Legs ready to dance at the slightest hint of music. My dance string has been yanked after a decade of hibernation. Thanks Kuta!
Lamentations, oh how good were those days, while the boss gives me that glare and more work.
Some gradually depleting odds and ends.
First, Arak. Bitter, strong and queasy morning after.
Second, hand made delicious smelling soaps. Sweet odour on my clothes where they lie till used.
Third, grand masks that stare.
Fourth, Asian horror that scares. The ones I really liked till now – Alone, Memory and Death Bell. Much better than the horror Hollywood makes. Some of the movies though have subtitles which get cut off by the side. I struggled for hours to get it right, but then how much did I need to comprehend in horror flicks anyway? School girl ghouls, murderous enchantress, gleaming knives, spouting blood – it’s all there. Right up my alley.
And of course, some lovely art work.
Mostly, fond memories.
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