fake plastic words

It's a shame that I never got the chance to get to know her personally. Although I do remember adding her on flickr and we did correspond a little bit there, a long time ago. I can see now that we do have several mutual friends. What a small, small world. Coincidentally, she's also doing architecture and we also have a mutual passion, photography. What a loss, to someone so talented, so young. But of course, things like these are never a complete loss, partly thanks to the internet.

I can see now why I personally find it hard to escape the net. In Sara Aziz's story, the websites only now act as a shrine, a place where her passion and herself is now immortalized not only in virtual memory but also as a place that strangers like me are made aware of her existence. It saddens me so much that someone like her had to leave this world so early, so tragically.

Perusing through her pages I can feel that she's a person that is passionate, full of energy and above all, hopeful. Rarely do I come across a photographer's work, especially someone still fresh and new in the field, that is able to convey so much emotion into a photograph. Be it animate or inanimate. I added her on flickr because I thought she had so much potential, and I did admire her modest collection of work then, and all the more now. It's odd that I don't remember her from last year's Rantai. I only found out that she exhibited her work there after browsing through her blog just now.

I've lost a number of friends and family myself. And although I never got to know Sara on a personal level, but I do feel a loss. I do feel saddened. And I feel, in some level, the pain that her family and friends are going through. It's the most difficult thing in the world to lose someone you love. How terrible it must feel.

Sara, thank you for sharing yourself. If not because of this thing called the world wide web, I wouldn't have known you even existed. Your life and your passions will never be wasted. It is now forever immortalized, in virtual memory, and in the memory of family, friends and countless of random strangers.

Al-Fatihah.