Just a bunch of quick scribblings about what I got up to on Merdeka Day; not sleeping in and luxuriating in bed with a good book and coffee with the air-cond going, I had to up my lazy ass and haul it down to KL for some event I was supposed to be covering for R.Age. It was a live gig+bazaar+fashion show shindig organised by the Angkatan Baju Malaya.

I seriously loved the funky shirts on display.  Damn you, lack of money *crosses arms and looks grumpy*. Ok lah so maybe I did have money, but I’m trying to be prudent ok. I seem to have held out extraordinarily well over the last few seven months (two months exactly to seeing Tim again! Huzzah!) not shopping, so I’m not about to go and screw that up.

The event was in Central Market. I have not been to Central Market in years, not since I was a little kid, I reckon. I mean, I did walk through once, when I was in form 5, but that was a brief exploration I think. Can’t remember now. Hm.

I know this will sound terrible of me, but the moment I got off at the Pasar Seni LRT stop my first instinct was to clutch my bag close to my chest, lower my head, and walk as quickly as I could through the crowd. I don’t normally think of myself as xenophobic, but the sheer volume of people, most accurately, foreigners, that were eyeballing and catcalling and just all round looking at me made me feel like I was strutting around naked.

Brr. I hate walking around KL alone.

Anyway the event was held in the Annexe, which is a really cool way of putting ‘narrow alley’. There were about 15 brands selling their stuff, mostly to young punky-looking folk. I think I stood out like a sore thumb, but no worries, I survived.

I even made a new friend in between being hot and bothered in the possibly 35-degree heat. I wandered into this little shop where this old man with a red beret perched jauntily on his head was painting an assortment of ferns and foliage on a large sheet of paper. He kept inviting me in to look around, and I marveled at his fine strokes, the mixtures of watercolours (I adore watercolours), the paintings, which all revolved around themes of nature. I was also impressed with a collection of newspaper clippings of him with various dignitaries, including our former Prime Minister.

We ended up having a long chat (I was enjoying the cool breeze generated by his fan, haha) and he showed me his portfolio of paintings, and spoke of the importance of asking good questions, following one’s heart and facing up to challenges.

I took a photo of him, for my own collection. I just felt compelled to, don’t ask me why. But I shan’t name him, or put his picture up, because I expressly told him it wasn’t for publication. All I will say is that I enjoyed our talk very much and walked away feeling very much more lighthearted than when I arrived.

I love looking at paintings. I actually wanted to capture a picture of the old lady in the tudung sitting in the background, but  felt intrusive. So I took this :/ I really do need a better camera.

Some of the performances were really good. Some were just too screamy. I don’t like screamy.

Funky T’s! I think that might be my shadow.

There were some pretty cool murals painted along the Klang River near the LRT stop and Post Office. I like arty-farty things.

What I don’t like, are squishy-squashy LRTs and people who don’t bathe or use deodorant *wrinkles nose*.

I’m going back next week for the50:44 Coalition event as I promised to help a friend run a workshop she’s running, with migrant children. I’m really looking forward to it

Later at night, I headed to Hartamas with Sushers and Nick (acting as the third wheel, regardless of what Sush says) for the Digi Sunrise Jazz Festival as their other friends canceled at the last minute. Nick was horrified that Sush and I were so nicely dressed. “I told you dress cincai right! Melody, sure your fault one!” he howled when he saw us as he was only clad in the Triple S combination epitomising the Malaysian Cincai-ness— shorts, slippers and a singlet.

Heh, oh well. I got to joyride in his dad’s Beemer (I was beaming in the backseat as I felt so nice and loved in the cushiony bosom of the leather seats) with the cool LCD display and sensors aplenty. I don’t know my cars, but I sure do love Beemers. Must’ve been my lucky day as I got to sit in two yesterday—Susher’s dad’s and Nick’s dad’s.

The performers for the second half of the night was this amazing group from Indonesia called Saharadja. They had this awesomely sexy electric violinist from Perth who swayed her hips in time to the beat, and all three of us were full-on checking her out. Plus, she was utterly breathtaking with the violin. I was also tickled at the guy playing the didgeridoo—it’s so cool la. I’ve been in such a Xavier Rudd/didgeridoo mood since last night; I was absolutely stunned.

I LOVE THE JAZZ FESTIVAL. I’d go more often if I actually knew how to get to Hartamas, and had the balls to drive there without worrying I’d end up in Kuala Kangsar (nevermind if it’s in the wrong direction), and if I weren’t so busy. Pfft. I’m upset I miss the one last week, with Arthur Kam and Sheila Majid.

Nothing like good music to get me in a good mood

The only non-blurry pic of the night. The chick on-screen was the vocalist; for someone so tiny she had an enormous voice. Powerful and clear, and oh-so enviable. Why oh why am I so musically un-inclined.

Sushers and myself and yummy yummy Starbucks frappuccinos.

I sleepy now. Off to beddy-byes.

Honestly, I need to rethink my social priorities. It is a weekend, my parents are in Kuantan, and I’m at home in bed by 12. What is this, man. I am practically giving up my youth.