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The feeling of missing the sea, is difficult to understand.
I guess..
only if one has grown up beside it for twenty odd years, and then left the nest,
to seek a future in a forest of concrete,
does one start to miss it,
deeply.

So, to ease the pain, only photographs, taken on a trip home, to search myself.



A a child, I would take my papa's hand in one ,and a stalk of weed (with that whitish top thingee) in the other hand, and go for evening walks,
here, at the seafront at Portuguese Settlement. My favourite part, the wooden jetty..now gone,
now replaced.
And so, because all is unrecognizable, I am reminded,
so am I.
Remnants of the carefree child, now gone, now replaced.
But stronger,
somehow,
determined to survive, to live,
to build my own happiness.


P/s-now listening to:



La chanteuse Bretagne, Cecile Corbel, whom I discovered because she's composing the OST for the New Ghibli Project

Incidently, En la mar is about a woman in a tower,
by the sea..