Sea Gypsy Boys//Bajau Laut Sabah

I took these photos at Semporna, Sabah, last year. These boys are Bajau Laut etnic people. I saw them playing under the jetty I was on. They were jumping off the 10 foot high jetty into the sea-urchin laden sea. In these photos you can see them on a foam-board. One of the boys found a pomelo’s skin and thought it would make a great hat!

More pictures can be found on my instagram @_travelcamera

written on 18th of May 2021

B&W

The theme for this week’s photography club competition at school was man-made in black and white. I just knew I had to edit this photo I took a few months ago. My dad is a hardware fanatic. When he’s not cutting people open (he’s a qualified surgeon don’t worry) , he’s busy cutting wood in his workspace at the side of our house.

This time last year we went out together to find a plywood board for my art project! After acquiring the board he indulged himself in window shopping around the warehouse. I foresaw this happening so I brought my camera along with me.

My dad was interested in power saws and drills and I found interest in the shapes around me.

This photo was edited with Lightroom.

overwhelmed

Here’s a rather underwhelming photo to contrast the emotions I’ve been feeling this past week.

When describing burn out, the word ‘tired ‘often pops up to mind. I tend to imagine a flickering lightbulb. Barely alive.

I hear the solution to feeling burnt out is to step back and take a rest. I wish I could but I’m hoping that I can channel all my nervous energy into productivity. Wish me luck!

small things

Of course the big moments are cherished. Birthdays, Christmas, graduation, marriage. But the big moments are destined to be big. It’s the small moments that we didn’t expect anything from that are a big deal when they turn out better than we could imagine.

It springs up as a surprise. A sunset at the beach turns into a memory that you smile at when you think about it 20 years later. A impulsive jog in the rain creates a sensation of thrill and delight that you’ll remember when you walk in the rain years later. A last minute lunch at a cafe with a friend provides a photograph that you’ll look back on and send to that friend no matter the length of radio silence between you two.

It’s the small things that matter the most because we didn’t expect anything out of them.

a window of opportunity

Date: (March 2020) A week before life as we knew it changed.

Location: On a ferry from Labuan to Sabah

Mid-March 2020, my grandfather celebrated his 71st birthday as he visited Labuan Federal Territory. This trip marked his completion of visiting all the 14 states of Malaysia. I’m very glad I got to do it with him.

Since that trip, I’ve only seen him once and even that was only for an overnight stay.

During our Labuan trip we knew the unavoidable was coming. The virus had already hit China and was rapidly spreading. It wouldn’t be long before it hit our country. However, what nobody could expect was the impact of the virus. Thus, nobody was prepared for it. I naively assumed it would be over in a few months, yet here we are in our third lockdown with thousands of cases daily. I still naively hope that we will be in the clear soon. My greatest wish of last year was to be able to spend Christmas with my family. It didn’t happen. Despite that, my greatest wish this year is still the same.

I frequently contact my grandparents through video chat but it’s just not the same as being in their arms.

I love looking back at photos from my previous trips. Even photos as insignificant as this window on a ferry, brings me back to a time where I could feel the sea breeze on my face and wrap my arms around my grandpa.

social distance.

Taken a few months ago, this picture captures how I felt amidst this pandemic. I was so fascinated watching them arrive to the beach alone as the sky grew stormy overhead. They wanted to watch the storm and they came prepared for it. The sky looked like it was going to cry and there was a gray sunset. However, it did not rain.

To me, this symbolises how I felt waiting for the storm to come. Alone, trying to be prepared for the unknown.