Tag Archives: memory

Copenhagen: A Summer Exchange

Copyright thebookybunhead 2012

From the moment I stepped out of the airport, I knew that my second time in Europe as a professional ballet exchange student would be no less than wonderful. Everyone was very welcoming and even Copenhagen itself seemed to greet me with its warm colours and lively streets. The next two weeks would be spent dancing with the Royal Danish Ballet and exploring the sights and sounds of the city!

We had ballet classes in the morning, one with students of the school, and one with professional dancers of the company. It was nice to have the variety of levels and intensity every day, as well as to meet many great people. We also took some other classes such as repertoire and Pilates, with Bournonville being particularly fun as a trademark Danish style with its charming expression and agile steps. It was an inspiring and exciting experience to take company class and I admit it made me feel impatient that apprenticeship starts a year earlier there!

We watched company rehearsals, and though it was too early in the season to see a performance, we got a tour of the beautiful, golden, traditional theatre and saw excerpts of ballet pieces in an annual outdoor show that promoted the Det Kongelige Teatre. It became chilly after sunset, yet the audience of thousands stayed sitting on the grass wrapped in blankets until a standing ovation at the end of the night; it was a kind of cultural appreciation I was quite impressed with.

Throughout the afternoons walking the streets of Copenhagen, we discovered many parks, observatory towers, and pretty buildings, and realized it was impossible to walk a few minutes without snapping pictures of a cool fountain or statue. I had the chance to ride in a canal tour, go to two of the oldest amusement parks in Europe, look at art (including a Degas exhibition) in a couple of the many museums that offer free access, and just enjoy the street and night life.

I once read that Denmark was named the happiest country in the world, and I can say I easily believe it with the relaxed, “go-with-the-flow” atmosphere I felt during my stay. Everyone I met was so nice that I often forgot I was a foreigner, at least until Danish was spoken, which I found out has absolutely no resemblance to English. I was sad to leave but was looking forward to bring back everything I had learned to grow more as a dancer and a person in my final year at NBS! Between the ballet and the excursions with friends, I had a grand time in Copenhagen and hope to visit again someday.

So, this is part of why my summer was packed to write as much as I wanted. The first month of gr.12 has been so busy but I’m really hoping to get this blog up and active again.

Thanks for reading,
thebookybunhead

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Filed under Dance, Life, The happenings

Walks ’til Magic Hour

Source: photok12.org/?q=node/11

Oh glorious day!
Sunshine blazes through canopies of green, crowds filter into High Park
A blackbird calls, its red and white marks peeking through the brush
Algae foams above the pond, where breezes sweep through the gardens
Strolling a maze of hedges and wading pools
Sit with face to the sky, indulge in quenching fruit salad and gelato
Hike hidden sandy trails imagining a place without city noise
Emerge into picnics, lawn bowling games, and playground cheers
Snapping photos and laughing chats all the way
Have a mini barbecue in shady grass, with softened rays of the dying hours
Contemplating why we work so hard to seclude ourselves from nature,
When we love so much to wallow in it?

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Perfect way to end the long weekend: had an absolutely fantastic time with my family and my only regrets are that I had homework nagging the back of my mind and that I didn’t reapply sunscreen, not because of sunburn, but because it is too soon to already get this tanned. Summer feels so close but so far away, and I am feeling very unmotivated to go back to school and don’t-even-mention exams. I just have to remember to live every moment because before I know it, grade 11 will be finished.

Thanks for reading,
thebookybunhead

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Filed under Just another person, Life, Poems, Essays, and Things, The happenings

Cotton Candy (NaPoWriMo #24)

Skies flush pink by a setting sun
As purple clouds float lazily
Amorphous stripes like cotton candy undone
Fluffy strands look good enough to eat

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Yesterday’s anagram prompt proved very difficult, so I’m sorry to disappoint but here’s another sky poem instead. There is nothing like seeing the colours with your own eyes for even a camera can’t capture the full brilliance of nature’s colours. I saw a rainbow today too, as it was rainy, but I didn’t include it because that would be much too sweet for my taste.

Thanks for reading,
thebookybunhead

6 Comments

Filed under NaPoWriMo Challenge, Words

Bittersweet Nostalgia (NaPoWriMo #12)

At a best friend’s cottage.

I miss you.
But I don’t know
If it’s you,
Or the you I knew years, or even months, before.
You’ve changed.
Or maybe I’ve changed.
Or both of us have since taking our own risks and choices.
We said we’d keep in touch, but did we?
Every time I see you
A flood of memories flash before my eyes
And then I’m not sure if I’m really seeing you
And I wonder if you get this confused vision too.
Time has a funny way of dividing reality and memory.
Conversations, jokes, games, plain old sitting at the table,
I remember.
I know you do too,
Because best friends don’t forget that stuff.
Time moves on but we talk of past moments,
Precious but irrelevant to the stories we each write now.
Time has a funny way of dividing people sometimes.
I can see my nostalgic sadness reflected in your eyes.
And somehow our goodbyes
Are never-ending.
Because forever can last forever in your mind.
Until we meet again,
I just wanted to say that
I miss you.

“I would rather walk with a friend in the dark, than alone in the light.”
-Helen Keller

*UPDATE: A few weeks after writing this post, I ran into my friend at a ballet awards show. It was a thrilling surprise and we got caught up for a few good hours. Funny how life can offer you the best coincidences… *

Thanks for reading,
thebookybunhead

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Filed under Idle Thoughts, Just another person, NaPoWriMo Challenge

Just Another Angel: For my grandfather (NapoWriMo #6)

Picture0012

Calligraphy by my grandfather. The first character is “silence”, the one in the corner is “beautiful”. It translates to English: “Silence is golden.”

though you are not here in total, and never will be again

you linger in my heart, and in my memories
no more conversations, or sitting by the tv
it is hard to accept that

i am sorry we didn’t spend our time like we should

with me around the globe, it’s hard
yet you traveled all this way once
and here we are now with everyone
but, it was too late

though your spirit soared, and your mind fought so much

you were leaving behind the air needed to breathe
no more medications to swallow or needles piercing through your skin

and you now fly high, i am pretty sure about that

but you leave us behind, with tears to shed and splinters of the past life you had

and we have to gather up the memories that lay broken on the floor
but you live always, in those whose very existence depended on you
those like me
you are up there with all the heavenly bodies

just another angel

watching our family peacefully

but to me, you are not another one of them

you were my grandfather,my one and only, and always will be

i love you

“To live in the hearts we leave behind is not to die.” – Thomas Campbell

Published from September 1st, 2009.

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My grandparents flew to Canada once from Indonesia, and in 2009, our family from all around the world flew in to celebrate their 50th wedding anniversary. My grandfather had been ill, and his condition worsened while we were there. It was a very bittersweet trip and shortly after we landed in British Columbia, we received the news that Kong-Kong, as we called him, had passed away. I wrote him this poem. Today’s prompt to write a valediction, or poem of farewell, reminded me of it.

Thanks for reading,
thebookybunhead

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Filed under NaPoWriMo Challenge

Dancing with the moon: A short memory

I remember the nights when the moon would shine by the window, peeking through branches of our backyard pine tree, gentle light falling onto the folds of the blanket. It was on these nights I would sit and stare at moon’s face, contemplating the shades that fell onto its smooth pearl surface, feeling special as the clear, white light washed over me.

I would imagine myself floating and leaping as I twirled weightlessly in the land of white dust, and leaving nothing but the light footprints of my dancing feet along with a trail of swirling powder behind me. I think of having gravity leave me, as I soar into the night sky of twinkling stars where the Earth looks perfect, a beautiful, sparkling jewel of life, with patterns of green, clouds, and bright city lights in the dark.

And when I drift back down to the planet, back to the bed where I have propped myself up, there the moon would be, smiling the soft reflected sun rays into the window, an inch higher in the black velvet of night. I would adjust view so I could gaze at the full, round face, and wonder more of things, like how moon’s surface hadn’t changed in the longest time, and that footprints had  virtually been stamped on it, staying in the dust where nothing stirred its existence.

I felt, on those nights, that I could have looked up at the moon forever, soaking up the reassuring glow, cherishing the moments I spent passing each second traveling in the dark midnight with a magical blanket of the calm, full moon wrapped around me.

And my dreams would fly on, in the sleepy yet alive city, surrounded by the purity of polar opposites black and white, carrying me in the late, quiet air with the distant chirping of a cricket symphony. Until moon would let me flutter down in my sleep, so high above the tree, wishing me a farewell as its light reached the edge of my bed, and glazed out the windowsill, leaving me with the still, dusty memories of our dance that night. And yet I would dream on, of the next time moon shall come to greet me, in the tangles of the pine brushes.

Published from October 9, 2009:
A giant full moon was spotted through our window a few days ago, and reminded of a little something I had written years ago. After a bit of searching, I found the notebook, and here it is. It’s different from how I remember, and though I find it ambiguous with very long sentences at times, there are some rediscovered moments and phrases here that I like. Although the moon has been associated with dark magic and eerie nights, I don’t find it so. Then again, I have never been in a dark forest alone under a full moon so… what do I know.

Anyways, thanks for reading,
thebookybunhead

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Filed under Poems, Essays, and Things