Saturday, 18 November 2017

Lethal Melody -Short Movie-

Welcome back,

I don't think I ever shared the first experimental short movie I directed.
It won the fiction award in AUI Short Film Festival .

SynopsisConvicted for the murder of a family member, a young woman reminisces the motives behind her terrible act.
It's the tale of a victim who became a criminal.

Wednesday, 25 October 2017

Extract of My Travel Diary #5

Day: 18 February 2017
Location: Athen/ Greece, Little Trees Books and Coffee
Time: 7pm

"Today, I witnessed the sunset over Athen while meditating in the rocky hill of Areopagus.
I was dressed in an oversize hoodie, alone sitting in the slippery rocks, shaken by the cutting winds.

I held in my mind two paradoxal thoughts.
For a moment, I felt as powerful as a Greek goddess looking over the city of Athen while also feeling as insignificant as a sand particle in the vast ocean.
Below me, the city light gradually sparkled like galaxies expanding over the silent hills and the darkest mountains.
The constant whispers of leaves rustling as the cold breeze blows in the trees got interrupted by the metro train's roar each fifteen minutes.

The remaining of a Greek civilisation, the cradle of modern democracy, were still there… standing still… being visited by individuals across the globe.
Some of these individuals probably still live in an authoritarian state, do they think about what this place represent?

Saturday, 30 September 2017

Extract of My Travel diary #4

Day:  2 Aug, 2016
Location: Amsterdam, a random coffeeshop. 
Time: 3pm

"Unfortunately, whether we like it or not we're subject to circumstances and to the illness of our time.
-Vincent Van Gogh-  
I am standing in front of this giant quote on the walls of Van Gogh Museum. .
I proceed to look clumsily in my backpack for a pen then scribbled the quote in entrance's ticket.
I am shivering…
I am surrounded by tourists
I am alone…
But, I am finally here.
I can see with my own eyes the texture of his paintings, the strokes of the paint brushes , the dried driplets of watercolour.
This is something the little brown girl (I once was) could only dream of.
She only saw the paintings of Vincent in school manual and the wall of her school library.


I was an awfully sad nine years old, struggling with issues I couldn't comprehend. I just lost a friend, the only friend I had. It shattered the notion of noble friendship I believed in before even knowing who Plato was.
During recess, to hide my loneliness from the other kids, I found refuge in the library of the catholic school. There I was introduced to the injustice and the filth ramping on earth when I read books such as Uncle's Tom Cabin (Slavery) and Friedrich (Prosecution of jews during Hitler's regime).