A change of tide?

Charlene journal, vagabonding 8 Comments

​I mark 4 years of this nomad life in a few days. I’ve always celebrated this particular anniversary in the hardest place to travel: back home. January is a difficult month. This January has been different though. I marked the first day of 2017 with friends I missed, and went to fetch Flemming from the airport, after a month of him being elsewhere, all in the same day. Last night I met a wonderful group of local photographers from Her Side Of The Street, a global street photography community. In the course of photographic conversation, I started to think that I might one day figure out a way home.

On resonance

Charlene journal 6 Comments

The other day I found Red Bull’s Singapore Seven series – a set of interviews with local movers and shakers about how they got to where they are, and what it is that keeps them going. I went through all 7 of them, back to back. Rapt for once: a non-standard response to internet video, which is usually accompanied by all the things one can do in other browser tabs. Three years ago I came back here to say goodbye to my father, and stayed eight months before hitting the road again. It had been fifteen years since I’d been back for any decent amount of time, and was the point I began coming to terms with what it meant to be Singaporean. When I left Singapore for Australia in 1999, the mission was …

On bright stars in dark nights.

Charlene vagabonding 1 Comment

2013 was year where my desire to go walkabout with possessions in a bundle at the end of a stick – or a couple of bags in my case – came true. I’ve been on it for a year and a week today, but rather than some far flung locale, I’m writing this post from my childhood home. Home is something that seems to punctuate journeys though, so perhaps there is no better place.

Nightwalking – Thoughts of Home

Charlene journal 8 Comments

Home, where the heart is. Plain enough of a concept, one I’ve never grasped. “Home” to me, has always meant “the place where I’m staying,” sans the inherent warmth and glow and ties and sentiments that the word evokes. It’s simply a dwelling I come back to after the working day, shower, eat and sleep, a place where my stuff is stored.