning, I stumbled upon a beautiful song called Wish You Were Here by Blackmore’s Night, posted by a friend. It brought back all the sweet thoughts I had that day, one Sunday afternoon, when I was dipping my toes in the cold water, secretly thinking about you and wondering how perfect it would be if you were here with me. To my surprise, I found more songs with the title Wish You Were Here, and they are all so bewitching, I couldn’t help but share it here. From the sweetest tones to the rockin’ style, old and new, upbeat and classic, you’ll be amazed by these:

1. Wish You Were Here by Blackmore’s Night

2. Wish You Were Here by Endah & Rhesa

3. Wish You Were Here by Avril Lavigne

4. Wish You Were Here by The Sounds

5. Wish You Were Here by Ryan Adams

6. Wish You Were Here by Incubus

7. Wish You Were Here – Pink Floyd

8. Wish You Were Here – Bliss [Buddha Bar version]

9. Wish You Were Here – Mark Wills

10. Wish You Were Here – Eddie Fisher

11. Wish You Were Here by Fleetwood Mac

12. Wish You Were Here by Stefani Germanotta

[And these are for you. One song for each passing month. Wish you were here.]