If tomorrow we disappear, I want to remember life as it is. As a cycle of life.
2012 has been a year of calling. And now I recall.
Of remembering my first step arriving in Dharamsala, the first snow that fall in my face and saying to myself that it is not a dream.
Of remembering the sea and remembering the mountain.
Of remembering the many sunrise and many sunset all over the places.
Of remembering the feel of home and the feel of going away.
Of remembering the good times and the bad ones.
Of remembering the death and be among the living.
Of remembering to let go of your hate to feel loved.
Of remembering to share to feel rich.
Of remembering to throw all your emotional baggage in the exact bin.
Of remembering what is important and who really matters.
Of remembering in order to reconstruct you have to deconstruct and it’s a pain, and all of it goes away in the end.
Of remembering that the past help you to move on to the future and to be in the present.
Of remembering your own darkness and to make it your best friend in peace.
That going outside is merely to go deep inside yourself.
And in the end remember your balance.
That in the end, beauty stays. No matter what.
The last two months, after my trips from Rembang, I fall sick. I stop everything. Turn out I also need for my wisdom teeth to be pull out. Turn out also wisdom did not left me although it prolong my sickness. Sickness also is not always physical.
I’ve been sick, tired and overworked. I’ve been broken from time to time. But I have learn that I could heal myself. That the hardest thing when you feel dark is to wake up to the light. And that the undying light itself is within yourself. I learn that my parents name me, Dian, not for nothing. It mean to be the candle that never died.
And that every lesson are trying to teach you the same thing until you learn. That by learning to listen and see the universe, you realized how things are connected. Now and again. You learn and grow. And even, if tomorrow we disappear, I choose to wake up to the light.
Sam: I know. It’s all wrong. By rights we shouldn’t even be here. But we are. It’s like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger, they were. And sometimes you didn’t want to know the end. Because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it’s only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with you. That meant something, even if you were too small to understand why. But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do understand. I know now. Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn’t. They kept going. Because they were holding on to something.
Frodo: What are we holding onto, Sam?
Sam: That there’s some good in this world, Mr. Frodo… and it’s worth fighting for.
The Lord of the Rings – J.R. Tolkiens
 2012 – My first sunrise in Ternate, turn out that Sultan Tidore just passed away and the coffin come out right under my seat. Photo courtesy of Labodalih Sembiring.
 2012 – Me in my Kashmiri slippers while drying my boots after a snow fall the night before, at Ladies Venture, Mcleod Ganj – Dharamsala
 2005 – My long time converse sneakers, on a ferry boat trip from Merak to Bakauheuni, on the way to Lampung, it was my family last trip together before my mother got sick
 2012 – Sunset in Sale, Rembang among the teak forest
 2006 – My mother on her 60th birthday, two months before she died, we were from the hospital from her last chemotherapy and ate lunch in her most favorite restaurant of her lifetime, Trio Restaurant, Cikini, Jakarta
 2006 – Farabi’s farewell dinner to Netherland and sleepover, minutes before my flight to Jakarta when both of my parents were critical in the hospital
 2006 – My father with my brother, reading a birthday card from me, my father first birthday without my mother
 2012 – Me and my son, Asabhumy, at our house in Jogjakarta
 2012 – The AMAN Media team going home from Dodola Island, Morotai
 2012 – Me in North Java Sea, Lasem coast
 2012 – The books from New Delhi and my son, Asabhumy. My soul mates and best friends in Sangam Restaurant on Losar 2012, Labodalih Sembiring and Abmi Handayani, photo taken by Jean Pascal Elbaz
 2010 – Finishing my tatto series of Om Mane Padme Hum, with Munir Toxic Tatto, Jogjakarta, photo taken by Megan Ryan
 1965 – My father at 24 and my mother at 19, Buitenzorg, the photo taken by my father’s best friend who become a photographer later on (I forgot his name). It was the year when they started going out, it is also the year when darkness swept Indonesian contemporary lives.
 2005 – Buddha in Borobudur Temple
 2012 – Me in my journey from Ternate to Sofifi, Mount Gamalama at my back. Photo courtesy by Labodalih Sembiring
 2012 – My son at the back of Inna’s house, Nitiprayan – Jogjakarta
 2012 – My hot pink nails and a small white butterfly in Tobelo, in the middle of AMAN Congress. Photo courtesy by Labodalih Sembiring.
 2012 – Me doing a warrior yoga pose at the dock of Dodola Island, Morotai. Photo courtesy by Labodalih Sembiring.