Kuliah Lapangan
Saya diajakin boss..maksudnya pembimbing saya Prof. Staudinger mengunjungi pabrik semen di Maribor..perbatasan Slovenia...ini beberapa foto di sana.

Latihan Gamelan
Bagi temen2 yang baca blog ini, kami yang sekolah maupun yang tinggal di Graz juga sering latihan gamelan di Kunst Institut. Latihannya tiap Kamis malam...so please join with us...hehehe.

Berkunjung ke Vienna

Seperti biasa, kami bertiga (Haryo dan keluarga ZA) 'dolan' ke Wien, menonton film Garin dan mengunjungi beberapa teman kami di sana pada hari Jumat-Sabtu, 17-18 November 2006. Terima kasih pada temen2 di Wien..keluarga mas Aca, mas Khabib, mbak Yulianti (walau ketemu via sms) serta bujangan baru mas Efrian atas keramahtamahan dan kebaikan selama kami di sana. Apalagi ada masakan yang bisa 'zu mitnehmen, bitte..' Tchuss..

Lost Boy
by Paul Hetherington

At soft pre-dawn, through the pin-drop silence,
his trousers dark with dew, he heaved himself
over a rail, set out across the paddocks.
The sun was still a guessing-place of light
against the luminescent, ragged hills
on a pale horizon. He knew the path.

Too much argument between his parents
and silent tension like a mesh of wire
had gripped his throat and tightened all his being--
he felt awkward and always unprepared
even though what happened and what hurt
was that same provoking, needless thing.

Now steeper paddocks, the man's-fist-sized thistles,
the lake that was a mirror of pink light
and speckled wild ducks, and wild rose.
He moved with purpose, distancing a life--
the dust motes in his room, the dull, squat hens
that fluffed and clucked at any offered food

and were never different, the brown sideboard
with a decanter of unpleasant sherry.
And clipped rose bushes, the coughing growl
of the ute at morning, warm-flanked cows.
These things he walked away from, with resolve
into the swallowing blue hills of morning.