Sabtu, 19 Mei 2012


Waking up from her tempestuous nightmare that comes every night in her sleep makes her seem castaway in the dark world. The pieces of her nightmares dance in her eyes. She could feel the dark shadow with blood blotches just like the dark sky in the winter season filled by bloody wounds. Stefani got chilled. She froze in her night sleep as she never wears any clothes when she sleeps. She only covers her naked body with a woolly-warm blanket. Her warm blanket, that night, suddenly fell to the floor, and made her suddenly awakened from her sleep by the dark-nightmare dream that filled her night sleep and her senses. The sounds of fighting swords, shoes steps on the aisle, demon laughs and beheaded head rolled on the floor still remained her mind. Stefani sat and hold her feets, grabbeld her blanket to her chin, and tried to keep her body warm. She looked at her dark room ceiling; then she massaged herself her nape. ”My sleep has finished,” she said to herself weakly. She raised her back and got off from her bed. She took out a cigarette from its box from her meja rias table. ”Hope this cigarette may calm my mind from that damn dream!” she cursed her nightmare dream by burning the tip of the cigarette. Stefani put her head against the edge of the wall and she contemplated in the darkness of the dawn. She kept sucking her cigarettes and blew the smoke to the windows. The smoke formed thin cloud blocking her sight. From the smoke that slipped out from her sexy lips, Stefani seemed to see somebody’s last breath before the death angel took the breath away from that body. If only the death could be taken by smoking, then her grandma and her mother would have died happily and there’d be many people choosing to die instead of continuing this damn life. So does she. She remembered her grandma. When her grandma was still alive, she was ever told from her grandma several horrific stories that could raise her goosebumps. The story was about dreams. She dreamed lots of cold-blooded demons that beheaded men’s heads. She assumed her grandma’s horrific stories were only horrific stories for her. Strangely, she always felt happy with the terror scenes of her grandma’s nightmare dreams. She never felt scared, instead she was curious by the next scenes of each of her grandma’s stories the next day. Almost all of her grandma’s stories full of screams and deaths in every bloody scene. Her grandma’s said that all here dreams were just the same and repeating. Even if there were new dreams, but there were always bloody dreams. And her grandma was always awakened by her nightmare dreams. Finally, that old and sick lady who liked telling me her nightmare dreams, tried to suicide at sixty years old. Her suicide trial by taking many sleeping pills failed and ended with nothing. Her grandma was killed in a flight accident when she was about to have her medical treatment in the Netherland. Her mother was also killed in the same accident. She was 13 years old. A year after her mom and grandmother’s deaths, Stefany keeps getting nightmare dreams up to today. The bloody dreams always raided her night sleeps. To cast out the craziness, and being afraid of following her grandma’s suicide trial-and or consuming narcotic, so she translated them into paintings. Stefani painted any of her dreams on canvas. She translated what she saw in her dreams into painting to get rid of it from her subconscious. Now, she got the answer why her grandma always told her her nightdreams, just to get rid of it. So, grandma could get rid of from mental illness. Stefani finished her last sucking before she put the cigarette into her drink that she put at the side of the window. The curved window’s glass faces to the wide balcony. She opened the window with one hand. Her skin was bitten by the cold air that blew swiftly before she had time to cover her body with her blanket. The snow that fell to the earth dancing before her windows and entered the room. ”I need fresh air even though it is so cold,” she mumbled. Stefani brushed her hair and rub her cheeks with her palm. The cold air seemed to freeze her beautiful face. She closed her windows and walked out from her room. She stood by one of her canvas that she hadn’t painted it with red, black, and other dark colors. Few minutes later, she melted into painting. Her fingers played the paintbrush agilely on the canvass. She moved her nightmare dreams to the canvass, and her feeling slowly calm. Stefani’s painting was dominated by the colors of blood red and black that made it amazing as well as raised people’s goose-bump. *** One day, she showed off one of her paintings to her best friend, Patrick. He was so amazed by her painting. The painting was about the an angel with spreading black wings flying in the blood red sky. Then, Patrick asked for seeing other paintings, so then Stephani led him to a room that is was looked like a store room. The walls were painted by Stephanie’s nightmare dreams. There was painting of a fire tounge licking men’s feet, they cried and their bloody tounges were stretched out. Near a big polished cabinet, there was a painted laid against it. Patrick was gasmped and almost screamed seeing that painting, but he could control himself. ”Well, that’s the look of a demon,” Stephani explained. A picture of a face with light-red-eyes. Its mouth bubbled and was biting a bible. Patrick who is a painting curator like thought that he finding found a hidden treasure. He stared open mouthed and his tounge touched the roof resulted the sound of tsk like a lizard having sex. Patrick was really amazed by the painting. So then, he organized a painting exhibition for Stefani’s paintings. At first she refused Patrick’s offering for the exhibition, but finally she agreed to have one. The exhibition was held in an art galery on Salihara street, in Pasar Minggu. There were many people came to see the exhibition, and some of her paintings were sold out. Out of the blue, there were many people who didn’t like Stefani’s paintings got angry and threatened to burn all the paintings if the exhibition continued. Probably, those people found out the exhibition from a media coverage. ”For God’s sake, they are the paintings of evil!” shouted those people who were wearing turban, cap, and white clothes. They pointed to the painting of a face with red eyes and foamedfrom their mouth produced foam and it mouth bitesing a bible. But, those peopleTheir face looked more wicked and devilish than the paintings itself. ”Kill the artist!” shouted the rests. Stefani smiled cynically before she finally decided to walk out from the galery crying and filled by hatred.

Rabu, 02 Mei 2012

Penulis, Penyair dan Seniman HERU EMKA Meninggal Dunia

Pada hari Kamis, 3 Mei 2012, melalui twitter Ana Mustamin saya mendapat kabar Mas Heru Emka meninggal dunia. Inna Lillahi Wainna ilahi rojiun, semoga almarhum mendapat tempat yang layak di sisi Allah SWT. Amin. Berikut ini, tentang Heru Emka, yang ia tulis sendiri di Blog Kajian Budaya Heru Emka. Saya (Heru Emka) mungkin terlahir sebagai orang yang menyukai banyak hal. Selain membaca, saya senang menulis, mendengar musik, melihat gambar-gambar / visual yang indah, termasuk foto dan lukisan. Jadi saya punya hobi koleksi yang cukup beragam. Di samping menyimpan banyak buku (kutu buku berat), juga menyimpan banyak komik (dari komik impor hingga komik jadul), menyimpan musik (dalam format kaset, CD dan MP3 - hampir semua genre musik), mengkoleksi film (ada sekitar 3000-an judul, dalam format VCD dan DVD). Saya pernah bekerja sebagai penyiar radio, wartawan, copy writter, tim kreatif di sebuah production house (yang memproduksi TV Talk Show Jaya Suprana Show, yang disiarkan di stasiun TPI selama 130-an episode. Saya juga menulis banyak buku. Dari yang serius, seperti buku kumpulan puisi, buku tentang musik (Berjudul Grindcore dan Thrash Metal sebagai Musik Alternatif - buku tentang musik keras yang pertama terbit di Indonesia - Medayu Press) juga buku cerita anak, serta berbagai buku psikopop remaja, dan buku humor untuk just for fun saja. Selamat jalan Mas Heru Emka. Mas pernah menelepon saya untuk ketemuan di TIM, sayang sekali saya berhalangan. Aku akan selalu mengenangmu dan karya-karyamu. Jakarta, 3 Mei 2012