Wednesday, 28 November 2012

s u p r i s e me

As Ric Elias locks the audience with a quiet, frank gaze I can't help but feel awe, compassion and respect for this man on my computer screen. How he felt when he faced death in the eye that he said that he did not feel afraid but felt sad. Saddened because he loved his life and didn't want to let go but mostly because he wanted to see his children grow up.

I watched this TED Talk which had Ric Elias one of the 155 occupants of Flight 1549 that crash landed in the Hudson River talk about how he felt, the three things he discovered about himself. How he never wants to postpone anything in his life anymore and how he is so thankful for the fact he can see his daughters grow up. 

I found this talk inspiring and very respect worthy. Seeing your entire life slipping out of your grasp and into someone else's control must be horrific; there is so much you want to do but you don't know what will happen. I guess that's why everyone discovers things about themselves when they face life threatening situations or are in danger of dying–they might fade away and the fear, the horror of that humbles and enlightens you.

xx tanisha (:

Sunday, 25 November 2012


Music. Light flashes of song in the air; nimble fingers creating breathtaking, gorgeous sounds; something brimming with so much emotion and passion it just connects with you right in the heart. It sets your soul aflame, refreshes your mind and is an outlet for people to escape.

Today I was reminded about my love of music when I restarted my guitar lessons. Music had always been something wonderful and magical too me because when I was younger–about in kindergarten to third grade–I was really shy. I had friends but had trouble interacting with strangers and would drift away in my own little world. Music and words were my escape from the world I had so much trouble in; the trouble which faded abruptly after a sudden change in fourth grade where my previous awkwardness melted away as quickly as it transpired. But the memory of it remained fresh in the back of my mind, swirling around with other distant thoughts and lurking moments.

The strums of the guitar and soft tunes on the piano morphed me into a place where I could converse as easily as any other seven year old and exist in a place where everything was wonderfully happy; a small little haven. The hardship of trying to make my voice as loud as my five best friend's in second grade melted away in that small room where I visited after school on Thursdays, surrounded by guitars, pianos and words. The smell of ink and wonder in the air.

Touching my guitar today made me recall those days spent in that special place–the place where my time as a shy, socially awkward kid were spent after school; the time where my six best friends who were more confident and louder drowned out my voice. 

I guess the memory of who was in second grade will never completely fade whenever there is music or words. 

Wednesday, 14 November 2012

a whisper

The whisper of the willow trees mingling with the soft lullaby of a stream instantly stirs up memories. It relaxes me, calms me; makes me feel wonderfully calm and content without any negative emotion tainting my blood. 

It morphs me into something timeless.

A fragment of the wind–constantly moving, frequently searching but always stubbornly never changing. The gusts of air whether vengeful, soothing or tragic will remain rushing throughout the world; the rays of sunlight kissing flower's petals.

Everlasting. Unforgettable. There.

I don't know why but willow trees and small, quiet streams always elicit a change in me. They make me into one of them–a graceful, eternal willow tree. They weave a spell made from their music though seemingly non existent is present. Always there if you're willing to listen. 

xx tanisha (:

10 Things I Know Are True

1. I hide my anger or sadness when I’m around other people.

2. I loathe it when people judge upon sight–it irks me.

3. The Aurora Borealis is one of the most magical, beautiful sights to grace the world.

4. Beauty is everywhere if you just open your eyes.

5. Grass wouldn’t be green if llamas hadn’t treaded upon earth.

6.. Emoticons make chat fabulous.

7. Travelling is one of the best things about the world–exploring new places, meeting new people.

8. Flaws have their own unique beauty.

9. Warmth, style and color are expressed in fingerless gloves.

10. Invader Gir is the cutest, most adorable, vegetable-like icon in existence.

Those are my ten things that I know to be true.

xx tanisha (:

Tuesday, 13 November 2012


I didn't really want to share my vignettes on my blog however I thought about it for a while and decided to go for it. After all this may be the first of many assignments to post and it wouldn't really achieve anything to just refuse to post them. I edited the four so read on. :3

Sea of Sonance

Happiness warming, sadness piercing my soul as waves washed over my ears. Burning cries of anger raging through the passage of my ears, completing the howling, clashing sea of sound and colour. The water calm and sweet, filled with mermaids singing of happy things and sweet loves and other dark, swirling - roaring hungrily for vengeance and howling with fiery rage.

A lone current swims quietly, weeping. Tears lost deep into the churning pools of water - making an impact; a vibration of sound and bitter tears of lost dreams. The sea is alive, thrumming with vibration, with melody, with passion yet it is not shared with anyone else - not the crowd of dark blurred figures on the far off strip of golden brown sand or the birds rising up ahead.

It is my sea of sonance; drifting farther and farther away from the people on the crowded, battered bus going steadily to the hills and further into my beautiful sea of music.

The Different Sides

Dark, haunting eyes, soft fawn-coloured fur rustling in the wind. Four white socks beautifully contrasting with the tawny pelt bristling with flaring spirit, wild as any stallion as she glides forward. Delicate, smooth paws moving willfully, purposefully without any restraint; a strut to her step and bite to her mew. She carries herself gracefully to the center of the wall; a wall of decisions and acceptance.

A snowy, wavy pelt with a silver tint, gentle observant caramel eyes flickering about languidly. Waves of polished, groomed fur with a sleek tail waving lightly in the breeze. Refined with a certain youth; gullible and sweet with an edge. An edge of complete insanity, of wildness hidden by mannering and grooming of years; an edge revealing itself while she stepped gracefully to the middle.

Browns met; two dark and wild, two calm and sweet. A moment passed, a moment of silence. The two noses touched and the two sides converged; unconsciously becoming a single cat as a click pierced the air; freezing the moment in time forever. The tool was lowered, saving it away with the other little memories and moments.

Tumblr Tree
Millions of tales written on leaves. Intelligent opinions, passionate remarks, irksome stupidity. The sharing of ideas, laughter and wonderfully delightful small treasures around the world:  

Beauty scattered on each bit of foliage with more arriving each day. Being a part of one of the most diverse, unique families in the world. Making yourself well known to your fellow brothers and sisters. Becoming more than the tiny, seemingly insignificant leaf on the ever rising oak tree the leaf appears to be absolutely alike to all the others perched on the branch. But if you peer closer there are differences; tiny details that make each of special and different and one day, some of those leaves will grow into magnificent, bold fronds viewed by the creatures underneath with wonder.

If you look closely, past the obvious, you will discover some of these leaves hiding in the shade. Those are just as pretty, just as unique. And those who notice the hidden finery will be attracted to it; eventually becoming attached and viewing every little step and thing it does while taking pleasure as it begins to grow. Those observers become friends or foes. They offer support but also abuse the leaves withl plucks and pecks of distaste and hate. They alone can help the leaf blossom or wither; help them rise to greater heights or cling closely to the bark.

Ink Stained Fury
The tip of the sword pierced the page as anger welled in me, blue blood spattering across the surface. It attacked; flashing in and out beginning its began its formation with an odd grace. My rage, frustration, hurt began to take shape on the companion; the sweet, mellow creature who endured the fierce assault - allowing emotions to spill out in beautiful, soft azure. Words spun their spell around the struggling sword; words soothing, words whispering. The battle continued fighting anger and trying to tame the emotion onto the palate. The fight wore on–the sword giving one more blow before withdrawing victoriously; leaving behind a beautiful mess of words depicting rage, anger and the battle won of hateful emotion.

The Right Angle
Step to the left, turn to the right. No, not too close. Not too far either. Your eyes narrow slightly, framing a mental picture in your head as you tilt the camera a little.

No! A scowl tugs at your lower lip. You stare at the ballet flat on the pillow; wasn’t it supposed to look gorgeous and creamy? The color of a blush rose, bathed in the rays of sunset?  Not so ugly, grey and creased. Maybe from another angle?

Careful fingers adjust the shoe on the satiny pillow, arranging it diagonal to the window. Eyebrows furrow slightly in concentration while you duck down, holding the camera upright, a click piercing the air. You eye the screen in apprehension, touching the key hesitantly.

An image of a delicately pretty pair of flats fills the screen, bathed in fading light and seemingly aglow. A grin curls your lips, your eyes taking in your hard work with pride, seeing a little of yourself in every picture you take.

Tuesday, 6 November 2012


Okay, so this usually isn't a topic I ever talk about but I am overcome with pairing feels and the emotion so I've decided to release it onto my castle in the air.

I bet it would flood the moat.

Anyway, I'm just so incredibly obsessed with Gadge. The pairing between Gale Hawthorne and Madge Undersee; two characters in The Hunger Games. Two of my favourite characters who I ship and love. They're one of my tags in tumblr–one of my one true pairings.

I sound like a lovestruck fangirl but it's true. I love Gadge. The way they clash, their interactions the small lines of canon in Catching Fire and what could've been.

I'm still angry how Madge died in Catching Fire–the second of the book of the Hunger Games–in the bombing. I mean, why. It was bad enough that Suzanne Collins used Mockingjay as an excuse to end the GalexPeetaxKatniss love triangle but using Madge as a way to do it rather than sending our lovely scowling miner away into District 2 would be so much more interesting. 

Another thorn in my side about Mockingjay is Finnick's death. It happened in a whirlwind of chaos and terror that I'm not even sure it he was properly given the death worthy to him. I mean he was developed, lovable character who I adored and he just died; killed with some confusing paragraph describing how Katniss magically developed telepathic powers and looked into Finnick's mind.

But that's another blog post.

xx tanisha (: