HOMEWARD BOUND

My trip home to Malaysia last month has left me with many wonderful memories of who I am and why I’m proud to call myself a Malaysian. I dreaded the 13 hour flight but when the plane landed and the pilot said 'and to all Malaysians welcome home’,  my heart missed a beat.

What is Malaysia that I call home?

It is a land that boasts of many dialects and languages. 

What fascinates me most is our own ‘brand’ of spoken English that we fondly call Malaysian English. It never fails to make me smile when I listen to the concoction of different words in a sentence that might make no sense at all to a non-Malaysian.

Take for instance a father speaking to his toddler daughter . The father was carrying the little girl as they stepped on the escalator. We were standing a few steps below them when the little girl’s slipper fell off. A lady picked it up, rushed up the escalator and gave it to the father.

So the father told the little girl, “See-lah you. Just drop your slipper like that. Good thing, the nice aunty saw it and quickly- quickly gave it to me.”

The words ‘nice aunty’ really warmed my heart. In Malaysia, any older female who is not a blood relation is a sister or an aunt.  This is a mark of respect as we don’t call people who are older than us by their first name. I must admit that I enjoyed it thoroughly when even Uber drivers called me aunty.

It is a land of hospitality and generosity.

Our  short vacation was jammed packed with activities that revolved around family and friends. We went south to Johor, my home state and then to Melaka and Kuantan.  Friends separated by time and space bothered to get together to celebrate, just because we came home. 

Primary and secondary school friends treated us to sumptuous meals and gave us presents and local delicacies to bring back to Ireland.

A friend even brought us to her orchard and it was an Eden experience to be surrounded by dragon fruit, bananas, papayas, breadfruit, passion fruit and soursop. As mosquitos were swarming round, we made sure we had a good spray of mosquito repellent. The icing of the cake was when we saw weaver bird’s nests that were so intricately woven.

We also visited Tengku Mariam Primary school where I first started my formal studies. Fences and man-made structures had replaced the lush tropical foliage that once surrounded the school. We used to play hop-scotch or tag or run on the sides of the drain but I guess millennial children do not do that anymore. I remember having to recite the Rukunegara (National Principles) before 600 children during the school assembly and it was fun re-enacting the event at the exact spot beneath the flags to an empty field.

We also visited High School Batu Pahat where I did my Form 6. One of my classmates is a teacher there and we had tea in the canteen - the difference was we sat in the room where the teachers sat and not in the student area.

When we went to Melaka, we met up with my university course mates and visited the House of Museums which threw me back to the 60s and 70s when my mother used the wood stove for cooking and set her hair in curlers under the ‘big hat’. We were also treated to wonderful meals and watched others do the waltz, the swing and the rumba to  Michael Buble’s Sway.

It is a land that boasts of friendliness among complete strangers.

After Melaka we went to  Kuantan and I wanted to visit the batik centre.. I went to the tour desk to call for a taxi but another hotel guest who overheard my request offered to give me a lift since he was going there himself. After the visit, I waited for a bus but there was no bus in-sight for a long time. Again a lovely lady with very young children stopped her car and gave me a lift back to the hotel.

It is a land where you drift seamlessly into your younger self and just let your hair down with your best friend. Michael and I went for the swings, the see saw and the slide when no one was looking and chased crabs in the sand.  

So I look forward to coming back again to the land where I was born. Being home is an indescribable feeling even though it was only for 3 weeks. Somehow I even enjoyed the sun, something I never really liked before.

THIS ARTICLE WAS ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED IN THE NEW STRAITS TIMES MALAYSIA 8 OCT 2017 https://www.nst.com.my/opinion/columnists/2017/10/288630/homeward-bound

HAVE I CHANGED?

I was having lunch with a friend the other day and she asked me whether I have changed. Like myself, she is non-Irish but have settled in this land for quite a number of years.

Whether or not a person changes for the better or worse in a new environment depends on a number of factors like age, self esteem, the company she keeps,  and of course how she has been brought up.

I remember being in the presence of many Asian parents who were afraid that their children might ‘change’ when they went overseas for their studies. The parents were afraid that their children would fall prey to sexual permissiveness and abandon their cultural and ethnic values as well as religious beliefs.

When I go to town, I’m often approached by groups wishing to secure support for a certain cause like gay rights or abortion on demand. There are petitions to ban this and that. We have humans in shark suits protesting the killing of sharks and others in whale suits protesting the killing of whales. There was also an incident when a group of animal rights activists freed nine lobsters by walking into a Dublin restaurant and taking them from the fish tank before returning them to the ocean.

I stand by my principles.

A principle is a general and fundamental guideline that is used in deciding conduct and choice. 

Sometimes it is not easy to do that especially when others seem to think that the principles are archaic and irrelevant to present day society. What was acceptable before is now deemed unacceptable and what was important is now deemed trivial, if you catch my drift.

First and foremost is honouring our parents and those who are generally older than us. Honouring is being respectful in word and action and having an inward attitude of esteem for their position. The Greek word for honour means “to revere, prize, and value.” Honour is giving respect not only for merit but also for rank.

Dr Leonard Sax in his book ‘The Collapse of Parenting’ points out the reasons why the present day trend is for the younger set to be disrespectful. In an interview with the Associated Press, Dr Sax talked about a 10-year-old boy who was engrossed in playing a game on his mobile phone while he (the doctor) was discussing with his mom about his stomach ache. The boy said, ‘Shut up, mom, you don’t know what you’re talking about’ and laughed. The mother did nothing.

The boundaries between parent and child have become blurred. Sometimes you wonder who is the parent and who is the child because the parent strives to become a ‘friend’ and he believes that it is the child’s state of ‘happiness’ that matters most.

I see it all the time where young people are so ‘awesome’, they can do no wrong nor accept constructive criticism.

Sometime ago, I was teaching a group how to make a craft project. All the participants were very creative and came up with lovely pieces of work. There was a participant who took great pride in her work and put in a lot of effort. I looked at it and said it was good. She was mortified because she expected me to heap praises on her work and maybe set it as a benchmark for others to follow. So she defended herself loudly. ‘I think it is fabulous. Whatever you say, I think it is fantastic.’ What she didn’t realise was that I had seen excellent, good and mediocre pieces of work and hers was no where near excellence.

J.M. Barrie creator of Peter Pan wrote, “Life is a long lesson in humility.” How true.

Other principles that I hold dear are mindfulness, integrity, accountability and delivery. It is being considerate and being sensitive to others – their needs and perceptions – spoken or otherwise. It is being appreciative and true. It is being able to say ‘No’ if you are not comfortable with doing something even if the person asking you for the favour is someone you know quite well.

I’m a person of my word; I expect the same from others.

It is saying what you mean and meaning what you say. I am constantly surrounded by people who give you the run around because you can never be sure whether they mean what they say.

It is taking up a responsibility and being able to carry out the task. There are those who love to hold posts but conveniently forget that posts come with responsibilities.

So to my friend who asked me whether I have changed. 

I paused and then said, ‘ Physical measurements, yes. Principles, no.’

THIS ARTICLE WAS ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED IN THE NEW STRAITS TIMES MALAYSIA ON 24 SEPTEMBER 2017. https://www.nst.com.my/opinion/columnists/2017/09/283387/have-i-changed

THE CHARM OF RURAL LIVING

When the weather is fine – meaning it is not raining – the first thought is sieze the day and go for a spin in the countryside. Although the beloved and I have visited all 32 counties in Ireland, there are so many quaint villages and towns that are waiting to be explored.

We decided to go to Fethard in County Tipperary for no particular reason.

During Edward 1’s reign, fortified market towns were established. Fethard’s town walls rise to a height of 25 feet and Fethard has the most complete medieval circuit in Ireland.

 Historic sights include the Knockelly Castle and the Augustinian Friary.  In fact, Fethard began with the coming of the Anglo-Normans to Ireland eight centuries ago.

Small towns teach me a lot about country people.

I walked up to a local man who had a stick in his hand and there were some geese about him. He had actually brought the geese to a nearby river for a swim.

‘You need to be careful with geese you know’ he said.

‘Why, will they attack me?’ I asked.

‘Oh no, they are messy birds. There is so much to clean after them. But they lay good eggs.’ he explained.

‘I haven’t seen goose eggs before. What colour are they?’ I asked.

' They are white alright. Each is the size of four hen eggs’ he added.

The little conversation developed from geese to historic sights. He even offered detailed instructions on how to enter the castle if the gate was closed. He then drew my attention to an ancient pagan fertility effigy (Sheela-na-gig) carved on one of its walls. This creature would be easily overlooked if you were none the wiser.

I thought that he was very friendly and helpful. I could see the pride and the sense of belonging in his eyes.

We decided to check out the Augustinian friary. The mosaic work on the ground and the stained glass windows are exquisite, a reflection of talent and hard work. The old tombstones tower majestically and there is a sense of awesomeness in all their silence.

As we walked along the pavement of the Main Street we passed by three senior ladies who were busy chatting. They seemed to have known each other all their lives and were sharing common experiences.The moment they saw us they stopped their chatter and greeted us. We obviously did not blend in with the local colour. We had only passed them for about ten minutes when one lady walked up to us and asked whether we were looking for something to eat.

I was in fact eyeing a modern fancy restaurant across the road which had received good reviews on TripAdvisor. I asked her whether the food was any good there. I could sense that she wasn’t exactly enthusiastic about that restaurant and recommended another old time eatery. She said she preferred hearty meals to ‘rabbit’ food, referring to healthy salads and such.

I was mostly amused and not surprised that she recommended the old time eatery. It was all about familiarity with a certain lifestyle or a certain cuisine and certainly an underlying loyalty to old establishments.

True enough when we passed by the modern restaurant, I saw  a pretty younger crowd inside, feeding on ‘rabbit’ food  that came with big prices.

I have lived in the city for the most part of my life and enjoy the conveniences that go with it. City life is vibrant and on-the-go. There is no lack of  excitement as I am in the heart of noise and there is not a dull moment.

Small towns are peaceful and I feel very safe. There is no fear of snatch thefts or being mugged. Most of all, I do not need to hold on to my handbag tightly. There is this rural charm that is a breath of fresh air. I could sense the laid back idyllic atmosphere as if the earth is spinning more slowly in these  parts. We could never have enough of it and that is what drives us to go search out these hideouts ever so often.

So I’m checking the September calendar to plan our next trip to explore another small town again.



THIS ARTICLE WAS ORIGINALLY PRINTED IN THE NEW STRAITS TIMES MALAYSIA
2 SEPTEMBER 2017
http://digital.nstp.com.my/nst/books/nstnews/2017/20170903nstnews/index.html#/23/

AIMING FOR THE BEST, REACHING FOR THE HIGHEST

I am a staunch advocate of aiming for the best and reaching for the highest in every aspect of life, as according to one’s abilities.

When I was a student I set my mind on entering Malaysia’s top university then. I remember I was given three university choices in the application form. I put down the name of the same university for all the three choices.

So when it was my youngest daughter, Audrey’s turn to apply for a place in the university, I encouraged her to go for Trinity College Dublin because Trinity College Dublin offers excellent resources for her course and continues to be Ireland’s top university. It is the only university in Ireland in the top 150 universities in the world according to the Times Higher Rankings. It joins the universities of Oxford, Cambridge and Edinburgh among 25 other top listed universities drawn from 11 countries over the age of 400.

The question that comes to my mind is ‘Why do you limit your life’s ambition?’ Why do we sell ourselves short because of insecurities or fear? 

We think we need ‘connections’ to get ahead. 

I remember my daughter telling me that her friends knew ‘so and so’ to get them that job placement. Discouragement set in as we have no ‘connections’ since we are not Irish and I encouraged her to believe in her abilities and that there is still merit in hard work. There is also divine intervention for those who are faithful. It is our choice to soar like an eagle even when surrounded by chickens and naysayers.

Take for example attending a job interview.

It is not unusual for renowned companies to have as many as five stages of interviews or more before they select the applicants that they want.

During her final year at the university, Audrey applied for different top graduate programmes. 

A graduate programme is a stimulating one to two year programme with hugely empowering training structures. It also includes the support of dedicated mentors who are focussed on the new entrant - her development needs and career objectives. Upon completing the programme she is given the opportunity to be part of the company.

The advantage of a graduate programme is that an undergraduate enters into the job market seamlessly while others are still searching for jobs and sending in their resumes.

So she applied for different graduate programmes and although the interviews were similar some of them had different things. The majority of them had about 2000-3000 applicants each for 10 – 20 vacancies.

This is an example of what she went through.

Stage 1: Online application with CV attached and short questions on why she is the essential candidate for the job.

Stage 2: Online psychometric testing for numeric ability, verbal ability, personality and shape matching 

Stage 3: In-person competency-based interview with one current graduate and one Human Resource manager

Stage 4: Group assessment (with other competitors) to solve 3 challenges on the day itself.

·  Challenge 1: She was presented with a hypothetical case study of a business seeking to expand with limited funds. She had 20 mins to prepare a presentation to argue what she would do within the budget.

·  Challenge 2: She was presented with a hypothetical case study of running a new business project. She had to engage in a group discussion with others to decide on what should be done. There was no final presentation.

·  Challenge 3: She attended a competency-based interview with an organisational psychologist and company staff.

Stage 5: Interview with senior manager of chosen department.

All I can say is that I am glad I escaped that gruelling experience. 

I only attended one interview in my life after graduation and I became a lecturer at Universiti Teknologi MARA and I kept that vocation for 27 years because I enjoyed teaching and loved my students. I still do.

So, bring on September! That is when Audrey embarks on a new life with a prestigious company. She has made it to the top 10 out of 2000 applicants from Ireland, the UK and the EU.  

I attribute that to hard work and divine intervention.

. 
THIS ARTICLE WAS ORIGINALLY PRINTED IN THE NEW STRAITS TIMES MALAYSIA
 20 AUGUST 2017

https://www.nst.com.my/opinion/columnists/2017/08/270033/aiming-best-reaching-highest

ART IS IMAGINATIVE, SENSITIVE

I normally scan through the week’s television programmes to record movies and documentaries that I would watch (minus the advertisements) at a later date. One of the recent ones that caught my attention was Vermeer, Beyond Time aired over RTE (Raidió Teilifís Éireann) in conjunction with the exhibition of Johannes Vermeer’s works which runs from 17 June till 17 September at the National Art Gallery in Dublin.

Johannes Vermeer perhaps is most famous for his painting entitiled ‘The Girl with a Pearl Earring’ which is a tronie of a girl with a headscarf and a pearl earring. Today, together with the old masters, he is much treasured and well known but not surprisingly, relatively undiscovered during his time – the short lived Dutch Golden Age of the 17^th century.

So I purchased a ticket and walked through the halls trying to absorb the magnificence of the works of the masters that hung on the walls. Besides Vermeer’s paintings, there was also a great collection of works done by Gerrit Dou, Caspar Netscher, Frans van Mieris, Gerard ter Borch, Jan Steen and others.

Art is imaginative and sensitive at the same time – the way light and colour interplay to evoke different perspectives across similar themes. As I listened to the recorded description of each painting, I couldn’t help feeling that I was in the very room itself where the artist was trying to capture that smile, that side glance and that movement of the eye. It was like a privileged intrusion into the world and life of the master and observing the cultured women, the maids and the curious minds of learned men. It was peeking into domestic interior scenes of middle class life of another era.

It is difficult for me to choose a favourite. But I really like The Lacemaker. According to the art historian Lawrence Gowing,

"The achievement of Vermeer's maturity is complete. It is not open to extension: no universal style is discovered. We have never the sense of abundance that the characteristic jewels of his century gives us, the sense that the precious vein lies open, ready to be worked. There is only one 'Lacemaker': we cannot imagine another. It is a complete and single definition."

To me, the allure of art can best be enjoyed alone or with a like-minded companion. It is a form of meditation, evoking feelings and responses hidden in the recesses of your soul. You can leave the snarky and angry world outside and imbibe the enriching quiet education. It’s totally different from viewing art over the internet which I liken to looking at a rainbow through the windowpane instead of being outdoors and enjoying its full essence.

I know what it is like not to be recognised for what you are worth. It is often said that a prophet is not accepted in his own town - Vincent Van Gogh, Paul Gauguin  and Georges-Pierre Seurat are victims amongst others.

Coming from the Delft, Vermeer too had moderate publicity and sank into obscurity after his death. His works were largely overlooked by art historians for two centuries after his death. He was rediscovered in the 19th century by Gustav Friedrich Waagen and Théophile Thoré-Bürger, who attributed 66 pictures to him in an essay, although only 34 paintings are considered his today.

I know what it is like to live in limited means. Vermeer evidently was not wealthy as he left his wife and children in debt at his death at 43. He used expensive pigments and produced relatively few paintings because he was meticulous in his work and sometimes even taking time to paint over his original images when he felt that less is more.

I know what it is like for your works to be ‘claimed’ by others. Some unscrupulous dealers apparently painted over Vermeer’s signatures on his paintings. They then forged the signatures of more renowned artists on his art in the hope of getting higher prices.

This was my second visit to the National Art Gallery in Dublin and I thought that the whole exhibition was very well done. As I was leaving the hall, a friendly staff approached me and asked me what I thought about the exhibition.

I told him how I felt and asked if he had seen it himself. He said he had been working there for the past 30 years and knew every nook and cranny of the gallery. We exchanged pleasantries and before I took leave, he asked, ‘Are you single or married?’

‘Married’, I said with a smile.

THIS ARTICLE WAS ORIGINALLY PRINTED IN THE NEW STRAITS TIMES MALAYSIA 
6 AUGUST 2017....https://www.nst.com.my/opinion/columnists/2017/08/264596/art-imaginative-sensitive

PADDINGTON BEAR'S CREATOR LEAVES A LEGACY OF LOVE

I have a number of favourite writers and poets and sometimes I forget that they, like myself, are only human and that they do not live forever. Frank McCourt, Maeve Binchy, Elie Wiesel and Seamus Heaney. And lately Michael Bond who died at age 91 about a month ago on 27 June.

Michael who? Michael Bond, the creator of the marmalade loving Paddington Bear.  

I have unashamedly amassed a number of Paddington paraphernalia – an umbrella, a key holder, buttons, washi tape and an 18 inch bear complete with his signature duffle coat and wellies.  I saw the Paddington movie three times, (once on the big screen and twice over the television) because of the bear and because of Hugh Bonneville, who plays Mr Brown. When I went with my friends to see the movie, I brought along little tubs of marmalade for everyone, just to be in solidarity with the bear.

I even made a special trip to Paddington station. I was secretly hoping to see Paddington sitting on a small suitcase near the lost property office, wearing a hat.  I felt how the bear felt – lost - when he first arrived as a stowaway, sent by his Aunt Lucy who has gone to live in the Home for Retired Bears in Lima.  I could not resist standing beside the little statue of Paddington Bear at the station.

What makes Michael Bond’s creation so endearing?

Basically it is the connection.

When we attend a social event it is inevitable that we need to mingle. Imagine talking to a group of people who bore your socks off. The first reaction is to wish that the event will end quickly and you can go home. The same goes with the characters in a book – you either love them or hate them.

So I connect with Paddington.

He is honest and kind and has very good manners. It is hard not to love someone with good manners, even more so a bear!

It is also the sorry feeling for an unwanted toy. Michael Bond was searching for a gift for his wife on Christmas eve in 1956 when he came across a teddy bear all alone on a shelf. Clearly he was a last minute shopper and he ‘adopted’ Paddington. That was the humble beginnings of a famous bear.

Paddington came from a different land. Originally Bond wanted him to come from darkest Africa but he was informed by his agent that Africa does not have bears. The bear was a refugee seeking a new home on foreign soil. Because of his cross cultural background, Paddington was chosen in 1994, by English tunnellers as the first item to pass through the Channel Tunnel to their French counterparts when the two sides were linked up. There are over 35 million copies of Paddington books sold worldwide which have been translated into 40 languages. This bear has inspired pop bands, race horses, plays, hot air balloons, a television series and a movie.

According to Bond, Paddington’s universal appeal is due to the ‘Paddington-type situations’ that happen all over the world – the fun times and the mishaps.

I was first introduced to wellies by Paddington. There was no need for me to wear wellies in the city where I was born but I knew about them because of Paddington. Now I have three pairs of wellies of different designs and heights and I can identify with the bear when I trudge into puddles, mud and bog.

Then there is this label around Paddinton’s neck when he first arrived in London which read: ‘Please look after this bear.’ It reminds me of a visit to a school in 1970. It was Chefoo School in Brinchang in Cameron Highlands which functioned as a school for the children of missionaries and the curriculum was based on the British education system. The children were away on holidays at that time and on one of the bunk beds I saw a well-cuddled bear with the same label on its neck. That stopped me in my tracks and I wondered how the child would have felt living in a residential school and also having to leave her favourite toy behind when she went home for the holidays.

Bond’s first book was published in 1958 and his last in 2017, a span of 59 years. The next Paddington movie will be released at the end of this year. On the last day of the shooting, Michael Bond passed away. He left behind legions of fans, his family, his guinea pigs and most of all the much loved bear

from darkest Peru.

THIS ARTICLE WAS ORIGINALLY PRINTED IN THE NEW STRAITS TIMES MALAYSIA 
23 JULY 2017
https://www.nst.com.my/opinion/columnists/2017/07/259876/paddington-bears-creator-leaves-legacy-love

THROUGH THE LENS: PLEASURE IN PHOTOGRAPHY

I remember buying a camera with my pocket money. It was a prized possession and I had to load it with a roll of film. Once the film was used up, I couldn’t wait to get it developed at the shop around the corner. There was no way I could have a sneak peak of what the photos would look like. Most times they came up average-looking with one or two over or under exposed. But at 13, I was not fussy.

Photography as a hobby has come a long way.

My son Samuel is into photography big time. When we go on family holidays he has an extra backpack where he puts in his wide variety of gadgets and filters and lenses, to be sure, to be sure. Presently I am using my second DSLR and the difference between Samuel and myself is I am afraid to experiment on manual mode for fear that not a single one of the pictures taken manually would turn out the way that I pictured in my head.

I decided that the way to overcome fear is to confront fear itself. So I joined an advanced photography class conducted by Jim Finn at the Killaloe-Ballina Family Resource Centre. Jim is an excellent teacher and he takes the time to answer any question, however trivial it may sound. The class participants are a lovely crowd who freely share what they know.

There is a different kind of feeling when you walk the streets armed with a camera. Almost immediately people mistake me for a tourist. (Having said that, without the camera, people still mistake me for a tourist even though I have been here for a good few years now.) You often meet people who are more interested in your camera than yourself, which is not a bad thing altogether because it becomes a conversation starter. Then you have friends and family who will gladly inform you where you can get the best shots of rivers, rubble and roses. After all the pictures have been taken, you choose the best to print or put them up on social media. That is what I would do anyway but I know of some who would post 111 photos of an event at any one time on facebook with themselves in 110 of them.

The pleasure in photography is waiting for the right shot.

I was up in the Wicklow mountains recently and saw some lovely horses. As Murphy’s law goes, I did not have the zoom lens with me. So I crept up stealthily to get a good view. The horses saw me approaching and did not seem to mind as they were as curious of me as I was of them. Just as I was about to capture a beautiful shot, the twig that I was holding on to, snapped. The horses bolted in fright and any hope of a good picture vanished, not unlike the disappointed fisherman regaling the tale of the whopper that got away.

The pleasure in photography is looking for something different in the mundane. You can look at a tree and see a tree. You can also look at a tree and see the knots and the grooves and wonder how old the tree is. If the tree could talk, it could tell stories of people taking cover or having picnics or arguments under it. The beautiful tunnel-like avenue of intertwined beech trees planted in the 18^th century in Ballymoney, County Antrim has been there long before it became famous in the Game of Thrones and voted number 1 in the must-see list on TripAdvisor Ireland.

The pleasure in photography is in the unexpected, a bonus even. I am talking about photographing a flower at Glenstal Abbey and then out of nowhere a bee lands on it. So I can zoom in on the bee as well, stripes, sting and all. However, we also hear of photographs that have been spoiled by the unexpected appearance of an unintended subject in the camera’s field of view as the picture was taken. Yes, the photo bomb. Some are quite hilarious actually especially animal photobombs.

The pleasure in photography is in the chasing. I’m talking about the actual running after a person or object to get some good shots. I remember in 2014 a giant 25 foot grandmother of a puppet roamed the streets of Limerick as part of the Limerick City of Culture celebrations. She was followed by 27 Lilliputians who were tasked with moving the Giant Granny, her own band of musicians and a massive wheelchair - weighing 5 tonnes. I was so enthralled I could not stay put at one spot but had to walk the whole length of O Connell Street alongside the Giant Granny, so I did not miss anything. In my excitement, I forgot to inform the beloved (who was standing with me on that spot for a minute). He then realised the next minute that I had disappeared. The street is about a mile in length, starting at the Arthurs Quay / Denmark Street junction and ends at the Crescent.

I still have a long way to go in photography but I am learning. Believe me there is such joy in learning something that is evolving each day and the beauty of it is I can never say that I know it all.

THIS ARTICLE WAS ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED IN THE NEW STRAITS TIMES MALAYSIA ON 9 JULY 2017
https://www.nst.com.my/node/255702