nido

It's been 3 months since my godbro's passing. I missed my opportunity to pay my last respects or attend his funeral, and I was quite depressed with that fact that I didn't say goodbye when I could. For the past 3 months I busied myself keeping on with moving on. Living so far apart, we weren't as close as I would've liked, but that didn't stop me from missing his online presence. I was angry at how our mutual friends could bounce back into everyday normalcy within weeks, I couldn't bear hearing them talk about travel plans and gatherings. I wanted to wave my fist at them and shout but he's dead, why are you guys so happy!

I know why. Being sad is so tiring. Being angry with the neverending why is so tiring. I'm afraid there will come a time when I don't think about him every day, and that scares me. I don't want to forget about him. But I also don't want to hear "there's something wrong with you since you changed the hair but I cannot pinpoint it" or "you are just grey and lifeless these days" from friends and colleagues. I'm slowly sinking into a bottomless abyss of gloom and I have to snap out of it before it's too late. I get ill easier and tire faster these days. It's amazing (and scary) how powerful and tempting and easy this negativity is. Enough.

Nido had awesome photography skills (to me, and it's all that mattered). He's the one who encouraged me to fumble and learn my way in finding the perfect angle, perfect moment to capture a picture that tells a story without words. Even if that means standing in the cold, waiting, waiting for a leaf to fall from the branch.

Yea he's crazy about photography like that. He could haul the heaviest equipment to other countries and stand in the same spot for 3 hours just for one shot. ONE! I used to say, traveling with Nido must be very torturous. Look who's talking, now I'm torturing my travelmates. Although the same level of enthusiasm doesn't mean same level of output quality. Shuddup, I'm learning ok, learning!

This series of waterfall shots are my favourite, and I wouldn't stop bugging him to develop a poster-size one for me. He'd laugh it off, saying that a poster would cost him a bomb. Ok and here's when things get a little... surreal. After he died, I asked a mutual friend to check if his parents are releasing his photo album... and if I could have a waterfall film to develop it myself. She didn't get back to me and I didn't pursue the matter further.

I was cleaning my room to prepare to shift to my new apartment (or rather, dumping my stuff there and take off to London) when I discovered a letter from Nido which I have absolutely no recollection of receiving and opening. But apparently I did, so I opened (reopened?) the envelope and 4 photos dropped out. And one of them... the waterfall. It was sent on January 2006. I'm not gonna say anything further here. I'm happy (and sad) enough with the pictures.

Thanks, Nido. For everything you've done, given and taught. From now on I'll take the pictures. And one day, I'll trace your footsteps in Greece and your beloved Aegean Sea.