A photographic sketch of Venice

Oh, Venice. Aren’t you a beauty? Your famed façades of ageing edifices, your veins and capillaries in constant circulation, like a colossal slumbering organism: that’s your complexion most frequently adorning postcards and photography, that your admirers come in cohorts to revel. But isn’t it the fabric of your skin, the contours of textures and variations… MORE »

A photographic sketch of Chiang Mai

One prominence lends voice to another, and in Chiang Mai’s case, Buddhism speaks for much of its architectural landscape. Trespassing through a sandwich of moat, relentless traffic and defensive wall, then to be swallowed within the brick fortification roughly marking the old city’s expanse, is a reversion of time – in isolated time portals scattered… MORE »

Midnight at Trevi Fountain, Rome

When a spot ascends to celebrity status the way Fontana di Trevi became renowned as one of the most famous fountain in Rome, if not the world, congregations of adoration follow. Shoulders collide where peripherals are coerced to share with bobbing heads, eclipsing the strokes of chisels defining masonry of the Baroque era; sloshing of waters chanted… MORE »

The Roman apartment imprisonment

Out of all my damning qualities, heightened paranoia is perhaps my least self-redemptive. Idealist me may argue it’s food for imagination: over-simulating scenarios help me orchestrate life, fabricate alternate realities to deal with whatever outcome. While paranoia, actually, doesn’t ready me for anything. Either nothing unfortunate happens, and I was alerted for no reason; or… MORE »

Embracing couple on Primrose Hill, London

I’d never been up Primrose Hill before. Nor had I stood atop its pinnacle, to be caressed by its panorama of London’s cityscape. But as I hiked up the gradient, the view swelled with each step from tree-obscured plainness to peripheral expansion; once enclosed by its urban pastures, Regents Park was then trampled and overlooked… MORE »

Edinburgh: A flaring path in torchlight glow

The bagpipe must have been invented on a cold, dark night. Its first sound, a long-drawn pitch of melodic invitation conceived out of silence, clenched my eyelids and had me secluded in blankness. The courtyard was exposed, high up one of the tallest hills in Edinburgh, so the lone bagpipe sang most clamourously only over… MORE »