I bought a vintage suitcase a long time ago. I bought it from a makeshift flea market that sprouted out of nowhere in Hobson’s Bay and the sky was sunny, but drizzling ever so slightly. I had no idea how I was going to bring it home when/if I eventually did return home to theisland. All I knew was that I was in love with it: it had a very nice orange leather and the thing about secondhandthings or muskydusty carriers is that there’s always a story (that can be) attached to it. I couldn’t wait to board the plane, or put on a top hat or fill it with books and otherthings. In the end, we used it for a film that N had to shoot, and threw old clothings for further effect.

The picture above was taken by T at a recent dragonboating event. C finally developed it (yes, it wasn’t digital) and Iloveit because it looks so hazy and foggy even though last saturday saw perfectly clear skies!! C bought a waterproof instant camera and everything turned out looking blur but very oldschool! : ) I think I like old things verymuch. I also like it because someone must (always) remember to wind the camera up before taking a picture. har har.

I would also like to collect old typewriters.

But that’s a different story altogether.

Now, where’s my damned suitcase?