mostly earnest

Category: blog

  • Post-Episode Notes #2

    The second episode is live and with a significant improvement in sound quality. I didn’t want to commit until I was sure we were serious about the project. But after listening to the draft cut of the pilot episode and noticing how much sound quality affects the listening experience, I had to get a proper mic.

    As a rule, I don’t buy any tech or gear without first doing extensive research. And I find YouTube to be quite helpful in providing a precursory understanding of gear I have no prior experience with.

    Of the many channels I scoured through, I found this guy who delivers comprehensive and in-depth mic reviews, recommendations, and tests for a wide variety of mics specifically to improve youtube and podcast audio or video quality.

    With his help, I decided on the Audio-Technica ATR2100x-USB. The retail price is a little higher than what my budget would allow but I managed to find a secondhand one from Amazon.

    Right out the box, the mic looks expensive. The metallic grilled mesh and the sleek handle looked like what someone who knows what they are doing might use. I appreciate the desktop stand it comes with while I wait to upgrade to a better, more professional rig. It’s easy to use, no special configuration or installation needed, just plug and play. It also comes with both USB and XLR output in the off chance I go pro one day who knows.

    Now the downside of this mic – and I knew what I was going to have to give up in exchange for better sound quality and accessories – is that there is no way to control the volume of the monitor coming from the mic. It is something I can live without although I do generally prefer being able to hear what I sound like through the mic. The current setup is way too loud and unchangeable.

    I also found that using noise-cancelling headphones while recording isn’t helpful because then I would have trouble hearing myself speak and that distracts my train of thought. The only way around it right now is to use the wired Apple earphones so I can both hear myself and my collaborator as clearly as possible.

    The other slightly annoying thing is where the mute button is located. It really is just an on/off switch slide on the handle of the mic. Having this is convenient for conference calls except the noise from sliding the button almost definitely gets picked up while recording. It wouldn’t matter for general use but any minor interference is surely noticeable in post.

    These misgivings are nonetheless negligible when compared with the price for the quality. All in all, I am largely satisfied with my first mic purchase.

  • Signature Dish

    I learned how to make the Spanish Tortilla during the lockdown in 2020 and I continued to make them on a regular basis. I’ve cooked it so much, it has become my signature dish.

    It’s comfort food, a staple in Spanish households. It’s a great recipe to have in my back pocket for when I need to entertain or impress. And I have Juan, my friend to thank for, for first making it for me and then showing me how to do it.

    It’s not a complicated recipe but it is time consuming. The ingredients are simple – eggs, potatoes, onions and a fuck ton of olive oil. One of the steps requires you to flip the tortilla from the pan onto a plate. This still makes me nervous but I almost never fail if I take a breath before and do it in one swift motion. No hesitation.

    I tried many different recipes from the internet when I first started making them but I found that this one from Omar Allibhoy, works best for me.

  • Making Art

    I saw a film recently that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about.

    It’s called Paterson and it’s about a bus driver who shares the same name as the town he lives in and who devotes most of his time to writing poetry.

    What struck me about this film is how much value is placed in the quiet pursuit of creativity and art. It is an ode to making art for art sake even if it never sees the light of day.

    For someone who shares a lot of what I make, I think about the motivations behind the impulse to create. On one level, it is the rush of exhilaration from using my voice and wanting to be seen. But on another, it is about finding connection and seeing ourselves in others. It is about pointing at things and inviting others to wonder with you.

    Perhaps my motivation is closer to that of Kurt Vonnegut’s when he said:

    Practicing an art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow, for heaven’s sake. Sing in the shower. Dance to the radio. Tell stories. Write a poem to a friend, even a lousy poem. Do it as well as you possibly can. You will get an enormous reward. You will have created something.

    Writing, making photos, cutting hair, doing the things that I’m doing is not to show what I can do but to share what is here.

  • The Buses Of Inishowen

    I get on the bus, a McGonagle bus
I buy a return ticket
It is pink

I get on the bus, a McGonagle bus
I have the wrong ticket
It's not white

Two brothers
born of the same house
cross swords
with exact same font

In the cold
In the rain
I wait to play bus roulette

  • Happy 6 Years

    I’ve not been feeling myself since the move. It’s mostly because I am a creature of habit and without a base or somewhere I can call home, my routines are often disrupted. Every so often I will be whisked away on another search for housing and then forced to reacclimatise in new environments. The problem is that we can’t afford to stay for very long so by the time I adjust to our new setup, it’s time to go.

    But even in times like these, when I can’t find it in me to do very much, I am glad for birthdays, holidays, and anniversaries. Marking dates pull me back to the present. There’s a sense of forward momentum which carries with it a promise that in time everything will sort itself out.

    Today, we celebrate our 6th year together. While the process of being in Ireland hasn’t been entirely smooth sailing, I do not regret my decision for coming here. Anywhere that we might have a chance at building a life and spending it together without looking over our shoulders is where I want to be.

    Today, I am grateful for this chance. I do not take our freedoms lightly and although I am still finding myself, and trying to make it work for me (so I can make it work for us), I wouldn’t have it any other way.

    Love is worth the ordeal in broken systems.
    Love is worth the distress of crossing borders.
    Love is worth the work of reacclimatising over and over and over.

    Love is worth all of it because she is worth all of it.

  • Waterford

    Our search for housing has unexpectedly led us to Waterford.

    For a fishing village, they’re more known for their blaa (looks like dry bread roll) than for their fish. Come to think of it, they’re not known for their fish at all.

    Waterford city reminds me of Ipoh. The way they never really evolved in design and style past the 90s but then there are also the newer, trendier shops selling vintage clothing, hipster coffee, and trinkets made by local independent brands peppered around the city.

    We got the bus from Dublin and were dropped right at the doorstep of the hotel we were staying at. Making this journey has required the least amount of effort since moving to Ireland and becoming carless people.

    There’s a pub called Tully’s around the corner from our hotel that Nine identified as probably the one to go and where our people would most likely be. We got a table next to a painting made recently by a Ukrainian couple to show their appreciation for Waterford’s hospitality after escaping the war. We also spotted a St. Pauli FC sticker at the bar and felt reassured of our choice.

    Like most small towns in Ireland, there’s little to do. I explored the entire city centre in less than a day. There’s an unusual amount of phone shops in Waterford, selling poorly designed phone cases and made-in-china electronics. I bought what I thought was a genuine Apple magsafe battery pack which of course turned out to be anything but. The prices should’ve been a dead giveaway but because I hadn’t fully grasped the meaning of things in Euros, it didn’t instantly click.

    It’s fine, the batt pack still works.

    Our best find was probably the tuna sandwich I had at an Italian bakery called Berkana.

    Sandwich shops in Ireland are the equivalent of our mamak, there’s no shortage of them. But for a country that mostly subsists on sandwiches, Ireland sure does make some terribly mediocre ones. I’ve not had a single good experience that I was half-expecting to be served the same uninspiring bleached white bread in this place too. It was all I could do not to exclaim in rapture when I took my first bite. Fresh, tasty ingredients and olives in my sandwich. OLIVES.

    Sorry no pictures, I inhaled it in a flash.

  • Deserted

    Abandoned house on the way up to Scalp Mt.

  • One For One

    Over a month since I left Malaysia to live in Ireland and still no luck on the housing front.

    Since the time we arrived, we’ve had a grand total of zero viewings. It’s shocking how quickly houses get snatched up as soon as it’s up for let. Nothing ever stays for more than a week on the market.

    Dublin was a lost cause from the get go. For the same price of a room, we could live in a 3 bedroom 2 bathroom semi-detached house anywhere else in Ireland. The drawback of that is a lack of public transport. If you’re lucky, there’s a petrol station that doubles as a diner, post office, and a mini mart within walking distance. If not, you’re left with buses that come by once every two hours to take you to the next town.

    We’re lucky to have friends, who left just a couple of years before and were willing to house us until we found our own.

    They sheltered us, gave us rooms to work in, drawers to fill but most crucially a proof of address. We couldn’t have sort most of our administrative tasks if it weren’t for their generosity.

    //

    In theory, it should be a straight-forward process for me to remain in Ireland with all my papers in order. But KL has conditioned me to never trust the system and to always anticipate fuckery when dealing with pencil-pushers and box-tickers.

    I walked into the Garda station with a thick file of documents ready for any requests they might throw at me. But before the interview even began, Michael, the police officer greeted me with a cheery “Welcome to Ireland!” and I suddenly realised that Malaysia is not normal.

    He gave me 3 years (the maximum for an Irish Residence Permit) and after two weeks I received the physical ID in the mail.

    But even with open arms, Ireland isn’t perfect. The crumbling state of their healthcare system post-Brexit and Covid-19 has made it difficult for me to access the medication I was used to getting back home.

    It is unthinkable, not to mention grossly negligent, that in a first world country, I would be rejected for life-saving meds just because I wasn’t diagnosed here.

    Even with all the documents and papers from back home proving that my medication was necessary, there are long approval times and waiting lists. Many hoops to jump through before I would be considered a spot in their system.

    Fortunately many people came through in my time of crisis and with the help of an auntie who didn’t mind bending the rules a little, we got a hold of some medication to last me a while.

    //

    Some days it feels as if I’ve traded in one trauma for another. The rising living, housing, and energy costs coupled with the inaccessible healthcare makes me wonder if there is no place for me in this world that I can breathe easy.

    Maybe the world is your oyster but life is a compartment plate and you have to choose which freedoms to take and which to sacrifice.

  • Sand Dunes & Sea

    I didn’t get in the water.

  • livestock.ie

    Cows are magnificent creatures but the amount of excrement they produce is astonishing.