yoodi's posts with tag: cafe
 + So what's new ? - My crush....on and off, on and off, on and off + So is it on or off now? - It's off right now.....damn that guy + Brutal..... - Apanya ? +The jungle of the single world - Hahahahaha + Ngga se simple film Tarzan jaman dulu - Gimana tuh? + Me Tarzan, you Jane....let's do bang-bang in my tree house - Hahahahahahaha...... ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- + Liat deh, you'll like it - Terlalu drama gitu lho + Ngga lah, aku kan tau selera kamu - Ok, I'll take a look at it + Meskipun plot nya romantisme biasa tapi setting nya keren abaz - Like what ? + Hong Kong in the 60's and lots of rainy days - Rain ?.....hmnnnnn. Menarik juga + Cerita nya keluar lebih dari setting dan angle-angle shot daripada dari dialog...really cool - Metaphors ? + Ya gitu deh. There's this one scene where the guy is talking to a tree - As long as there is rain it's ok by me. Wet street too ? + Yup. You know I love it too - What ? . I love rain - Rain, where are you?. He loves you..... + Biarin aja, ga usah dipanggil. Kalo lagi di kangenin emang suka jaga jarak
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+ Dasar kambing...
- Hehehe kambing....dulu katanya bebek-bebek primadona ?
+ Udah pada ngerasa paling pinter gitu lho...
- "Out of the box thinking", they think.
+ Kampret lah, cuman bisa ngekor doang...apanya yang out of the box?
- Para katak dalam tempurung
+ Hehe...katak tak berotak
- Yoehh jeki, gimana mikir di luar kotak kalo otak aja ngga ada ?
+ Fuck them lah. It's all about "No box" thinking anyway now
- Siap !. Be fearless and just throw the damn fucking box away
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+ Want me to lend it to you or you want to buy it yourself?
- I'll borrow it from you
+ No problem....but when are we going to meet again?
- Anytime. I'm not busy and as long as you don't have to go off to remote places
again for that damn shooting.
+ It's really good you know
- Yeah I know, I read the review before
+ I mean you can feel the vibes of the city even if you've never been there
- You know why I never really bother to see it before?
+ Why ?
- Too close for comfort. The damn story is too much like my life
- Hahahahaha...
+ But I guess it's time to face reality isn't it?
- What, you're facing your reality by deciding to watch this movie ?
+ Yeah...no that sounds stupid isn't ?
- People usually watch movies to momentarily escape from their dreaded reality
+ Yes, and I watch it to face my reality ? How do you figure that ?
- Well, to quote what the girl say in "Bewitched"... ".....there is no solution, we're in Coffee Bean" ....hahahaha.
+ That's funny. I haven't seen that one either. By the way, why aren't we in Coffee Bean now?
- You're the one who wanted to meet here
+ That damn place is too mainstream anyway. It's kindda nice here though.......you could watch the rain outside
- Yeah, but the shades in the windows makes me a bit claustrophobic though
+ Just focus on me, gurl....
- Hahahahaha.....
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Inspired from the movie Coffee and Cigarettes. A film by Jim Jarmusch starring Roberto Benigni, Iggy Pop, Tom Waits, Cate Blanchet, Bill Murray, Steve Wright, Steve Coogan and many others. 
 That was what it says in white chalk on the menu board standing on the pavement in front of this café announcing the special package for the day. I felt raindrops fell heavier on my head and was deciding whether to go inside escaping the rain or just continued walking. I peeked inside and saw empty white linen clothed tables decorated with a white lily in a small crystal like vase on top of every table.
I decided to sit on the veranda section of the café protected from the rain by a white colored canopy and chose the farthest side of the table from the sidewalk to avoid the rain. Not really in a hurry to be served I looked across the street watching wet grass on a small park turned shinier from the rain. Overlooking the park my eyes caught a window display of an interior design gallery. It showed a white themed bedroom décor of a massive light colored teakwood bed softened by sheets, down pillows and comforter all in white. My wandering mind then was so quick to build an imaginary setting of its own. One was an illustration of a tropical setting with ocean breeze flowing through an opened window blowing at a white see – through curtain. Inside is a teak paneled floor bedroom in some hidden villa in Canggu, Bali surrounded by rice fields and a view of a small river. Contrary to the tropical setting, other images that popped up from that “all white” window display were clips from TV commercials for either an air condition product or sanitary napkins for women. I couldn’t really help it of coming up with these latter pictures since it was an occupational hazard from working in an ad agency. Commercial for these type of products tend to highlight the whiteness of things to portray freshness and cleanness. Strange that since I walked past this café I felt attacked by this color starting with the white chalked menu list, tablecloth, white lily, canopy and that bedroom décor display. Anyhow, I prefer the tropical picture over the TV commercial ones as it gave me a quick get away window from the damp wet autumn day as it was that day.
The green tropical picturesque was shattered when the waitress came over to take my order. She was wearing an oversize white shirt (again that color) but wrapped thankfully in a black apron with front pockets filled with order book and a pen. I asked for a double espresso to speed up my caffeine intake for the day and asked her to come back later while I browsed the menu. My espresso came and I asked if she could give me a small cut of lime skin to put on my coffee. She came back with two small pieces on a white small plate. I learned this from an old Italian man years ago on how to make an espresso richer in flavor.
I studied the menu and saw lemon cheesecake again which was slightly more expensive than the plain cheesecake, obviously. I was always one that went for the old fashioned way when it came to food and drinks so I started to automatically think of ordering the plain one. The way I run my life was complicated enough and I could use a few basic simple way of living like a plain bagel instead of a cinnamon taste one or a cold beer instead of those colorful designer cocktails.
However, sitting there and staring again at the clean white tablecloth I felt I was entering a comfort zone that was long ago forgotten. So all of a sudden this out of the ordinary thought came over me and I told the waitress to bring me the lemon cheesecake. While waiting for my order I took out my shag tobacco and rolling paper . My finger started to do the art of rolling the thin white paper and making it into a thin cigarrete.
Watching my cigarette burned by a Zippo I started to think is it curiosity for the blended taste of cheese and lemon or is it simply boredom for the ordinary? The “great white attack” somehow already gave me a hugging – like feeling of coziness and now the thought of lemon taste over a traditional delicatessen like cheese charmed my curiosity.
The waitress came back with my cheesecake. I looked at it and it was prettier to look at than the ordinary one with gradient of yellowish color on the white cheese surface. The twist of lemon taste on my tongue felt like a fresh witty surprise over the usual stand alone cheese taste. As I took more bites I felt the fresh sweet taste was arousing some long forgotten senses inside. Savoring the lemon cheese taste, sniffing the aroma of strong espresso mixed with a scent of lime while enjoying the whiteness around me was like slouching in a giant comfortable sofa, it felt like home.
As I sat there absorbing all these, the rain has stopped. It was home but in a different world. It was like going scuba diving in that tropical place, seeing the beauty of the colorful marine lives and an underwater flower garden made of coral reefs. The world separated by open water and an oxygen tank, the deeper you go the more beautiful it was. It was a dangerous playground unless you are an expert diver in the hand of an experience dive master.
I tossed a few bills to pay for everything and left the café. Walking across the small park I kicked some reddish autumn leaves lying on the green carpet of wet grass. Some raindrops still rested on the leaves like teardrops hanging on a pair of sad eyes. Kicking the leaves made the water splashed on my shoes and I carried those teardrops with me as I walked away. Sitting on a wet iron park bench l looked back at the café. I thought about the options, weighing possibilities of living between two worlds. I knew my next stop would be home, the one in my world.
I would miss my lemon cheesecake even when the taste continued to linger on my taste bud. I even knew that I would miss it still as I bite into it the next time. This was like a secret love affair between two characters on two different story frames of the same comic page. Sharing the same space but separated by two different stories. Unification could only be decided by the almighty illustrator.
I then realized that I too wore a white shirt over a pair of washed out jeans that day. Another long forgotten habit of my preferred attire for a simple look which strangely I put on again that rainy autumn day. I continued my walk home and wondering whether my closet would have enough space to hang my white shirts and a diving wetsuit.
Historically city gardens and parks have always been places of urban public spaces. They have been significant in the life of many cities as spaces of social movements. Not to mention in some Western countries these places have a significant socio-political history in the formation of democracy as these open spaces sometimes become the backdrop of public debates on contesting or opposing policies.
In the everyday urban life parks and gardens act as a media for the movement of people and communication of individuals or groups. It is also both a public and private domain where people can perform social interaction in groups or individuals preferring to read a book on a park bench and claiming it as their own private space. The networking of people and communications are local limited to the boundaries and spaces within the groups and the speed of the traveling sounds. Interactions require a physical connection like the whispering of a couple of lover by the garden fountain, the triumph yell of a man to his dog who caught a flying Frisbee or the conversation of two babies on a stroller while their mothers are gossiping about the latest sale on the local market.
Outdoor cafes in the nearby sidewalks are also places of public spaces for interaction and the movement of people. Sitting on the wicker chairs a groups or individuals can form a local networking may that be of two old men playing chess or a leisurely lone brunch and "people watching" over a cup of coffee with toasted rye bread and jam on an orchid decorated white linen table cloth.
Today with the development of wireless technology that permits the transfer of digital data without physical connection like Mobile Phone and Wi-Fi has changed the cultural way of connecting people in a different way. Communications no longer only about the movement of people but also include the movement of data like images, voice, text and sounds.
Public areas in cities now have what they called "hotspots" where people with laptop, PDA and mobile phones with Wi-Fi facility can get internet connection. Communications are now beyond local domain but crossing the global domain. The boundaries of spaces are extended to every spot on the earth and blurring the private and public everyday activities. Home entertainments are now in the form of Walkman and Ipod, fixed line phone as cell phone and desktop computer as PDA or laptop.
I wonder how this new media and its existence in the open public spaces is changing the structure of emotions, feelings, beliefs and perceptions concerning the act of communication and the creation of social links between people. You can see now two people sitting together in a cafe not conversing with each other but instead they are pre-occupied with exchanging text messages or emails with other people through the latest Communicator or PDA Smart Phone. The old men playing chess are now two teenagers playing game via a Bluetooth connection on their cell phone while across the next table a board room presentation has moved its physical presence here with the help of a laptop.
The digital culture alters how social links are established between people. It's funny to watch two young adults of opposite sex sitting close to each other and checking their Friendster account in an internet cafe to find out if they have new friends added to the list when they can actually try to converse with each other and be friends in the real everyday life. In the mean time the privacy of someone reading a book on a park bench can be enhance with music from the use of data portability in an Ipod.
These movement of data also somehow increase people's confidence who would before feel uneasy to sit alone in a cae but who now can spend significant time with their laptop converting one of the Starbucks or Coffee Bean's corner as a working space. These portable digital equipments can also sometime used as an acting props for people to act busy by checking messages or making calls on their cell phones.
While I say it's nice to be able to bring your work outside the office or the enhancement of a cozy private moment of reading a good book while listening to some Bossas on an Ipod this new media for movement of data is altering the everyday practice for social communication that somehow makes people lose sight of their surroundings while trying to keep up with the movement of images, text, and voice.
Another thing that becomes more obsolete a friend of mine mentioned not long ago is that we no longer use hand writing to communicate our thoughts and feelings.
Inspired by an article "From Cafe to Park Bench: Wi-Fi and Technological Overflows in the City" by Adrian Mackenzie, Institute for Cultural Research, Lancaster University
 The blinding morning sun shot through the windshield while a radio announcer's voice filled the car's interior chattering a morning program with her on - air guest on the latest lifestyle trend on mind and spirit. It was a typical morning program rundown of traffic report and weather forecast for the day. I drove the car for the last twenty minutes in the light morning rush hour. Something about morning radio program made people tuned in the minute they got into their cars. It was as if people were afraid to miss what went on in the rest of the world since they went to sleep the night before. Actually all you heard about is the usual heavy traffic everywhere and the same weather report as the day before due to the limited option of a two season country which was either hot or humid or rain with occasional report on sporadic flood.
It was late November and it has been raining almost daily. Surprisingly the sun was out that morning creating a shiny face on the still wet road from last night's rain. Funny how traffic seemed slower on wet road as if illustrating people walking on a slippery surface. My fingers kept pushing on the memory buttons switching stations without really looking for anything particular on the radio. As I entered the narrow streets of a trendy neighborhood light drizzle started to hit the windshield. The sun has taken shelter behind the now grey cloud. I stared ahead navigating the car through alley like streets with chic galleries and cafes lined up on both sides. I noticed other drivers started to have their wipers working as I stared ahead and watched droplets of water on the windshield.
My thought raced forward to what were waiting for me at work. The millions things that needed to be done on the newly acquired account and several other brand communication campaigns that needed to be strategize. Not to mention to looked after one or two still pending creative and technical executions on some new web development that needed to be presented to clients. Peculiar as it was certain trades tended to group together forming an illusion of images and envious observations to those outside the trade. Superficial as it may seem but it never failed to attract certain stereotypes. The neighborhood I was driving through was a good example. I was almost sure that whoever it was that developed the area didn't really plan it to turn out the way it was. In the last few years it has developed into a pleasant area surrounded with a bohemian flavor. Art galleries and cafes mixed together with modest small proprietor shops and residential for the upper-classes. As if it was not enough to commercialize the area, high - end retail shops soon followed accompanied by corporate of the creative trade such as ad agencies, creative boutiques, photography studios and production houses. "People watching" which was used to be the favorite past time belonging only to the residents has now became a commodity for sale especially on the week - ends. Not long after that a new campus for one of the top university relocated its schools of Architecture and Art & Design only a stone throw away putting one final touch to what every trendy neighborhood should have, a laid back but intellectual academic atmosphere.
Another two blocks and a few more turns will took me to my office. I felt lucky that driving to work no longer include enduring the stressful busy freeways and major roads some commuters had to take to get to the central business district down town. My thoughts were re-winded to the times when I was one of those commuters several years back. Being just another one in a million suit and tie corporate man trying to climb the corporate ladder. In my case being in the fast pace investment banking world with cuff links and suspender dress code. I supposed I should feel grateful then that I was miles away from the busy freeways and the suit and tie and for being in the trade that had a free spirit ed atmosphere. It was almost three years since I have made partner in a small marketing communication agency. Being one of the first to go into digital marketing has given the agency the edge it needed when corporations finally considering shifting into new media for their communication. Baiting for the big fish clients in the last few years has finally paid off and has given the agency a nice chunk of retainer fees.
My searched for the unknown finally stopped when Carly Simon's "Itsy Bitsy Spider" came over the car speakers. In another ten minutes or so I would arrived in my destination. It could have been the desire to prolong the journey that all of a sudden have made me decide to walked the rest of the distance and started eyeing for empty parking spaces on the street. Being in the retail block with business that mostly opened at ten o'clock I easily found a few empty spaces to park my car. I parked the car in front of a florist that sells imported flowers. While getting out of the car I caught a glimpse of the shop girl carrying imported tulips from Holland and putting them on a display bucket. That reminded me that I should send some flowers to one of my staff who has just given birth the day before. I quickly went inside and ordered some sunflowers to be delivered to the hospital. Pushing the glass door on my way out of the florist I realized that the rain has stopped. Carrying my worn out leather back pack over my shoulder I started walking.
As I walked my mind started to wander again to those years of soul searching or should I said searching for something that was right for my soul. The struggled between choosing a conventional path and the attraction for unconventionalities were like the pain of my existence that I had to go through while growing up. I was still not sure whether it was just naive ignorance or simply the lack of confidence to go against conventionality that had led me later on to conform to the larger sense of belonging. Surely I thought it was not because of insecurity as I have always found certain comfort with my own insecurities. Somehow recognizing my own fears has helped me to stay focus to my true being. It was like a secret intimacy that existed deep within me and was my creation of the art of happiness and my covert sanctuary whenever I was in doubt with my surrounding. A large Ukiyo-e portraying Kiyonaga's art print of Girl Under a Willow on the wall of a fusion Sushi place distracted my thought. This briefly took me away from what the Buddhist called the "sorrowful world" to its ironic wordplay, "the floating world of a 17th centuries Japan - Edo period with its complicated philosophies and sense of Samurai chivalry1. I smiled and thought of my own complexity as comparison. Still staring at the glass covered poster I saw the reflection of me, a man in faded grey corduroy Levi's wearing a wind breaker over a t - shirt and a Timberland shoes. A far cry indeed from the drawing of a man in dark colored chalked Armani suit and cuff linked white shirt with silk tie. I never did find the passion for suspenders but I did eventually get tiresome of cufflinks and everything else that came with it. It was never me and neither the teakwood paneled cigar smoked board room nor the fluctuations of the market index had ever given me any significant gratification. The agony of waking up one day and finding me doing something for the sake of doing it and for self security turned out to be more frightening than the thought of losing that security. Suddenly, the art of happiness is merely now just a fiction of my imagination. Light drizzle has started again and pulling the hood of the wind breaker over my head I continued my steps on the wet cobble stone pavement in the direction toward my building.
While abstraction had no real cost, reality did bite. Stepping out of a comfort zone turned out to be more than just carrying the burden of economic consequences but also the requirement to establish a new self - identity which closely resembled the nightmare of an introvert teenager at lost in the jungle of a new high - school. That same lost feeling was a real challenge especially in the planet of creative communication filled with over blown egos that were not only could create legendary campaigns but frequently also disastrous creative landmines. The supposedly combination of art and science between business strategy and creative solution could and often easily mistaken to be the processed to create an award winning fine art project instead. It was a lethal occupational hazard as well as a chaotic war zone. Egos were easily bruised or took a nose dive imitating a kamikaze pilot plunging his plane over the Pacific Ocean into an allied aircraft carrier during World War II. I sometimes marveled how all these could create envious observations to those outside the circle.
I stopped at a zebra cross waiting for the green light and looked at the corner store watching a visual merchandiser worked on a shoe display for Manolo Blahnik new arrivals. He artistically placed a pair of red patent leather sandal against a black steel stand highlighting the gold metal trim and heel of the sandal. The positioning was in such a way that the passionate red vintage style sandal with its beautiful curve reminded me of a sensual Flamenco dancer. The light switched to green and as I crossed the street I thought about how an insightful positioning combined with memorable visuals could really did the job. Those shoes displays certainly have attracted countless loyal long legged beauties to walked into the store and spent money on shoes that at least equal to two months salary of a blue collar worker. Nevertheless, I could have imagined that there were criticisms from those who effortlessly dismissed this to be just another trivial vanity or worse, a shallow urban chic nonsense.
Approaching my office I realized that the pyramidal needs which set priorities and petty importance sometime worked against each other which made people see things from different frame of mind. A product of a free spirited surroundings often combined with playful childlike thought might seemed mediocre to the eye of a practical rigid mind who puts value on properness. Prestigious achievements between the two poles then could only be understood by how the stars worked the different horoscopes belonging to these souls.
Pushing the door to my building I winked at my receptionist with the pale faced Gothic make up as she mumbled a soft husky good morning to me. I stopped by the pantry to make my second cup of coffee for the day. On the walked up to the duplex section of the office I was greeted with sounds of Jimmy Durante's "As Time Goes By" competing with Radio Head's "Hail to the Thief" coming from MP3s blasted from G5 Mac computers. I smiled at this assemble of the old and new working together creating strange but harmonious unity. Sipping my coffee at my desk I looked through my glass walled room and watched others did their morning routine. As I turned to the window I watched the rain and saw how the window glass stopped the rain from crashing in and created tiny rivers flowing from gravity.
I liked what I did there and I loved the playful and free spirited environment represented that morning by Durante and Radio Head. Strange as it was that probably to another observer but for me it was a representation of "properness" and "free spirit" working together to formed a character that fitted me perfectly. Whether or not it portrayed the same thing on the rest of society's mainstream was entirely a different story as I often considered myself to be a rather strange character. I did realize that having lived and digested the past days of my life, taking and learning what they had to offer has taken me that duplex on that rainy November morning. It might or might not have been the right place for my soul. The prestigious trade award hanged on the wall may satisfy the soul for the moment but can easily became petty importance the next day. But I knew then that whatever the searched was, the art of happiness was about acceptance and understanding. They were no longer about fictions running around wild but were about learning to understand what I could not accept and to accept what I could not understand. To lived the day with what I knew from yesterday and prayed tomorrow will come as only faith has the control to bring me tomorrow. There is no rain today as it is now in the middle of July and the sun has set for the day bringing a cooler breeze to what has been a hot and humid day. I am looking out through my window at the street where it is already well lit from the colonial style light poles. From my window I see an owner of a brand new green Volkswagen is getting out of her car parked in that exact space where I parked my car that rainy November morning. Passing my window she goes straight to the newly opened yoghurt and bakery store next door. I turn around and walk back to my desk to get ready to close the shop for the day. I ask one of my staff to call me a cab that will take me to the airport straight from the shop. I am leaving for Italy tonight before continuing to Malta for some new carnations and chrysanthemums adding new inventories for my florist. - Ukiyo-e (pronounced oo-kee-oh-ay) was a style of popular art in Japan during the Edo period, inexpensive and usually depicting scenes from everyday life.
Ukiyo translates as "floating world" - an ironic wordplay on the Buddhist name for the earthly plane, "the sorrowful world". Ukiyo was the name given to the lifestyle in Japan's urban centers - the fashions, the high life, and the pleasures of the flesh. Ukiyo-e is the art documenting this era. - Source artcyclopedia.com
Rainy afternoon, Starbuck Cafe. Sitting outdoor, full ashtray, half empty cup of espresso and can't remember what she's having. All this for the sake of the lack of park benches in the whole freaking city which in turn led to this stupid deep conversation about surrendering to consumerism and get trap in the segmented niche of black and white society for the simple pleasure of just hanging out to have stupid fun.
"living between two lines" she said, I can't really understand what that actually means. Is it because of the lack of private space provided by park benches where you could just sit alone for hours with your thoughts or long walks on the wide clean sidewalk for hours till you return to the same exact spot you started hours ago?. Whatever it is, for sure our beloved city of Jakarta doesn't have either one, park benches or clean nice sidewalk.
Come to think of it, its real pathetic to giving in to consumerism and having to go to a freaking public place where you're either black or white which in most cases means sometimes having to endure "the narcissism and self-conscious 100 percent genuine plastic" behavior just for a smoke and a quiet sit in the bench. What happens to the grey area where you're either black or white and just want to be you without the noise and sight pollution of the discount and new arrivals signs everywhere you go?.
I wonder when can she finds her park bench where she can look within from the outside and just observe ? I don't know the answer to that. In the mean time over at the next few table from ours there is a woman in red open turtle neck sweater sitting by herself and she seems to be using the Starbuck chair as her own private park bench and oblivion to her surrounding.
 I was standing there in a moment of indecisiveness on the side street of Kuta on a hot sticky afternoon with none whatsoever appealing options of where to go when this girl blurted out something about going to a used book store she accidentally saw the day before, somewhere in one of the nearby streets.
Breaking apart from the mainstream crowd we started walking a long stretch block on the narrow sidewalk amongst the cluttered traffic of motorbikes and cars not really sure if it was the right street. Still, I prefer getting lost rather than tolerating anymore lame jokes and self righteous remarks from the wannabes big shots vacationers.
My usual wandering mind started to play its funny tricks again as we walked the street. Somehow the weather forecast started to change drastically inside my head as the humid tropical heat started to evaporate and replace by the cool light autumn breeze escorted with a soft voice of Suzanne Vega's poetic folky song playing in the background. What triggered all that was probably my usual erratic banging in the head that connects useless series of separate events into one big scenario. Maybe it was from the search for this used book store and the fact that I have once lent her one of Haruki Murakami's book while we were listening to one of Vega's literate poem like lyrics. As for the autumn breeze, well I guessed it goes well with the music which by the way transcended from another episode of another long walk and staying up late in some Mediterranean spot.
The blast of car horn brought me back to reality and I heard her soft happy cried pointing to the book store across the street on our right side. The noise of the steel chimes broke out as we opened the door alerting the middle aged proprietor of his out of towner customers. We started to make small conversations about his book collections as she browsed around the store that only has one ceiling fan working desperately to fight the heat. Although not really in the mood of buying anything as I almost ran out of cash I noticed the store has quite a collection of old and new books. Sitting there in the heat I heard she mumbled some apology about having to make me wait while she went over some list of books that she was searching. I smiled within realizing how little did she knew that being in that book store she has taken me to my first and probably only comfort zone during this trip. Finding some of the book she was looking and paying for them we exchange greetings with the friendly owner and walked out the door.
Walking towards the directions of the rendezvous point with the rest of the group we realized that we still have some time to kill. Needing some cold drinks to ease the heat we stop at one of the sidewalk cafe and sit on the bar. Sitting there sipping my cold beer and talking to her I knew then that her search for an old used book store on some unknown street has salvaged me from closely having an unmemorable trip even if it was to happen on the last day.
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