Friday Shoot Out: Sounds in your Town

These photos were taken at a German Clock shop, at the Tamborine mountains. This is a boutique place of specialty shops and is just right for my topic. Sound of time.










My Sister Rose gave Sam when he was three, this Made-in-Switzerland cuckoo clock. It's cuckoo can be heard in the neighbourhood. Our friends kids like to come up to our house to see the cuckoo come out of it's house. They would count the times the bird cuckoo and feel very dejected if they came up too late. (We lived on the third floor)

We didn't bring it over to NZ, but took in over to Sarawak to give it to Nicole, Rose' grand daughter.





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Jan. 22 - "Sounds in your town" by NanU
"There are two versions of this theme. First, the simple one. We’ve been treated many different aspects of what your town looks like. Treat another sense: what makes your town sound like your town? Traffic? Kids playing? Birds? That annoying dog next door? Fill our senses with a different perspective.

The complicated version (and I apologise for not giving you more lead-timeon this) I have heard called a ‘blind hike’. Find a trusty partner. Wear a blindfold (no peeking!). Get your camera, and with the help of your partner, wander around noticing what you hear. Take pictures (no peeking!) while you’re at it. It’s quite fun to do, and the photos will surprise you. Enjoy!" NanU



As I am traveling, I thought I will just do the simple assignment, and make it simpliar, do just one kind of sound. The sound of time. Is there such a thing as sound of time, or man's version of time.

Tick tick tick of our watch, Tick Tock tick tock of an old fashion clock or grand father or grand mother clock.

When I was young, I used to be petrified of our old fashion clock. My parents bought one on the birth of my brother Charles. To the Chinese, a boy is very very important. The clock was an old fashion wind up one, and the timber wasn't treated. Every year, Dad would take it down, and paint it with turpentine. The waft of smell was terrible. As we crowd round this precious clock, Dad would say," This clock is as old as your brother Charles." Even when he had grown up and gone to New Zealand.

Yes later, Mum and Dad went to live in Australia, and I don't think they took the clock with them. Which is a pity as it would be an antique by now, since Charles is passed his half a century.

My own anecdote about this clock is sweet, as it was a special bonding time with Dad, even though I was terrified with the Tick Tock, and the chiming, Dong Dong. You see, I wasn't the brightest and smartest kid. In those days in my primary school, we were laden with heaps of home work, spelling and dictation in English and Chinese. I was absolutely hopeless in Chinese, ( which I still am).

When my other siblings had gone to bed at 9pm, I was still up struggling with my work, Dad would stay up to accompany me. As the night went on, the quietness of the evening made the tick tock louder and louder. I hated it. Finally when it Dong Dong ten times, Dad would say, " That's it, pack up and go to bed, I will talk to the principal.

Whew!!!

Dad was the supervisor of schools, boss the all the principals and teachers. Yet, he didn't abuse his power and he still made me do as much as I could.

Right now, I am in Australia, reminiscing with my siblings, we attribute Dad's making us write one essay a day during our holidays to what we are today, lawyers, PhDs, teachers, principals, professors, anthropologist, IT, and this extra bit, is something they will have to read in this post because I told nobody.