Beautiful Enigma

Big Fish

2011-09-27T17:37:00.002+08:00

I was explaining to KL about surrealism as an art movement and as I was thinking about my options in life and that fork in the road, I remember a movie i watched from years ago. I liked Big Fish, because it was pure surrealism - it was a movie that toed that thin line between fantasy, lies, and reality. I am not entirely sure what this movie meant to me, but it reminded me of a few things:

1) I am drawn to art in a metaphysical way that’s hard to convey to someone else in words, but it’s ok because what other people see as inconsistent and illogical in art is to me the exact beauty of it. I am entirely comfortable with - or should I say prefer - (seeming) chaos, uncertainty, unexplained nuances because it gives me the chance to navigate those ideas and images with my own compass and interpretation. i like open-endedness and endless debates so movies with indefinite endings don’t bother me. (but i do have a certain threshold for nonsensical movies that pretend to be arthouse - i usually diss those with no relent)

2) You know those movies where main characters do stupid things like follow a bunny down a rabbit hole, eat something that shrinks her and then follow the same bunny around? Or the other where the character follows an iffy looking witch down a deserted path leading to nothingness and end up having the adventure of his life? Those characters who are the main protagonists of any good fantasy/sci-fi movie but might be the outcast of society, victim of crime and deception in real life. I am somehow predisposed towards choosing adventure, taking risks and making leaps of faith as the years pass. I suspect it might have to do with my strict upbringing and structured life path thusfar that gives me the confidence to take risks, knowing that I can always bounce back and get back on the safe road to mundanity. Or it could simply be a suppressed part of me bursting out to take risks and to venture into the unknown. Or it could be a function of age where risk-taking is the norm. Whatever it is, it’s hard for me to be satisfied with the safe road to security - I need a good challenge, an awesome adventure or simply room to explore uncharted domains.

3) Random thought that came with remembering the title of the movie: At this point in life, I would like to be a small fish in the sea than a big fish in a pond - because the small fish can only have enough space to grow in the sea. the pond is a little too crammed.

4) my indication of a good decision is one where i'm listening to my heart and there's an adrenaline rush to my brain after deciding. keep me away from casinos hor.

Volatility

2011-09-02T20:51:00.001+08:00

Perhaps my emotional volatility is the bane of my existence - it leads me towards bad relationships and engagements that are non-beneficial to my growth. Need my friends more than ever.. And yet less of them stay with me as time passes.

The Italian Affair

2011-08-30T21:08:00.001+08:00

It was an impromptu decision to go out for dinner and I think the white wine was the point at which it turned into a dinner date at an Italian restaurant. It's funny how easily lighting, ambience and a bottle of wine sets the stage in a certain fashion. It was a nice, warm dinner and details fuzzied by the tipsy feeling in my head. We talked, we laughed and i shed a tear or two. I am a barrel of emotions waiting to burst forth at every opportunity. There was something in his eyes that looked a little different last night, was it empathy? I've only seen that expression on one other guy whom I shared my thoughts with, the boat I waited in vain for. Yet I shook my head as a reminder to self that no, this was someone else I'm talking to. And I didn't expect myself to share about my missed boat as well. It must be the wine tat tipped the barrel.

Perhaps my threshold and love for wine has never been that consumerate. I was tipsy by the later half of dinner and requested that he had to remain sober to send me back. Not that he needed to hear that of course. I leaned on his arm on our way out to the car, all the time laughing about how scandalous it looked if we met someone we knew. He said i was going to die of embarrassment the next time we met, for he had never seen me like that - he said it was cute, whatever that meant. I just didn't want to be seen tipsy - it was to me a sign of lack of self control (ok it really was) and i hate to be seen like that. I was singing to SOMEWHERE OUT THERE in the car, one of my fav songs. We argued if it was fr Aladdin or in his words, "sung by the rat in American Tales". (and this is one evidence that i was truly tipsy - i found myself insisting on sth that is obviously wrong. I just couldn't accept, in my state of fuzziness, that a rat sang my fav song). When we reached my place, he held my hand like a gentleman would, and guided me all the way to my doorstep.

I found myself thinking about last night most of today, trying to make sense of what it meant. Probably nothing much. But it was a nice night and I don't want to spoil it by thinking of what-ifs. Something in the equation will change, and that's not what I want.

Write.Right.Rite

2011-08-30T20:26:00.001+08:00

A twitter account to amuse myself with (but it's really trashy - whoever thought of putting a 140 char limit on words clearly doesn't love words enough), a tumblr blog to store my more philosophical musings and my trusted blogspot to pour out my deepest darkest. Only old friends who still remember will bother to visit this humble abode and I feel a sense of camaraderie whenever one of you tell me, "hey, I read your blog". It matters to me, that you want to be updated about my life and participate in my rite to write, right.

the JD

2011-08-25T22:07:00.005+08:00

i had the most informal session today, with talks of travelling the world to seal agreements, living the "high intellectual and governmental life" of meeting people, going places, charming my way to make a difference for a greater good. i did well i think, granted that i didn't have much time to rehearse my lines or organize my thoughts. but a part of me remains lucid and cynical of the fulfillment that a younger me might have envisaged. this opportunity in the horizon was after all, still a part of the mammoth system that sustains the city-state, with strings attached and glass ceilings thick as walls. the JD always sounds awesome, challenging and sexy - but reality is closer to the pendulum oscillating between boredom and hectic activity, with the sword of Damocles hanging over one's head, ready to set some heads rolling at the whim and fancy of some big shot in the system.

I dislike the system - how it has always streamed people at some early point in their lives, divided into gold, silver and iron by some Noble Myth which has ceased to be noble for a long time. the glass ceiling for the silver caste (who made it there through a longer and more arduous route) was solid as stone. yet the guardians of the system like to polish that ceiling, thinking that it makes it more transparent and less of an eyesore. but no, we silvers feel it rather acutely as we try to become more upwardly mobile.

I have to concede though, that the city state is too small to escape its clutches. every other opportunity that I hear (with remote Prospects) was linked to the system some way or another. I have increasingly lost patience with a regimented existence, but it costs too much to be an outcast of the system. financially, socially, emotionally. until.... i find that which motivates me beyond the fat paycheck, flexible hours and a comfortable obscure existence. I seek to find it, but the city-state might be too small to house it.

Quote

2011-01-17T07:17:00.001+08:00

Reinhold Niebuhr put it best: “Nothing that is worth doing can be achieved in our lifetime; therefore, we must be saved by hope. ... Nothing we do, however virtuous, can be accomplished alone; therefore, we are saved by love. No virtuous act is quite as virtuous from the standpoint of our friend or foe as it is from our standpoint. Therefore, we must be saved by the final form of love, which is forgiveness."

His presence

2011-01-17T07:07:00.001+08:00

In His presence, the pain in my heart wells up to the point of release. And yet, better is one day in Your courts, than a thousand elsewhere.

Only He will understand, how deep my regrets in life. And only He will grant me the pardon I need.

But honestly? I very much feel like running away.

Scent

2011-01-04T07:12:00.001+08:00

I know I've fallen in love, when I pick up your scent whenever you're around. Guess I'm more nasal than visual after all.

That's what makes me a potential sommelier I suppose ;)

Savoring it all

2011-01-01T23:32:00.001+08:00

An enchanting night at PS Cafe. The music was right, the ambience mesmerizing and the food satisfying. I chose a Sauvignon Blanc for the party and it turned out absolutely charming. I basked in the moment, being who I am and saying words that I truly meant. Narcissistic as it sounds, it feels good to be in good company, but good to know that I myself was good company as well. That is much in life to savor, and I promised myself to do just that, to savor and bask in all of it vicariously.

Small town girl

2010-12-29T07:30:00.001+08:00

Dissatisfied, to be a small town girl with small town preoccupations. I too, want to go see the world. To see the world, in its glorious splendor, overwhelming freedom and a horizon of possibilities..

Bring me!

Break.

2010-12-27T08:17:00.001+08:00

I had once prayed, that God would break me, break me down completely, that I might yield to His will for me. Perhaps He had already started a long time ago, but I was resisting, resisting silently yet persistently that I might not feel the pain and sorrow.

I too, want to take a break from myself, my own fortress and high tower. Away from myself to a place of art, beauty, contemplation.

Sweet

2010-12-22T07:49:00.001+08:00

dear rae,
paris's amazing. i've been here for the past 4 days. the museums are splendid and well stock with monets, reniors, van goghs and the likes.
the food is delicious and snow's pretty.
wish you were here.

Thanks for remembering. So sweet of you :)

Musky back office

2010-12-20T14:24:00.001+08:00

Musky back office with deathly silence and cardboards strewn all over. Very unlike what I had expected of an exciting new endeavor. I have a feeling this is the last they'll see of me.

Genes

2010-12-19T20:08:00.001+08:00

Genes are hard to fight, because they are God's specifications for each one of us. My long battle with my self image seems to have borne some fruit when I stepped out of my teenage era, but the proverbial bulges still bug me once in a while. And a meal is always to me, a composition of its fats, carbs, protein. Which is why I hardly ever finish up a 'bad' meal, unless my taste buds tell me its worth the calories. Each day, the duration of time that I spend on my butt is always measured against the intensity I spent in the gym, triggering periods of guilt and quiet self reprimand. Fruits are to me, a source of good fibre and antioxidants, or not. I eat them, because they're good for me. Such an uneasy way to live, but it has become a subconscious habit.

Scholarly stress

2010-12-07T07:50:00.001+08:00

On my way to language exams.. I ask why I'm subjected to such scholarly stress once again, but last night I had a dream. In my dream I was explaining to 2 university students the importance of good essay writing, reminiscent of my PS Peers Writing Center days where i explained tirelessly the need for good topic sentences strategically placed in their appropriate paragraphs. And strangely I was comforted, reminded once again my love for words and good communication. And I thank God that even in mastering a new language, I see how the language ability given me was trans-culture and trans-language somehow. Writing an essay in English or Malay was the same enchanting process for me, to make myself understood loud and clear, using the most appropriate words my vocabulary would allow me. And I find much joy and satisfaction in doing so.

I ask myself how to harness this passion. The impatience inbuilt in my gung-ho personality arises again. But perhaps, this time I shall leave it to ferment and grow. God plants and He will grow it. A season, for every activity under the sun.

quotes.

2010-11-30T23:05:00.001+08:00

God gives the very best to those who leave the choice to Him.

* * *

If some things are better left unsaid, then maybe they too are better left undone.

the gadget

2010-11-28T00:45:00.003+08:00

i got myself a Toshiba at the IT fair, and it's the epitome of beauty with intelligence. awesome buy. I think i'm obsessed with getting in touch with information and knowledge due to the lack of an exciting thought life. but i'm working on that, i promise.

i went to borders today and picked up 2 graphic introductions to Rousseau and Kierkegaard.. i was a little hesitant to lower my capacity for deep philosophical thought by compromising complex language for illustrations, but i shouldn't be ashamed. pictures are alot easier to digest when you're stuck on a crowded bus struggling to stand, breathe and trying to read a dead philosopher while heading for work. i ought to be able to cut myself some slack. btw, Rousseau (left) looks a little like my favourite political philosopher professor (who in turn regards Rousseau as his fav philosopher). i think it's the combination of a handsome intellectual aura and that slight rebellion in his eyes. that refusal to be content with mainstream society with its norms and moral ethics. but because of that, both men seem to have struggled a lot in their quest for happiness and fulfillment.

and i have found myself to struggle more now as well. i think it's the symptom of moving on from the safe bed of aspirations to the more pressing test of living one's life, for real. of making decisions from the book i will read to the job i will apply for. from choosing to believe that all my inclinations are positive for my personal development to the admission that my weaknesses define me alot more than i thought. these thoughts are making me more sober and more aware of the passing of time. time is short and i have decisions to make, a calling to fulfill. May i not miss the signs.

the path.

2010-11-25T21:47:00.003+08:00

Sometimes i deliberately avoid knowing about human suffering and injustice in tbe news and in books. Because i fear the weight it will have upon my heart, and that regret and shame of knowing that i can make a difference somehow.. And i hadn't. I have always felt all sorts of human suffering as my very own for as long as I can remember.. And weighing on my shoulders that overwhelming responsibility of making this world a more comforting place to be in. I think God has a calling for me in that aspect, and perhaps of all His children as well, that in our own ways we love, care, nourish and protect all that He cherishes.. You, me and the rest of humankind. I have that strong sense of calling to channel my energy and my talents into doing that. But I do not yet know how.. And hence that constant low level of trepidation and introspection continues precariously.

I was overwhelmed by many thoughts over the past few days. Of human government and the religion we have created to replace faith. First of all, i find myself deeply disappointed that a wanted fugitive's family was hung out to dry, partly out of necessity (to uphold the law and as a deterrence) of course, but I read b/w the lines, deliberate political rhetoric to damage control and draw attention away from the oversight on the part of the authorities. And so a family was condemned, for the purportedly greater good of national security.

And another government shells its brother nation to shore up its precarious rising leadership. In the name of national interest and self defense. This is indeed politics as we have seen through history. Men are deceitful and gullible creatures at the same time.

But surely the human spirit can be more than that? That surely we can do more than destroy each other in the quest for personal agenda and gains? I remember the times I had argued fiercely against the realists in my political science classes, their purported "practical" and "right" answers to international relations and good governance never convincing me. And i don't think i will be convinced by those arguments, ever.

And on religion. One of my language teachers is a kind pious old man who is also a religious teacher in the masjid. I love and respect him much for his tenacity and piety. In his 70-odd years, he has had to bury his teenage son, care for his daughter who developed a psychiatric illness after a sour divorce, battle his ailing body while moving onward with God as his compass. Through him, I find myself attracted to some aspect of his religion, the parts that Christianity also advances abt God as Creator, to see an imperfect man seeking to do what is pleasing to God, hanging on to God in the midst of adversity and pain.

But I also find disturbing that the basis of the Islamic faith differs from Christianity in innocuous ways that lead brothers onto vastly different paths.. And I see in my head a fork in the road, one Islam the other Christianity, one to Heaven and the other Hell.. And on each road the followers are convinced the other brother had strayed from the path and only his own shall lead to God Himself. Was Abrahim asked to sacrifice Isaac or Ismail on that hill? Or does that not matter in the end because neither brother can be utterly sure (using reason) that his path was the right one? I'm faced with my own questions about faith.

And of course, Kierkegaard. The more I read that existentialist philosopher, the more I understand why CS came to know God through his writings. More on him later, if i can crystalize my thoughts on him.

Alone

2010-11-14T20:50:00.001+08:00

Being alone, takes some getting used to. The feeling of being my own person again always comes as a liberation movement at first, with its accompanying elation and hope. Then it settles into a dull ache, when the missing part becomes starkly empty.. The harder stage to bear is yet to come, I think. When I would finally finally know for a fact that I was indeed, alone.

Free.

2010-11-14T01:27:00.001+08:00

Sat morning, the guerilla warfare within my heart was over. It was the end of our 1.5yrs or on-and-off tussle, the start of rediscovering myself. It was a quiet but dignified affair as I composed a msg, and concluded the battle. There was no response, but I had conveyed all that I had to. There were no blows left to exchange, and I think he knew.

Was I sad? I think not.. I had thought of relenting, give it a little more time for feelings to wane between us, but sth he said over the line the night before pretty much pushed me to make the decision I should have, more than a year ago. I had poured out my thoughts once again to him, explaining how I was stifled, adjusting to his ultra-practical perspective and life. I was dissatisfied and unhappy in the r/s. He proceeded to give me a lecture on how philosophical and idealistic I was as a person, as if they were dirty words. He urged me to stop thinking, and appreciate what I have now (pretty much referring to himself). He believed I was ungrateful for all he had done for me, and he thought he did a pretty good job. All these words said matter-of-factly and without a pause for self reflection. If most US Presidents are indeed ISTJs, he must be a George W. Bush equivalent. And obviously it pushed all the wrong buttons for an ENFP.

What? I was and still am indignant. No amount of care and concern he had showered upon me can make up for his stepping all over my self worth and dignity. He never thought much of my philosophical musings, my instinctive thought processes, my view of the world as a world of possibilities, my belief in the goodness of mankind. And it irks and frustrates me. No one who knew me well had ever thought I was weak because I feel a larger spectrum of emotions than most, no one had ever criticized my philosophical side as too impractical and naive. They might have suspected these were traits that i had to manage carefully, but none thought they were character flaws.

Was I blind? I think so. I was really moved when I shared this with mum and she told me that I am a princess; that this man was no prince and he obviously didn't deserve me. I didn't realise how i had began to doubt my self worth thru his eyes. How did I manage to stay on this r/s for more than a week? Perhaps that was the evidence that my emotions can get the better of me and I have the ability to self radicalize and hoodwink myself into believing I can be truly happy with this man. A lesson learnt. No MCP, ultra-practical man for me pls. I'm much better off being alone, and complete once again.

Cheers!

Day 2 - Operation ME Time

2010-11-12T13:03:00.001+08:00

I sent out my resume to apply for 2 positions last night. One, a shot at international relations, the other social policy cum events management position. Both give me good vibes, but I'm keener on the first. The exposure would do me much good, if I should make the mark. Although it's not a job to impact lives more directly, I love the idea of working in a dynamic environment, engaging organizations locally and international. The thirst for politics still remains in my parched throat. Time to do some interview prep.

Day 2 of rebellion. A persistent cough plagued me for most of last night, so I took a day off. Here I am in the library, reading and loving each minute. I love me time. Saves me another day of guerilla warfare too, although that's cheating. The Enemy is good though, he hasn't contacted me at all last night and today. I think he's playing the waiting game, hoping that time would be on his side and the guerilla warrior lets her guard down to allow guilt to propel her out of the safety of the rainforest.

No way.

Guerilla warfare rule no. 1

2010-11-11T17:31:00.001+08:00

Day 1 report (part 1):

Indifference, clear articulation of my assessment of our basic incompatibility without too much explanation or examples. I've come to realize that less is more precise - arguing on details always puts my stand at the compromising end. Just enough to state my view succinctly and honestly without the hues of emotion coloring the battle.

Like what my heart of gold friend says, remember the tactics of guerilla warfare. You're small, the enemy is big. but you're quick and agile, the enemy is huge and cumbersome. so you hide and you hide well.

The Rebellion

2010-11-11T08:55:00.001+08:00

Day 1 of rebellion against status quo.

My sis sat me down to share her thoughts abt my r/s last night. Of all that she said, the most poignant was her advice to trust my gut feeling, the feeling that The Boy was not good enough for me and I was compromising my expectations for his affection that many other eligible men can give.

My emotional side gave a zillion excuses as usual; that we were at a comfy stage like family, our proximity would make a breakup hard to bear, I have no solid reason to breakup except the iffy feeling that I'm not gg to be happy living with this man in future. My rational side, however, agreed with her assessment that I was trapped in false sense of security and emotional closeness precisely of our proximity and daily efforts to maintain that proximity whenever we're apart.

Hence births the plan to rebel against the status quo. I keep in mind that previous mutinies were met with unresolved issues that I swallowed right back, due to that girlish desire to make my first t/s the last, befitting of a fairytale ending. And his strong argumentative personality that made my declarations sound superfluous.

So this is going to be a longer battle. One of rational calculation and intentional pursuit of true happiness. Not the way I'd prefer, but when reasoning or heart-to-heart talk fails, signals and more concrete actions over a longer term will have to relay that same message.

Bonne chance.

A new day flows and ebbs

2010-11-10T20:36:00.001+08:00

A new day propelled me forward and yet to no place new or exciting, just like a hamster on its wheel. It does not fancy the wheel very much and on some days abhors it, but most days it contents itself with the familiar routine of engaging ITS wheel. Possessive nouns are misleading to some extent. Does the hamster posses the wheel or should this lament be about the wheel's hamster?

A new day however, brought with it another enticing proposition - a job opening that might allow me the space to talk to ppl about their aspirations.. And what HOME means to them. I've come to realise how much I need to DIALOGUE with ppl in my course of work. And the POSSIBILITY of travel and events management. Maybe I should give it a shot.

A new day also brought news that a dear friend has a new romance budding in a foreign land! Most heartwarming because I know she's the sweet sort of flower that blooms much in the bed of friendship and love. The sort who laughs and the world laughs with her, the intelligent sort who puts her talents for the welfare of humankind. A heart of gold, with much tears of empathy shed for the poor and downtrodden..she's one of those that has a special place in my heart.

Overall, a new day is a day wellspent, despite the wheel. Nuggets of gold in an endless field.

Born free, but is everywhere in chains

2010-11-09T09:21:00.001+08:00

I think there's something unnatural about confining masses of ppl to a chair for 8hrs, fixed timings each day. A repulsive dreadful feeling arises when I imagine the days repeating ahead of me as i stand emotionless in a public transport vehicle during the peak hr shoulder to shoulder with many more emotionless faces heading to their dreadful dungeons pretending to be cubicles. I need to be free from such invisible shackles, that Rousseau meant, when he said man is born free, but is everywhere in chains. I never had a fascination with that man as my fav political philosophy prof Putterman did, but some ideas abt freedom that the man had is most poignant.

No, I shall not work

2010-10-31T19:29:00.002+08:00

Written by Adrian Tan.

...It’s a wonderful honour and a privilege for me to speak here for ten minutes without fear of contradiction, defamation or retaliation. I say this as a Singaporean and more so as a husband.

My wife is a wonderful person and perfect in every way except one. She is the editor of a magazine. She corrects people for a living. She has honed her expert skills over a quarter of a century, mostly by practising at home during conversations between her and me.

On the other hand, I am a litigator. Essentially, I spend my day telling people how wrong they are. I make my living being disagreeable.

Nevertheless, there is perfect harmony in our matrimonial home. That is because when an editor and a litigator have an argument, the one who triumphs is always the wife.

And so I want to start by giving one piece of advice to the men: when you’ve already won her heart, you don’t need to win every argument.

Marriage is considered one milestone of life. Some of you may already be married. Some of you may never be married. Some of you will be married. Some of you will enjoy the experience so much, you will be married many, many times. Good for you.

The next big milestone in your life is today: your graduation. The end of education. You’re done learning.

You’ve probably been told the big lie that “Learning is a lifelong process” and that therefore you will continue studying and taking masters’ degrees and doctorates and professorships and so on. You know the sort of people who tell you that? Teachers. Don’t you think there is some measure of conflict of interest? They are in the business of learning, after all. Where would they be without you? They need you to be repeat customers.

The good news is that they’re wrong.

The bad news is that you don’t need further education because your entire life is over. It is gone. That may come as a shock to some of you. You’re in your teens or early twenties. People may tell you that you will live to be 70, 80, 90 years old. That is your life expectancy.

I love that term: life expectancy. We all understand the term to mean the average life span of a group of people. But I’m here to talk about a bigger idea, which is what you expect from your life.

You may be very happy to know that Singapore is currently ranked as the country with the third highest life expectancy. We are behind Andorra and Japan, and tied with San Marino. It seems quite clear why people in those countries, and ours, live so long. We share one thing in common: our football teams are all hopeless. There’s very little danger of any of our citizens having their pulses raised by watching us play in the World Cup. Spectators are more likely to be lulled into a gentle and restful nap.

Singaporeans have a life expectancy of 81.8 years. Singapore men live to an average of 79.21 years, while Singapore women live more than five years longer, probably to take into account the additional time they need to spend in the bathroom.

So here you are, in your twenties, thinking that you’ll have another 40 years to go. Four decades in which to live long and prosper.

Bad news. Read the papers. There are people dropping dead when they’re 50, 40, 30 years old. Or quite possibly just after finishing their convocation. They would be very disappointed that they didn’t meet their life expectancy.

I’m here to tell you this. Forget about your life expectancy.

After all, it’s calculated based on an average. And you never, ever want to expect being average.

Revisit those expectations. You might be looking forward to working, falling in love, marrying, raising a family. You are told that, as graduates, you should expect to find a job paying so much, where your hours are so much, where your responsibilities are so much.

That is what is expected of you. And if you live up to it, it will be an awful waste.

If you expect that, you will be limiting yourself. You will be living your life according to boundaries set by average people. I have nothing against average people. But no one should aspire to be them. And you don’t need years of education by the best minds in Singapore to prepare you to be average.

What you should prepare for is mess. Life’s a mess. You are not entitled to expect anything from it. Life is not fair. Everything does not balance out in the end. Life happens, and you have no control over it. Good and bad things happen to you day by day, hour by hour, moment by moment. Your degree is a poor armour against fate.

Don’t expect anything. Erase all life expectancies. Just live. Your life is over as of today. At this point in time, you have grown as tall as you will ever be, you are physically the fittest you will ever be in your entire life and you are probably looking the best that you will ever look. This is as good as it gets. It is all downhill from here. Or up. No one knows.

What does this mean for you? It is good that your life is over.

Since your life is over, you are free. Let me tell you the many wonderful things that you can do when you are free.

The most important is this: do not work.

Work is anything that you are compelled to do. By its very nature, it is undesirable.

Work kills. The Japanese have a term “Karoshi”, which means death from overwork. That’s the most dramatic form of how work can kill. But it can also kill you in more subtle ways. If you work, then day by day, bit by bit, your soul is chipped away, disintegrating until there’s nothing left. A rock has been ground into sand and dust.

There’s a common misconception that work is necessary. You will meet people working at miserable jobs. They tell you they are “making a living”. No, they’re not. They’re dying, frittering away their fast-extinguishing lives doing things which are, at best, meaningless and, at worst, harmful.

People will tell you that work ennobles you, that work lends you a certain dignity. Work makes you free. The slogan “Arbeit macht frei” was placed at the entrances to a number of Nazi concentration camps. Utter nonsense.

Do not waste the vast majority of your life doing something you hate so that you can spend the small remainder sliver of your life in modest comfort. You may never reach that end anyway.

Resist the temptation to get a job. Instead, play. Find something you enjoy doing. Do it. Over and over again. You will become good at it for two reasons: you like it, and you do it often. Soon, that will have value in itself.

I like arguing, and I love language. So, I became a litigator. I enjoy it and I would do it for free. If I didn’t do that, I would’ve been in some other type of work that still involved writing fiction – probably a sports journalist.

So what should you do? You will find your own niche. I don’t imagine you will need to look very hard. By this time in your life, you will have a very good idea of what you will want to do. In fact, I’ll go further and say the ideal situation would be that you will not be able to stop yourself pursuing your passions. By this time you should know what your obsessions are. If you enjoy showing off your knowledge and feeling superior, you might become a teacher.

Find that pursuit that will energise you, consume you, become an obsession. Each day, you must rise with a restless enthusiasm. If you don’t, you are working.

Most of you will end up in activities which involve communication. To those of you I have a second message: be wary of the truth. I’m not asking you to speak it, or write it, for there are times when it is dangerous or impossible to do those things. The truth has a great capacity to offend and injure, and you will find that the closer you are to someone, the more care you must take to disguise or even conceal the truth. Often, there is great virtue in being evasive, or equivocating. There is also great skill. Any child can blurt out the truth, without thought to the consequences. It takes great maturity to appreciate the value of silence.

In order to be wary of the truth, you must first know it. That requires great frankness to yourself. Never fool the person in the mirror.

I have told you that your life is over, that you should not work, and that you should avoid telling the truth. I now say this to you: be hated.

It’s not as easy as it sounds. Do you know anyone who hates you? Yet every great figure who has contributed to the human race has been hated, not just by one person, but often by a great many. That hatred is so strong it has caused those great figures to be shunned, abused, murdered and in one famous instance, nailed to a cross.

One does not have to be evil to be hated. In fact, it’s often the case that one is hated precisely because one is trying to do right by one’s own convictions. It is far too easy to be liked, one merely has to be accommodating and hold no strong convictions. Then one will gravitate towards the centre and settle into the average. That cannot be your role. There are a great many bad people in the world, and if you are not offending them, you must be bad yourself. Popularity is a sure sign that you are doing something wrong.

The other side of the coin is this: fall in love.

I didn’t say “be loved”. That requires too much compromise. If one changes one’s looks, personality and values, one can be loved by anyone.

Rather, I exhort you to love another human being. It may seem odd for me to tell you this. You may expect it to happen naturally, without deliberation. That is false. Modern society is anti-love. We’ve taken a microscope to everyone to bring out their flaws and shortcomings. It far easier to find a reason not to love someone, than otherwise. Rejection requires only one reason. Love requires complete acceptance. It is hard work – the only kind of work that I find palatable.

Loving someone has great benefits. There is admiration, learning, attraction and something which, for the want of a better word, we call happiness. In loving someone, we become inspired to better ourselves in every way. We learn the truth worthlessness of material things. We celebrate being human. Loving is good for the soul.

Loving someone is therefore very important, and it is also important to choose the right person. Despite popular culture, love doesn’t happen by chance, at first sight, across a crowded dance floor. It grows slowly, sinking roots first before branching and blossoming. It is not a silly weed, but a mighty tree that weathers every storm.
You will find, that when you have someone to love, that the face is less important than the brain, and the body is less important than the heart.

You will also find that it is no great tragedy if your love is not reciprocated. You are not doing it to be loved back. Its value is to inspire you.

Finally, you will find that there is no half-measure when it comes to loving someone. You either don’t, or you do with every cell in your body, completely and utterly, without reservation or apology. It consumes you, and you are reborn, all the better for it.

Don’t work. Avoid telling the truth. Be hated. Love someone.

that elusive firewood for my passion

2010-10-14T20:43:00.009+08:00

it's almost six months since i wrote here.. or anywhere else. perhaps my brain department for self expression has been withering away for that long as well, since i rarely express that much of myself accurately through mediums other than writing. it takes me longer to write and edit my thoughts now. it's almost tragic.

i've been thinking about uprooting myself for greener (overseas) pastures. to get a job which brings travel opportunities and a wider horizon than the distance between my office cubicle and the toilet. the thought is tempting, especially for the ambitious cub inside of me, roaring to fight it out in the corporate world. to be recognized for my capabilities and be differentiated from the rest, unlike the mammoth-like civil service system whose primary function (other than serving the non civil servants) is to equalize the efforts of civil servants who are non-scholars. i'm feeling it a little now, and i have a sinking feeling in my stomach that the hunch is going to get painfully acute as the years pass.

and so i've been checking out management trainee programmes (and other equivalents) and a particular one catches my eye. yet i feel hesitant to apply right now, mainly due to weariness and wariness. a tad too tired to pick myself up, don the corporate armour (not that i had the opportunity) and sign myself up for a job that requires long hours and tenacity. to reignite that youthful undergraduate fervour and unabashed confidence once more.... only that i might be miserable and disappointed once more.

is life a continuous test of our resilience and adaptability? or is there a balance that we might find, like a job that saps our energy but generates much more of it at the end of the day, that elusive firewood for our passion? i really wish to find it.

dream dress

2010-05-31T16:03:00.003+08:00

i fell in love with a dress. absolutely indulgent but this Kate Moss (Topshop) Lace Peasant Dress is worth the 200 bucks. I've gone to the shop twice but haven't bought it due to strong objections from my sisters that it's overpriced. The pic doesn't do it much justice really. At first sight I loved the ultra huge butterfly sleeves and I knew I would get this dress at whatever cost after I tried it on at the shop. I'm even thinking about the excuses for my sisters already.

Parallel universe

2010-05-30T15:21:00.003+08:00

It's been a year since graduation, starting work and tumbling into a r/s. All positive developments no doubt, for i'm not one who lives in her yesterdays. When today passes, it brings with it the potentiality and hope of a tomorow. And yet I sense a certain unhappiness and discontent. There's so much more satisfaction I can feel within my expansive soul, so much more beauty and song in life, and yet I am entrapped within the security of the now. It sucks to live in the present, knowing that I'm deliberately holding on and spacing out now, rather than to continue my quest of moving on to work on a hopeful future - by continually seeking to inspire and enrich myself. Quite honestly, I feel out of my element and fretful that the malleable and impressionable me should get used to this foreign element! Perhaps this is the function of a conventional worklife, when a young graduate has to concede she no longer has the freedom of her schedule on weekdays (exigencies of work) or weekends (too tired - externalities of work). But sometimes, I evaluate my life a little more dispassionately, and realize that there are concrete things in my life that contribute to that discontent. I look through photos of friends' weddings and their sincere joy and love for each other speaks to the ache inside my heart, that I can no longer ignore completely.

the light years

2010-03-30T22:23:00.004+08:00

the sensation of being light years away from a self that seems so filmsy now.

a certain ache, a sudden nostalgia grips my heart at unexpected moments.

sometimes i dismiss it with the wave of a hand or the shaking of head,

but every of those times i feel a shame that weighs heavy on my heart.

whatever happened to that burning faith and thirsty heart?

a day-by-day simple existence is beautiful in its own way,

yet so wholly incomplete.

there must be more than this, i whisper to myself wordlessly.

but a corner of me fears, the price i pay for that higher plane.

of the things that i have to give up, can i?

of the things that i have to rekindle a passion for, will i last?

of the things that i must start to make a decision for, must i really?

i bask myself in the artistic expression of the past,

of surrealism of impressionism,

or magritte, monet and van gogh.

the masters of colours, light and ideas..

can i ever forge a painting for myself so carelessly,

or am i ever numbing myself with a mirage so far removed from my self?

will it really satisfy that unspeakable, brilliant desire for beauty and truth?

i wander in my light years, wondering about the truth of my existence.

tomorrow

2009-12-13T21:33:00.000+08:00

The sensation that the memory of living on another plane, is itself light years away from my consciousness. i try to remember that certain lightness of being, that steadfast confidence and assurance, only to find that the crux of it had disappeared, and the tangy taste of freedom seem to be forever estranged from my senses.

Whatever had happened to that simple faith that all things will turn out good without me having to fret? suddenly i find the world sitting placidly in my two hands, as if any strength wrongly executed could destroy the lump of heavy clay into a formless existence.

if only forever was only meaningful in the now. if only i had to shape things one day at a time. it would all be a very easy solution of hedonism of the mind, doing whatever my whim and fancy allowed with no long term implications. Yet i've been compelled to see into the crystal ball, to make decisions that promise many tomorrows ahead.

and i realise i can't make promises. because i'm incapable of keeping them.

Boaz, not Bozo!

2009-10-13T00:13:00.001+08:00

A post from 10 months ago which inspired me then, and gave me new food for thought now. I suddenly remember, all that expectancy i had as a single girl.. and starting to appreciate this piece even more. Yet, in all honesty, a relationship is the last thing on my mind now. i'm taking a break from all these things.. and perhaps even from God. cruising along, cruising.

20 Dec 2008

No Bozos for me anymore. I want Boaz!

Amazing Excerpts from A Man Worth Waiting For by Jackie Kendall.

A man who was single until he was 53 responded with this...

An ideal man:
--Should have a passion for the quality of gentleness
--Should desire to crawl up into the lap of Jesus and abide there minute by minute each day.
--Should have a passion to be more Christlike in word, deed, and thought every minute of the day.
--Should be one who desires to control his tongue with the help of the Holy Spirit.
--Has a real desire for spiritual wisdom
--Is one who recognizes that he is of great importance/significance to God and therefore he cares for/loves himself in such a manner that he is able to love others as himself.
--Works to protect his heart and keep it open to the Holy Spirit and input from other brothers and sisters in Jesus.

Another response....

Integrity is the first thing that comes to mind. What you see is what you get. He is the same person with his family, on his job, with his friends...he is consistent. Doesn't have anything to hide from the Lord.

Wisdom. Very difficult thing to come by, because wisdom is from the Lord. Many people have knowledge, and it sounds good, but it isn't right. When we have wisdom from the Lord, we will always find God's best.

Humility. If a man has integrity and wisdom, there will always be people who want him. When that happens, it is easy to get caught up in ourselves, and fall prey to the three G's: the glory, the glitter, and the girls. The first two strengths then become a weakness, because it robs God of His glory.

Excerpt from the section "Make Him Climb, Girl":

"Make him climb a tree. The climbing would test his calf muscles and his perseverance. The top of the tree is where the best fruit is; the rotten fruit drops to the ground. A Bozo guy is content with what is on the bottom branches and even what has dropped rotten to the ground, but only a Boaz has the calf muscles-character-to climb to the top of a tree for the best fruit (you).

Psalm 80:12 says, "But now, why have you broken down our walls so that all who pass may steal our fruit?" When I read this verse I thought, You can't steal the fruit high up in a tree as easily as you can the fruit that is hanging on the lowest branches. Broken walls let trespassers into a garden....allow Jesus to place some building blocks in your hands that will rebuild where your wall has been broken. This wall of protection will not keep out an honorable Boaz. In fact, the man worth waiting for has the strength from God not only to climb a tree for you but also to scale a wall to win your heart: "For by You I can run against a troop, by my God I can leap over a wall." (ps. 18:29) Don't settle for a guy who wouldn't leap over a wall for you or climb the highest tree for you! Your heavenly Bridegroom was willing to die for you; don't settle for less in an earthly bridegroom."

"A man of noble character knows how to love long-term. How important is character? That can be answered with another question: how important is love? Love that lasts beyond the seven year itch, love that lasts beyond financial setbacks, love for better or for worse is love that is supported by depth of character.

Love is a choice, not just a feeling. Emotions come and go, but a choice is reinforced by one's character. The problem today with many men is lack of real character development. Bozos love when they feel like it. Boazes love enduringly. The growth of character enhances a man's capacity to love well and long-term.

The commitment phobia that so many use as an excuse for singleness is a reflection of shallow character. Character and love are inextricably linked, as noted by author C.S. Lewis in Mere Christianity: "Love, as distinct from being in love, is not merely a feeling. It is a deep unity; maintained by the will and deliberately strengthened by habit; reinforced by [in Christian marriages] the grace which both partners ask, and receive, from God."

A man's character is revealed during times of trial. On a date in a controlled environment, a guy can appear to be a Boaz. But it is critical to have an opportunity to see how he responds to stress and disappointment because his response reveals his character. Moses wrote, "Remember how the Lord your God led you through the wilderness for forty years, humbling you and testing you to prove your character, and to find out whether or not you would really obey his commands." (Deut. 8:2)

When you're considering a guy's character, trying to discern if he is a Boaz or a Bozo, ask yourself: Is this person qualified to help me obey God? Another way to phrase it: Does this guy draw me closer to God or distract me from God?

A Boaz will encourage you to obey God.
A Bozo will encourage you to disobey God.

He who loves you most will help you obey God. My husband and I taught a large singles Bible study for five years. We challenged more than a hundred singles every week with this exhortation from Hebrews: "And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds" (Heb 10:24). Are you looking for a man who will encourage you to obey God, or have you been spending time with a man who encourages you to disregard what God is showing you?"

A Man Worth Waiting For (MWWF) has Noble Character

--He Loves in Action as Well as Words

--He Inspires Respect

--He Exhibits the "Three I's"
Identity in Christ
Integrity in Life
Initiative

--He Protects
Physical Protection
Emotional Protection

--Sad to say, Christian girls today don't expect to be treated with honor. They don't expect guys to be in awe of them. They're so in awe of the guys, they'll do whatever the guys want! A normal, proper attitude toward you as a young woman is one of respect and protection. Men should protect your honor and your purity. A Boaz does.
Where do you think Boaz goe his sensitivity training? Consider his background. He was raised by a mom who knew firsthand how men can take advantage of women! Did you know that Boaz's mom was Rahab the harlot? Boaz was raised by a woman with a colorful past, but her wise choices decided her future destiny. Rahab chose the God of Israel, she rescued Israel's spies (who later saved her life), and she raised a boy who became a principled protector of women (Josh 2). Rahab trained her son to understand: guys are here to protect, not exploit women.

--He Provides
--At mealtime Boaz said to her, "Come over here. Have some bread and dip it in the wine vinegar." When she sat down with the harvesters, he offered her some roasted grain. She ate all she wanted and had some left over. As she got up to glean, Boaz gave orders to his men, "Even if she gathers among the sheaves, don't embarrass her. Rather, pull out some stalks for her from the bundles and leave them for her to pick up, and don't rebuke her." (Ruth 2:14-16)

After sharing lunch with her, Boaz even secretly arranged for greater provision! He was quite extravagant. As I previously noted, he went beyond what the Hebrew Law required for the needy. The Hebrew Law required only that Boaz give Ruth the leftovers of his harvest-but he gave from the harvest itself. Why does a woman settle for a man who is too self-absorbed to give her more than she needs? Why do women so willingly settle for crumbs? Why do so many bright, wonderful girls act like the needy teen I was in high school always paying for the privilege of being loved? Do women so want male attention that they are willing to pay for it rather than be the recipient of blessings initiated in secret, like Boaz's provision for Ruth?

When you're sorting through the Boazes from the Bozo's in your life, look at how a man gives. Does he give freely, generously, offer more than enough? Or does he cling to his wallet, dispersing funds reluctantly or morosely? A Boaz gladly provides.

A Bozo offers no security because he holds back financially and emotionally. A Boaz provides joyfully.

--He is a Persistent Pursuer
--Boaz approached Ruth first. He instigated their relationship. When she responded he was persistent in his pursuit. Such honorable pursuit and persistence stand in such contrast to the training that men today receive in relation to being a MWWF. From a young age, men are trained how to hide their feelings, how to win in a fistfight, how to hit a ball, how to shoot a gun, how to birdie on the sixteenth hole, and how to manipulate several remote controls simultaneously.

Some men live a whole lifetime and never master the science of How to Handle a Woman. The Apostle Peter had a wife, and he knew from firsthand experience what he wrote about in 1 Peter 3:7 "Husbands, dwell with [your wives] according to knowledge". The word "knowledge" comes from a Greek word meaning "science". A woman is a science to be studied and discovered, but so few men are coached or mentored into loving women as they need to be loved. We see in Ephesians that Paul's great commandment to men is to love them as much as Christ loves the church (Eph. 5:25). Talk about sacrificial love!

A Bozo will love a woman in whatever way he feels is best-in whatever way serves him, not her. A Boaz will love a woman in a way that shows his feelings-and persistence in meeting a woman's needs is one way he does this.

--He is a Prepared Partner
--Boaz was attuned to the heart and needs of the woman in his life. A prepared partner is always willing to attend to another's needs. We've seen that Boaz was responsive to Ruth's vulnerability both emotionally and physically. A Boaz expresses and acts on his compassion for others. A Bozo, on the other hand, focuses on himself. He may briefly pity someone in his life, but he doesn't actually do much to help her.

Boaz was a student of Ruth's heart in that he quickly ascertained her needs, quickly promised to take care of them, and quickly did! He protected her from harm, he soothed her fears, and he completed the legal legwork to marry her--all in a very short time! A lesser man would have taken no notice of this foreigner, wouldn't have thought about her safety, would have refused the hassle of taking on Ruth and her mother-in-law, and would have left the women to fend for themselves.

A Boaz of a guy speaks and acts in ways that heal a wounded woman, treating her like a princess even if she doesn't see herself as one.

--He is a Fighter of Battles
--Boaz was an overcomer. He was never one to shrink away from a challenge or let others do the fighting for him. We see this in the fact that he is wealthy. He had fought business battles to become successful. Second, he was single. In a marriage-oriented culture that considered sons as riches, he could have married any young woman. But he chose to remain single until the right woman came along. He fought the battles of loneliness and cultural pressure.

You and I have a heavenly Father who has set the standard so high through the biblical precedent of Boaz that we don't have to settle for men who can't, by faith, conquer the city of the enemy--whether it is the enemy of sexual temptation, greed or entitlement.

The battles a man wins before marriage are a forecast of the victories he will achieve after marriage.

What a man conquers before he is even married becomes a frame for future victory. Don't settle for a man who is not fighting the good fight of faith. The skirmishes he faces as a single man are only preparing him for the major wars that are ahead. A Bozo runs from conflict and battle. A Boaz faces and conquers it.

Jesus died on the cross to conquer sin and death for the sake of his bride (those who are His followers). Don't settle for a guy who isn't willing to boldly conquer the enemy in order to win the privilege of sharing this journey on this earth with you.

gothic princess

2009-10-12T21:32:00.004+08:00

company D&D next week and i'm absolutely geared up for some glamourous role play whilst others might attempt to doll themselves up as witches, ghouls and pumpkins, hopefully. absolutely evil i have become huh. I was browsing for some ideas and stumbled upon this issue of Vanity Fair that took my breathe away. Absolutely stunning.

I will definitely come to own one (or more likely, several) of these stunning dresses when I have the serendipity of finding them. If not within the week, I'll go along with the Halloween Gothic Princess look that I'm putting together in my head:

this would be the perfect dress but then again it's too impractical to buy a dress i'll only wear for eh, Halloween parties, pass off as Victorian for Victorian themed parties and maybe COSPLAY!! haha. so i was discussing with my sis how to jazz it up using accessories.

sth slightly more practical and manageable since the individual items are easier to find.

excited.

the days are long and the night short.

2009-10-11T15:29:00.005+08:00

and so i transformed the days into nights and slept through the static in my head.

I've been having such a repertoire of dreams that I suspect some of it is hallucination.

should i say, that my days have become gruesome. the silence is brutal, and the emptiness violent. gravity did its work on my soul and the corners of my mouth down-turned and forlorn. I really abhor this person I've morphed into, without hope, without personality, without a clear definition of who I am. My likes and dislikes no longer govern my preferences, my needs and wants no longer govern my decisions, my possessions and acquisitions no longer preoccupy me. I lied on the bed this morning, silently walking myself through all the things i can do, and the lacklustre of it all propelled me to sleep a little longer, 14 hours in all. it's true and apt, i've become a melancholic vegetable lost in my thoughts and hallucinations. I'm officially part of the walking dead club, those people i've always had pity on.

one thing that i have to admit, is that my sense of self had taken a hit in this entire relationship thing. it's not that I see myself lesser, God forbid. But I see myself a little lost, now that there isn't someone dragging me in one definite direction. There isn't someone to limit my decision-making liabilities to where to go for dinner, what to do for the coming weekend. There isn't someone to convince me that I was thinking too much, too far.

why am i holding on, i wonder. why can't i just move on, is the question. I think the answer should tell me where to move on to. I should be rejoicing in this new autonomy, it's just that I forgot where I was going before this. Where was I going, I'm trying to remember very hard. Who was I before this, I wonder. What preoccupied my thoughts before this?

I heard this song on the radio at the salon this morning. something about how long i'll take to get over you is how long we loved each other. there is an inkling of truth i suspect. even if the 3 months were that intense, the brutality i feel now should equate roughly to that isn't it. I give myself 3 months to get over this.

someone pinch me at the end of 3 months to check if i can feel anything.

renewal.

2009-10-06T14:04:00.004+08:00

and so we ended. I can't fathom how some people can break up many times over a lifetime; for me, the first had better be the last. it was the feeling of someone forcibly pulling me into 2 halves, and no amount of pleading could get the pain to be dulled. the very first days of separation was extremely tough, amidst spasms of tears I could feel my heart wrenching and i couldn't help but tell myself and God that i couldn't take it. The first three days i couldn't help but cry all day long, an urgent need to get all the sadness to be purged from my body. The phone laid there on the speaker silently, no longer brimming over with i-love-you and what-are-you-doing messages. How trivial it seemed, to outsiders, yet i found myself hopelessly used to the daily sweet nothings. I wanted so much to reverse the decision and be able to have him in my life again. Yet some part of me was still rational enough to keep my weak self from crumbling to the deadly temptation of reaching out once again. I told myself that I would not drop a msg to him, at least till he was back. both of us need and deserve the space to be alone.

On Saturday night, I had a mental image of a phoenix stuck in my head; amidst a flood of fire tears, the charmed bird combusted into flames, and fell as a pile of ashes, only to emerge alive once again. renewed and alive. I saw an inkling of hope in that, that if i should be able to last it out this day, i could be alive once again the next. I woke up to a hopeful Sunday; the air was crisp and hope was as substantial as the warm sunlight on my skin. I was able to laugh and smile and hope once again. It was nothing short of a miracle.

I took 2 days off from work, to recuperate both inside and out. Decided to spend today working on photo collages for my office cubicle. there is something therapeutic about making and looking at photo collages. As i see my own smiling face alongside close friends and family over the years, i'm once again reminded of how rae-diant i once was and still can be. The realisation that i have grown and learnt and loved so much over the years, that I have so many people in my life who care, gives me alot of strength to carry on... and hope for even greater transformation.

carving out the space and time

2009-09-23T21:02:00.002+08:00

time flies by in a blur as i continued to cruise on carefreely. times when i make the effort to dock and take stock, i get a shock at how time can be relative. it's only been four months since i started a few phase of my life, learning, absorbing, growing. 2 months since i've stumbled into love, and grown and learnt even more. it feels alot longer than months. feels like years. oh my. the intensity of it all seems to accelerate my flurry of emotions and ushered me into a whole new realm.

Love is tender, love is sweet. Love is also too elusive to demand that it fulfill every emotional need. i've come to appreciate and yearn even more, the stirring of the soul, the broadening of the mind, the elevation of living on a higher plane. Of absorbing and generating deep ideas and emotions that transcend the mundane everydayness of life(yes, sadly, the daily loveydoveyness does not satisfy completely). there needs to be a space carved out and preserved for the individual, to refresh, to dream, to explore, the deeper meaning and mystery of existence.

I've started to love the phrase "carve out the time and space". there's an artsy and whimsical ring to it, as if lovingly constructing a work of art for oneself. I just need to figure out what best to fill it up with. solitude? bright blue skies, seas and cotton clouds?

new dawning

2009-09-13T18:58:00.000+08:00

it has been almost 2 months since i've waved singlehood goodbye.. and yet it feels a little uncertain, as my carefree heart continues to wander, drifting off once in a while. some days i have to consciously tell myself that there's someone else in my life that i should factor in when i make decisions and appointments. other days it seemed as if the world is my personal candy shop and i have nothing else in life to fight for. it's weird. now i understand why sappy love songs always harp on the theme of "is this really love" ever so often.

I have to say that not all is perfect, and it hasn't reached the point of being a stable relationship. in many ways it feels very compartmentalised, as if it's a separate part of my life from my friends and family and interests. i have been thinking alot, too much in fact, and bore considerable stress trying to figure out where this relationship is headed and whether it's a mistake and i should bail. fighting all the inner demons and insecurities. some days i really want to just give up.

yet when he holds my hand and i pray for us, i feel so safe and secure. I then see him for who he is. the solid rock of support that is ever constant.. and an awareness that God is watching over us.

more than a little waltzing and circling.

2009-08-03T20:17:00.003+08:00

out of nowhere a knight appears on a white horse, declares that he has finally found the ONE he had been searching for all his life and promises to take care of the princess for the rest of her life.at this juncture the princess is SUPPOSED to be completely swept off her feet and throw caution to the winds, agree to get onto the white horse and they elope into the glorious happily-ever-after.

but of course, the princess is less than perfect, and is always torn between what OTHER people say is right, what she wants to do, and her deepest fears and insecurities. how do you know if this is the One? Is this too good to be true and there's a catch somewhere that this knight might wave goodbye when shit happens or passion cools off? she wants to throw everything into the wind, but everything ends up being flung in her face as her uncontrollable whims and fancies changes direction.

to cut the long story short, the prncess said yes, then no, yes, no and a half yes-no in the span of 2 weeks. the poor knight holds back his brimming tears with every heartbreak and healing, pulling himself together through the entire roller coaster ride. the princess is all too painfully aware that her constant yo-yoing can break the knight's heart once and for all, or to kill any spark of romance that can reside in a love story.

but she truly lacks the courage to say yes or no or even a maybe. as always, her wisdom rarely applies to her personal life, especially in the area of romance. she said wait.. but her actions and heart continue to yo-yo as the knight looks on with considerable trepidation.

does she really not know what she wants?

2009-06-19T23:28:00.002+08:00

i frequently wonder at how some people are remembered as people of their word. that their word is their contract and never back out of a verbal agreement even if they lose a limb or two. appointments are adhered to, promises are kept and punctuality is as natural as the air they inhale.

and i will then quite naturally despair at my lack of commitment and trustworthiness. i could say that it's an airy-ness about my personality, or a tendency to keep my options open, but if i remove all the sugar coating that protects my ego, i just have a huge character flaw. i often say things and forget them, i change my mind more often than i change my clothes (that's very frequent, mind you), i make promises that i don't keep.

my spaced out behaviour has irritated a fair number of friends and i think it might be soon before i'm left with none.

sigh.

4 years.

2009-06-17T21:48:00.004+08:00

4 years later, we meet at the same campus again. that distinctive handsome profile and confident stride. we're both markedly different by now, and lead markedly different lives, even if 4 years ago we were at the same crossroads. even if four years ago i thought we could be good friends if we had the chance to say hello. the hellos came and gone, the meetings and conversations over the couple of years faded into oblivion and soon we went back to leading our separate lives.

it would be more accurate to say that except for that crossroad where we both were lost, we are, by nature markedly different people. so different that i never found enough common ground to feel entirely comfortable around him. and he probably never quite understood me, since i was ever so self conscious around him.

and so, i still find it incredulous that he remains the only person that I still want so much to know, understand and befriend.

am i just a sucker for the tragic? that irrational desire. that irrational belief that he's different from all the others that i know and will ever know.

somewhere out there, beneath the pale blue sky...

2009-06-05T11:15:00.003+08:00

my heart continues to be leaping in joy and expectation. at every turn of event, at every instance of meeting. expectations can no longer be managed, but surrendered or stalled for a fleeting moment. i'm made vulnerable by the emotions that well within, but by hanging on to hope, i am simultaneously made invincible. sometimes i think it is a precarious joy, because now and then i start thinking that it's all but a mirage. i hear a name here and there and i become a little wary. that those acts of kindness, the encouragement and support, the connections that we make, the teasing and sharing, are but non-exclusive friendly gestures. yet the most vivid image etched in my mind is us smiling carefreely at each other with a knowing look.

it's as if we could laugh and smile with the whole world, together.

work and be content - for this is the gift of God.

2009-06-02T20:48:00.003+08:00

i enjoy work alot. alot more than i expected. it helps alot that a whole bunch of us entered the workplace together and there's always company for the tea-lunch-tea routine. i feel productive each day, excited to reach the office early so i have time to spend time with God, excited to start work, excited to be working, excited to be heading home. life is not a bed of roses, but it's alot like a garden right now. the awesome thing is that most that I've met - oldtimers- look happy to be working there too.

at the end of each day, I'm surprised at how content i am to head home, eat dinner, bathe, have my dose of red wine - and sleep. instead of feeling i wasted a day doing nothing - or work- i feel contented. starting to appreciate the verse in Ecclesiastes that says that work is a gift of God.

reunion

2009-05-25T20:51:00.002+08:00

it felt a little surreal today, as if a vague dream suddenly pops to the fore from the back of my mind. It started off with the revelation and familiar voice calling my name in the van. viola! a connection made when I was 19 and pretty much disappeared for a long while becomes part of my adult world without warning. he is still as funny and witty, still has that ability to make people around him laugh out loud incessantly. no awkwardness, just a familiarity with a little distance that time had wedged between us.

it's cool that there are a group of us newbies bumming around by ourselves for a while. We're enjoying the non-intervention kinda orientation by ourselves, separate from the old timers. corny remarks, laughter and friendly digs fill the makeshift office space constantly. good vibes. i'm starting to appreciate the off-handed remark by some people that humour is one of the most precious gifts God has given to humankind. it's a miracle drug that bridges distance and cures boredom. a first day of work begins to feel like reunion.

updates

2009-05-23T14:52:00.003+08:00

a whole myriad of happenings come crashing in, before the start of a new phase of life. hospitals, waiting, praying, wondering, silence, pacing, sitting outside the A&E department in the hot sun, switching my mp3 on and off, watching worried people pacing up and down the same corridor for news from the doctors, constantly sms-ing people to update them and to cancel on activities so i can be left alone to fight the battle. All strangers, yet a sense of camaderie as our eyes meet, and our minds preoccupied with the same uncertainty and worry.

In recent days I've become strangely used to fighting this alone physically, though i get assurances that prayers are being offered for me and my family. There came a point in time when I thought, how much easier it would be if there was someone standing by my side, and being my prayer warrior. But it's ok. i'm ok alone.

the weight of the world

2009-05-17T04:45:00.003+08:00

i felt the weight of the world's obligations upon my shoulders again, so I made the decision to cancel most appointments for the last week and the coming one for myself. I said MOST, because I'm still pretty much a doormat at heart. I just can't bring myself to cancel on certain obligations. and so i compromise yet once again. It's so sad, on one level, that I have to live my life according to the needs of others. Yet I remind myself on another level that I am no island by myself after all; others need me as much as I need them and I can't just bail out on them as freely as I would want to.

Yet, how i wish i could disappear from the face of the earth legitimately, at least for one week?

POOF!

Much Ado About Everything

2009-05-17T04:22:00.004+08:00

Caught the play, Much Ado About Nothing with the rest of the quartet at Fort Canning last Thursday. I enjoyed it thoroughly, both the company i had and the play itself. It's a different kind of dynamic with them, that is comfortable, interesting and fun. Perhaps coz each of us have such distinct personalities. Eugene the decisive leader of the pack who comes up with side-splitting comments when you're offguard. Therie the sweet-looking yet feisty LEGO doll with the hearty laughter. Darryl the practical philosopher who moves freely between reality and the realm of idealism. Rae the romantic fighting off their relentless environment-sustainability, rhetorical attacks on dreamy balloons floating into the night sky. And we all talk politics. You can't find a more interesting quartet, can you?

As for the play, I was a little wary of how much I could enjoy it at the start, since I never fancied myself to be a "play" person. I have always enjoyed the novel to the film adaptation of any story, due to the paucity of description that goes into film, and I quite naturally thought that a play would dilute a story even further. Alas, I now see the beauty of a play. the dynamism and space available for interpretation is immense, an art form that the pen or film cannot offer. Each medium causes a story to shine in its own way :)

The Shakespearean language took a little getting used to, so I was clueless for the first 10 mins, quite honestly. When my brain finally got attuned to Shakespeare however, i promptly fell in love with the grandiose language of love and loss. It was so rightfully intriguing. Reading Shakespeare would not have done him justice, since his plays are written to be expressed in the form of theatre. and theatre under the stars at that! it was beautiful. the scene of the balloons carelessly and carefully floating away to the stars had such a transient beauty to it.

Perhaps it's Fort Canning, perhaps it's the British accent, or because of the effort to infuse an Asian element to the play, I got the feeling I was watching a story unfolding in colonial Singapore. A little strange at times, but never reaches the point of being jarring. Enjoyable, i would say.

Definitely worth your money folks ;)

boring updates.

2009-04-21T20:14:00.003+08:00

I'm starting a new phase of my life on 25 May. work life, here I come!
all i can say for this whole experience of getting a job is that God has been leading me along a straight and narrow path, with all the appropriate road signs as well-maintained and well-placed as those along Singapore roads.
[no way that I could get lost, only impatient though, since the signs tended to be farther from one another than i thought initially. ]

due to some complications, I'll be having a shorter break than i thought.
which i am glad, in some ways.
that i no longer have to agonize over "to rest or not to rest".
now it's the question of how I can maximize my one month of rest.
glad to have a play, a karoke session and a guitar gathering lined up in the pipes already :)
i'm well-pleased whenever entertainment is scheduled. heh.

with a shorter break than expected, I'm embarking on my rest and recreation now, even though it's in the midst of study break.
come on, i only have TWO papers to mug for. how awesome.
more self -maintenance, exercise and rest.
I started on the Jillian Michaels workout today.

honestly, it's pretty good, even if the pike was too incredibly hard. a very good combination of strength and cardio. I was breathing pretty hard at the end of the session.
i had to push myself a fair bit since it has been a super long time since i did strength training properly, but it wasn't impossible to go through it.

at last, i also solved my longstanding insomnia problem by pulling myself out of bed at 7am for the past couple of days.
good job girl! *pat on the back*
it was like being abandoned by the rest of the world in absolute stillness when for weeks I couldn't fall asleep even at 4am.
at last, i'll be living a positive, healthy life :D

This is what dreams are made of.

2009-04-17T14:12:00.002+08:00

Susan Boyle Singer Britains Got Talent 2009 With Lyrics @ Yahoo! Video

I remain very moved. dreams that look like castles in the air, dreams that are made of the fluff of escapism, dreams glamorous but fragile like stained glass, are nothing like the dreams substantiated by the courage to pursue them, at the infinitely huge risk of being public humiliated and scorned at. It's only with courage, that dreams can have any real meaning or substance.

May we never lose the courage to dream.

amazing grace

2009-04-07T20:59:00.003+08:00

"The places, the High Places of victory and union with Christ can be reached by learning to accept, day by day, the actual conditions and tests permitted by God, by laying down of our own will and accepting His."

I feel like crying whenever i re-read what S.K wrote in his card for me. Isn't it true, that dying to self daily is the way to live out the will of God and to be at that place that is much much much better than the place i'm trying to get to by my strength. I struggle so. I am persistently trying to wiggle my way out and open up new possibilities, because the feeling of walking along this one deterministic path is scary for me. I sometimes wonder if I enjoy the feeling of being in the middle of an African pasture with acres of grass between me and another living organism, of being alone in a sampan in the middle of the Indian Ocean, rather than being like Little Red Riding Hood taking that one clear path towards Granny's house. because being in the pasture and ocean means endless possibilities isn't it. the PATH leads to a place i'm not absolutely is THE PLACE.

I really should just shut up and walk this path. my wanderings and wonderings reveal such an unbridled creature inside of me. I still so stubbornly think that God's way is not the best for me.

I think it's because I have not grasped what it means 'the grace of God'. I've been reading Philip Yancey's What's So Amazing About Grace (it's an awesome awesome read) and I realise that I am frequently trapped into thinking that God should and will withhold the very best for me because I'm not good, pious, virtuous, sinless enough. What a huge lie. My Lord has been so gracious in dying for me that i might live, so gracious in answering my prayers, so gracious in never leaving and forsaking me, so gracious in giving me a new confidence and hope in Him.

I didn't have to prove myself worthy when I decided to follow Christ. He walked with the tax collectors, murderers, prostitutes. He didn't ask them to prove themselves worthy of the kingdom of God either. Why am i now trying to make myself worthy instead of believing that as His child, i am already worthy of His blessings? I don't deserve it and I never did, but He still extends His divine arms to me.

the man of inner and outer strength

2009-04-05T01:22:00.002+08:00

The Sanguine has in many ways lived being allergic to shopping lists, to-do lists, check-lists, instruction manuals of any kind. She breaks out in mumps and itches all over, whilst rolling around the floor whining and whimpering. Atlas, it really all boils down to an almost childish fear that whatever is written in words are carved in stone in the heavens, open to ridicule by less well meaning people who stumble upon it, sabotaged by even lesser well meaning people, or inviting perhaps a stroke of bad luck to spoil it all. She used to believe, in her inner being, that there was this cosmic clown going around just to make sure the innocent wishes of children would not be fulfilled so he could jeer and chuckle in their faces. And believing in the lie that what she want she would never get, she resorted to not thinking about what she wanted, whilst placing her best bet in the elusive gift of all called serendipity, where she can effortlessly stumble upon her heart's desire when she's not looking.

Atlas! the journey saw her stumbling into potholes and ditches when she refuses to look in the corners of her heart. detours and merry-go-rounds set her thinking once again, that perhaps in trying to blind the imaginary cosmic clown, she was perhaps only blinding herself. but of course, bad habits take a long time to completely release their grip on her Sanguine life. and she continues to be led by a deliberate purposelessness disguised in the cloak of openness.

but then she remembered that she is after all a princess. A princess of the Most High, that is. Why choose to believe in the curse of the cosmic clown rather than all the power and authority she wields on account of her birthright? With a renewed courage of conviction, she decides to petition the Father with regards to her man of inner and outer strength.

He must exist somewhere, not just in the imaginary landscape where only unicorns live, ya?

siberia

2009-03-25T00:48:00.002+08:00

sometimes i think i'm evil, especially when i choose to be icy cold to guys who are persistent but i'm not interested in them. it's not out of a i-don't-wanna-lead-you-on mentality, but a real irksome feeling in my heart that prompts me to really wanna shout GIVE UP! I'M MOVING TO SIBERIA TMR AND THERE'S NO RECEPTION OR INTERNET ACCESS THERE! argh. do i attract the wrong crowd or what.

retiring tyre.

2009-03-23T20:55:00.003+08:00

i feel like a tyre that has ran good mileage, and the rough and tumble has resulted in much wear and tear. Without proper grooves, the tyre's just cruising along without any real grip and direction. For the first time in my racing career, I've no desire to be chionging anywhere, and quite ready to let it go a little. Even if I'm skidding for a bit, i can only get a few bruises here and there anyhow. the real bends in the road have been conquered.

translate back to human terms, i can't bring myself to write another term paper. Or proposal for that matter. Or read another journal article or reading. it's not exactly fatigue, coz i made sure to rectify that with much recreation, rest and exercise. it's the aftermath of wear and tear, as i said. of having done so much with my brain, it has expired. Time to move on to a sort of retirement; to take it easy, not think too much and CHILLLLLLL. there's no even urgent need for renewal of any sort. which is a strange new concept isn't it. retiring tyre is now the central theme of my life. but it has made me realise the truly important things in life. I've much desire to be spending more time with friends (who incidentally have not enough time for me now). to just chill and talk about frivolous stuff. i think it's such simple joy.

looking forward to catching Departures with S.Kiat on Friday night. it's been a long time since we hung out. It's been a long time since i hung out with most friends. if you're reading this, i'm probably missing YOU too, my friend.

bossa nova, my love.

2009-03-15T16:45:00.004+08:00

drifting in and out of Olivia's tracks, in a state of bossa nova, as I just let myself float through life, devoid of any real emotions that might ground me back to a more substantial existence. intoxicated and sedated, as if on anesthetic. I finally understand why some friends refuse to touch alcohol, after seeing other lose all control after being drunk. I've never been drunk, and i don't ever plan to find out where my tolerant level is, after seeing someone so gone. It's more than good old embarrassment, but a hit to basic self respect, to allow oneself to be so helpless.

i'm planning to give myself a 6 week break before starting work in mid june, which pretty much means i should start making plans, and book friends before they start flying all over the world. i've no wish to laze around at home or to drift through it. saving that for now, in the wake of my thesis. I was so happy to sit down to write the acknowledgements and compiling the biblio. i think i deserve this break.

life mission statement

2009-03-07T18:04:00.003+08:00

we did a little exercise to craft our personal life mission statement today. firstly, i chose about 6 verbs which resonated with me from a long list: believe, brighten, delight, dream, encourage, validate. then I chose 2 ministry areas/fields which again resonated with me: broadcasting and journalism. and viola, after some pondering i crafted a simple one-liner for myself:

"To dream, believe in and validate the worth of every individual through the field of broadcasting and journalism".

pleased with it, because i finally see the connection with the field my heart is passionate about, and the larger desire to touch lives and serve fellow humanity. I believe, that the worth of an individual can be validated, when we care and love enough to listen to his story, when we care and love enough to share in his joys and pains, when we care and love enough to extend help and hope when all is dark.

updates

2009-03-06T21:52:00.008+08:00

the thesis's going on well, with very constructive comments from the prof and much passion and love for my topic still. I find it miraculous and thank God for the perseverance I never knew I was capable of.

still mulling over a very special and enjoyable night out for a belated bday celebration earlier this week, but i'm telling my heart not to move so fast and let my brain catch up a little. If perseverance had a sequel, it would be patience. yet my heart skips a bit whenever i remember the musicality of his birthday song for me as we sat in the candlelight. I was a little self-conscious that I revealed so much about myself and did think myself a blabbermouth.. guess i'm still not quite the classy woman with few graceful words still, but the young lady still prone to bubbling over with a tad too much enthusiasm, with my words coming out faster than my brain processor. grr. his maturity in contrast, makes me seem like a teenager.

I got a job offer today, not quite what I thought I would get, but i accepted, knowing that it's where I wanna be. Mixed feelings, one of relief that there's light pointing to where i'll be going, one of disappointment that I'm not gonna be at the exact position i wanna be at. I think it's a pride issue, of thinking that I should deserve only the very best. Yet who am I kidding? I am now an undergrad with no real life experience and hey, in a couple of months i'll be a grad with no real life experience still. some of my peers are going to be benchmarked higher than me for unknown reasons but the question I ask myself is whether I believe God has His reasons for sending me where I am going and at that particular entry level. It's humbling, but even as I'm determined to prove my capability, I just want to rejoice that God has already provided for me.

jiayou.

risk and freedom

2009-03-04T14:51:00.002+08:00

To laugh is to risk appearing like a fool
To weep is to risk appearing sentimental
To reach out for another is to risk involvement
To expose your feelings is to risk rejection
To place your dreams before the crowd is to risk ridicule
To love is to risk not being loved in return
To go forward in the face of overwhelming odds is to risk failure
But risk must be taken because the greatest hazard in life is to risk nothing.
The person who risks nothing does nothing, has nothing, is nothing.
He may avoid suffering and sorrow, but he cannot learn, feel, change, grow or love.
Chained by his certitudes, he is a slave.
He has forfeited his freedom.

Only a person who takes risks is free.

you're perfect.

2009-03-01T01:08:00.004+08:00

By the way, if there were only 2 guys in the world I could choose to be perfect male specimens in terms of looks, it would be Brad Pitt and Wong Lee Hom. It's not like i would go crazy over them. I have never. But everytime i see them onscreen or in photos i can't help thinking that they are indeed, perfect. There's something about them that makes me wanna pause and just observe the magnificence with which God has made them; the curves, angles, strength. Okay, i should stop before i start sounding obsessive.

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button

2009-03-01T01:05:00.003+08:00

I cried through Benjamin Button, and didn't feel the 3hrs were that long. It's amazing, if you know that I'm the sort who can't help being bored in the middle of a 90min film in a cinema. Indeed, a multi-layered film as i like it. but i agree with reviewers that there's something very sanitized about it; the storytellers do their best to make Benjamin an "Everyman", to the extent that he really is one.. and you really forget that he "was born under unusual circumstances" as it proceeds.the only thing that i started noticing was how Brad Pitt got more and more handsome as he starts to become younger and younger.. and there was a point where he returns to look like his "Interview with a Vampire" era.

Anyways, I have this nagging feeling that the short story would be more thought provoking and insightful than the film itself. but, i'll definitely watch the movie again. Just to think through the lessons packed in it again.

after the movie, the first thoughts were that Ser thought it was like Forrest Gump, i saw a sublime link between Benjamin Button and Big Fish.
Life, is as colourful as you want it to be.

Benjamin Button's postcard to his daughter which was one of the quoteworthies in the film.

"For what it's worth: it's never too late ... to be whoever you want to be.
There's no time limit, stop whenever you want.
You can change or stay the same;
there are no rules to this thing.
We can make the best or the worst of it.
I hope you make the best of it.
And I hope you see things that startle you.
I hope you feel things you never felt before.
I hope you meet people with a different point of view.
I hope you live a life you're proud of.
If you find that you're not,
I hope you have the strength to start all over again."

Fall in Love with Olivia

2009-02-24T21:22:00.002+08:00

Love this album. I'm picking up my guitar again.

Olivia - Sometimes When We Touch - Olivia

You ask me if I love you
And I choke on my reply
I'd rather hurt you honestly
Than mislead you with a lie
And who am I to judge you
On what you say or do?
I'm only just beginning to see the real you

And sometimes when we touch
The honesty's too much
And I have to close my eyes and hide
I wanna hold you til I die
Til we both break down and cry
I wanna hold you till the fear in me subsides

Romance and all its strategy
Leaves me battling with my pride
But through the insecurity
Some tenderness survives
I'm just another writer
Still trapped within my truth
A hesitant prize fighter
Still trapped within my youth

And sometimes when we touch
The honesty's too much
And I have to close my eyes and hide
I wanna hold you til I die
Til we both break down and cry
I wanna hold you till the fear in me subsides

At times I'd like to break you
And drive you to your knees
At times I'd like to break through
And hold you endlessly

At times I understand you
And I know how hard you've tried
I've watched while love commands you
And I've watched love pass you by

At times I think we're drifters
Still searching for a friend
A brother or a sister
But then the passion flares again

And sometimes when we touch
The honesty's too much
And I have to close my eyes and hide
I wanna hold you til I die
Til we both break down and cry
I wanna hold you till the fear in me subsides

the year of practical gifts.

2009-02-24T15:35:00.002+08:00

My sisters bought me this hawt Panasonic EH5571 Ionity Hairdryer which is uber sleek looking to maintain my silky and shiny raven hair. Gosh it was a lovely surprise, after a threatening bout of disappointment nearly spoilt the hatchday. For the past week i was so stressed trying to think of what-i-want so friends know what to get me. But even if i knew exactly what i wanted, i'd rather buy it for myself because it spoils the meaning of recieving gifts i believe. It doesn't feel like a gift, if i actually asked you to buy it for me. aren't you supposed to read my mind? Sue me, but i love receiving the right gifts without me telling you :P In the end i told hwee and ching to just buy me a meal, and therie to get M.Card's book which i really really want.

Ling got me Smokey Eyes makeup! which i didn't even realise i want. and when i got it i was like "Bingo! So this is what was missing in my makeup kit" in my mind. yay! happiness.

JY wants to buy me cuff-links since i'm working soon and I was like "No way am i going to dress so formally for work" but who am i kidding. grrr. still, i told him to get me a simple and classy wallet (leather i hope?) instead of splurging on a set of metals that go bling-bling.

Grace gave me an amazing crystal mask among other things. Interesting beauty products i have zero immunity against.

Jiali gave me 3 sets of earrings from SIX! and I also bought myself another 3 sets of dangling ones and YET ANOTHER Bling Bling ring. I nearly bought a butterfly ring from DIVA whilst shopping with Tzing but i exercised self restraint. i have only ten fingers and almost ten rings in my collection.

After a review of my gifts, I've come to realise that i'm happy receiving vain gifts because they enable me to look beautiful. i'm a girlie girl! :) so keep them coming yeah :)

I just need a pretty, sturdy, med-size brown bag to make my secret wishlist complete. *hint hint*

friends forever.

2009-02-24T01:49:00.005+08:00

i think deep down i'm a playful girl who's not too serious with herself, not too serious with the world, not too serious with her heart. i have been able to go on dates, maintain some fuzzy non-friendships and moved on pretty fast even if they faded away and boys fail me. but friends are just so important to me that times when i fail them i really see the lousiest part of myself inflicting evil on those i love. Ling remembers the time i made her cry in secondary school. I remember the time i lied to Ser. I remember my outburst at Gracie. Jiali and I remember the times when we pulled through the dark days of JC together and lament how far we've drifted over the years. But so much more beautiful and irreplaceable memories are encapsulated in my heart. and even more amazing and miraculous memories are created with the friends i so deeply love and cherish. If i were to rank my priorities in life, it's Family and Friends first, Beauty and Art second and then Boys. or Boys must even be lower down the chain if i seriously ponder over my life. I love my friends so much that sometimes i get this aching feeling in my heart and tears just well up as i think about how precious they are to me. And boys have never been able to occupy such a position in my life. Love you all, more than you will ever know.

just when my striving heart ceased to protest before the throne of God

2009-02-16T22:19:00.002+08:00

the things i hold close to my heart, the things i believe God is leading me to, the things i desire, God often puts a season of extended waiting before allowing them to come to pass. It's a discernible pattern, to purify my heart as I seek what is truly the good, perfect and pleasing will of God. The confirmation of the Yale trip in 2006, the final job interview date - both came weeks after the stipulated deadline, just when my striving heart ceased to protest before the throne of God. And then, He opens the floodgates of blessings and I'm just incredulous at His provision. It's too early to say what the outcome will be, but how precious and deep the period of waiting and refining. Very thankful that God knows me inside out to know how long i can bear to wait and how long it takes me to surrender my willfulness and pride in every situation and petition.

May I ever be alive and yet thirsty for His goodness.

where is the magic?

2009-01-29T18:09:00.004+08:00

it could be the season, it could be the weather, it could be the long rides home with too little fatigue to take my mind off the strange sense of loneliness and loss. it's almost February, the magical month of the year, where dreams come true and fairies with umbrellas fly in rhapsody. But, the magic sheath is a little thin of late. I hope I won't be disappointed. There are too many wishes that need an extra sprinkling of stardust.

I wish the boy who is my friend would be less of a ladies' men and have eyes for me and me only. I've gotten to realise that I don't like competition of any sort, be it imagined or real. In my world, I have to be the princess. Yes a boy who truly listens and understands is a rare gem but when he extends the attention to every Jane, Mary and Samantha I fume. I knew I had a diva streak in me; I just didn't realise how thick it was.

I wish the boy with eyes for me and me only would become more of a gentleman. I've an allergy to men who don't watch their words yes, but a soft spot for the rough-tumble variety who really speak with their steadfast gaze and the ruffling of hair. But these are externalities no? Arghhhhhhh i never never never learn.

We never get the best of both worlds they say. Or maybe i'm not holding out long enough.

I need some magic.

the sword of damocles

2009-01-27T00:57:00.003+08:00

CNY is slowing slipping away as I drown myself in the intricacies of framing perspectives in social movements and Thai politics. I wish I could enjoy CNY more, but i guess there's always CNY next year and thesis-writing just these couple of months more. Thesis research and writing can be a daunting process, when one is plagued by deep self-doubt and the thought of giving up all altogether hangs like the Sword of Damocles over one's head. yet the next moment, the euphoria of finding another elusive but instinctive linkage within the mesh of ideas swirling round dismisses the doubts away and gives new impetus and meaning to the entire solitary process of thinking and connecting the dots. i just wish i could be more lucid for more continuous discrete moments and stop thinking so abstractly. more logic, more power!

Happy CNY

2009-01-25T21:41:00.002+08:00

i've decided to put off all job search and applications efforts until my thesis is done. because it's too tiring for a round peg to try to squeeze into octagonal or pentagonal holes in order to secure a job which sounds prestigious and pays well. there is this constant, nagging, slightly nauseating feeling that you are trying to sell your soul to an organization which doesn't even care about who you are as an individual, except for what you can offer to it. exactly what you tell yourself NEVER to do when you were 18. fast forward 4 years and facing impending graduation, the audacity of being 18 seems compromisable. but the disturbing feeling remains, especially when you try to fill up yet another "Why do you want to apply for XXXX" column in another dull and impersonal application form. they call it cognitive dissonance in psychology. psychologists then do a little of crystal-ball gazing and suggest that the individual will try to neutralise the effects of cognitive dissonance by assuring oneself and others by coming up with the rhetoric that it's not THAT different from what she said she wants to do, that it's a job that pays well, that it's just a stepping stone until a better one comes along etc. deep deep down, a cloud of depression weighs heavy.

and so i have decided to fight this darkness by walking away from the easier option of compromising my dreams when i was 18, however vague they remain now. When i decided to abandon the route of science or law to pursue something that fires my passion and imagination. When i decided to take the leap of faith and accept the gift of being ALIVE. When for the first time in my life, i tasted the freedom of walking on uncharted waters.

I'm not going back to the dungeon of being pre-18. I'm going to enjoy what is in front of me TODAY and NOW. to continue to rejoice in all that i have and am doing. to wait patiently for the hope that cannot be seen as yet. rejoice with me, my trusted friend :)

reflections.

2009-01-21T21:16:00.004+08:00

it's been a long long time since i blogged, for i left my thoughts and reflections in my personal journal addressed to God. it has been a honest time of daily reflection, prayer and communion with the One who created me, the One who loves me more than I can ever love myself, or anyone else, for that matter. It's a dark and uncertain time for me, but not of fear, just of wanting to be alone, sans thoughts and sans plans for the future. When i first learnt that one of my job applications fell through, i was stunned. Until now, it haunts me a little to realise that no, I am not invincible. My interview strategy of being authentic needs a little more preparation and reflection about what i truly want in life, and where I can be a best, of at least, good fit. I feel I've been ushered underneath a spotlight, for the audience of One and as i stand before Him, He remains slient, waiting for me to discover my limbs, that i might finally dance in joy.

I know He's watching over me, I know I'm in good hands, but it's still a tad daunting to not know whether the moment of revelation and discovery is coming, or whether i should hold my breathe and wait still longer and not get my hopes too high just as yet. the process of waiting feels indeed like the process of dying. where slowly I find my assumptions and confidence ebb away as God slowly fills it up with His promises and gentle proddings. Although for now, I feel the ebbing more acutely. I can feel the death of the assurance of a stable and secure career, the death of a love prospect steeped in true friendship, the death of being the cream of the crop. Yet there is the constant reminder that it is only when a seed falls to the ground and dies, that the possibility of it bearing fruit will come.

treading the line between dying to self and giving up.

spiritual friendship

2009-01-09T22:40:00.000+08:00

What is spiritual friendship?

It is friendship that is rooted in Christ, for the purpose of growing in Christ.

The basis of spiritual friendship is a shared relationship with Jesus Christ.

The purpose of spiritual friendship is a common commitment to help one another grow in Christlikeness.

"Every friendship is formed around shared goods that identify the friendship and help the friends understand the life and purpose of the friendship. In spiritual friendship the principal good is a mutual love for Christ and a desire to grow together in Christ. This is what distinguishes spiritual friendship from other relationships. In spiritual friendships the friends are centred in Christ, they seek Christ, and they strive to live according to Christ. Through their friendship they want to help one another live a godly and holy life. They want each other to be resplendent in goodness." (Paul J. Wadell)

Afloat

2008-12-29T17:43:00.006+08:00

1. Afloat
2. Eternity
3. Be Still
4. Yours
5. Burn
6. My Soul Waits
7. Treasures
8. Dedication
9. Goodbye
10. Sunday
11. Rescue
12. Rags to Robes
13. It is Well
14. Barabbas

gosh!! Caleb and Solomon released their album! it's really great music and exhilarating for me that a friend has made it :)

i heard Solomon perform this track live before he left last summer and it was breathtaking. it's gonna be my favourite track on this album but the rest are great as well.

Eternity

Afloat

Be Still

art hero!

2008-12-16T11:45:00.001+08:00

The invisible man rescuing art

By Simon Worrall
BBC News, Philadelphia

Mr Wittman recovered Rembrandt's stolen self-portrait in Copenhagen

There are about 100 of us packed into a restaurant in Upper Holmesburg, Philadelphia - art experts and curators, museum security chiefs, and a phalanx of FBI agents with 9mm Glocks concealed under their G-man suits.

We have gathered to say farewell to a man few people have heard of and even fewer could recognise or describe.

That is the way Special Agent Robert "Bob" Wittman prefers it.

For nearly two decades, usually masquerading as a crooked art dealer with links to the Mafia or the Colombian drug cartels, he has run undercover sting operations, luring criminals into selling him stolen works of art.

Protecting his identity means the difference between life and death.

In one operation he found himself in a hotel bathroom in Copenhagen hugging a Rembrandt to his chest as a Danish Swat (Special Weapons and Tactics) team burst into the room to arrest an Iraqi-born hoodlum named Baha Kadhoum, who was trying to sell him Rembrandt's self-portrait from 1630.

Every country has a different cultural heritage and saving these things brings us closer together as human beings

Bob Wittman

Painted on copper, the size of a paperback book, and worth tens of millions of pounds, it had been stolen from The National Museum of Sweden in one of the most daring art heists of modern times.

Housed in a Renaissance palazzo at the end of a peninsula, the Museum is surrounded on all sides by water.

And as families strolled through Stockholm's Christmas markets and skated on frozen lakes, Kadhoum and his gang set fire to a vehicle blocking the only access road.

Wearing ski masks and brandishing guns, they then stormed the building, cut the Rembrandt self-portrait and two Renoirs from the walls, and escaped by speedboat.

Lone operator

Art crime is big business. Estimated to be worth between $1.5 - $6bn (£1- £4bn) annually, it is now the fourth largest international crime, after drug dealing, gun running and money laundering.

Kadhoum and his gang spread nails in front of the museum before they fled

It is a fully globalised industry. Paintings stolen in Europe turn up in Japan or America.

They are easy to transport and hard to identify. If challenged by a customs officer, a thief can always say he bought it at a flea market for his wife.

And as yet no beagle has been trained to sniff out Old Masters.

Bob Wittman has been on the frontlines of the war against art crime since 1989.

In a distinguished career he has recovered stolen art worth millions, in more than a dozen countries.

Paintings by Rembrandt, Goya, Brughel and Rothko, Geronimo's eagle-feathered war bonnet and a piece of solid gold Inca armour are just a few of his trophies.

One of his last assignments was to investigate links between the sale of looted art from Iraq and Afghanistan and Islamic terrorism.

For most of his career, he was a lone operator. Today, the FBI's Art Crime Team has 12 agents spread across the United States. Scotland Yard has four detectives - France has 30.

Not surprisingly, in view of its vast cultural patrimony, Italy boasts the world's biggest team - 300 art-hunting Carabinieri, including agents who use helicopters to patrol the country's myriad archaeological sites.

'Regular Joe'

Like a spy, Mr Wittman's job is all about befriending and betraying.

Fox-like cunning, nerves of steel, a silver tongue and the ability to convincingly pretend to be someone else are essential.

So, too, is having a face that is easy to forget. No scars, no cauliflower ears, average height, average build.

In September Italian police recovered a Renoir painting stolen in 1975

What the Americans call "a regular Joe". Put him in a crowded room and he would blend into the background, like a camouflaged moth on a piece of tree bark.

Now, at the age of 53, the king of heists is hanging up his silver badge and gun to write a book and spend more time with his wife and three children.

Even in retirement, he will not allow his face to be photographed.

He is forging a new career as a private art-security consultant and may still need to go undercover.

Besides, there are too many criminals who would love to know the true identity of the smooth-talking FBI agent who put them behind bars.

"It's about saving the cultural property of mankind," Mr Wittman tells me, when I ask him why he chose such a dangerous job.

"Every country has a different cultural heritage and saving these things brings us closer together as human beings. When it comes to art, it's visceral. It affects us in a deep, emotional way."

2008-12-13T23:57:00.003+08:00

i am a little restless and frustrated now that exams are over and i am still stuck in an in-between kind of existence. Now that i'm back at home without an agenda the negative energy pops out of nowhere and floats around, concentrating on me. i feel like i am carrying with me an aura of hate-me-if-you-can. i don't think i did anything wrong by wanting to live my life as a separate -but not separated- entity from family. i want the space to take up painting and sketching and work on my thesis and shop and laze around doing nothing when i wish to. In many ways i wish i was living alone so there's no tension arising from my mum trying to micro-manage my life.. she knows she can't anymore but she still tries in the small ways which causes a fair amount of tension. i know she can't anymore but i still instinctively try to compromise on the small things... And neither one of us ends up being happy about it. Home just isn't a relaxing and detoxifying abode for me right now.

a little more breathing space and time to space-out will be very good. i wish to spend more time outdoors next week when i get better. I want to do some watercolouring and figure sketching. spend more time in the museums.

Therie and I met N and his graphic designer friend K at the museum the other day. Quite a pleasant surprise; i always appreciate knowing that there is a community amongst people i know who enjoy art. (although the term community is quite an oxymoron since we pretty much don't know that side of each other until we bump into each other in the galleries) N always strikes me as a very irregular kind of guy.. he's almost hyperactive in an understated sense. Not very loud or disruptive, but spaced-out, short attention span and lives in a world separated from us. I gave up trying to understand his thought patterns sometime ago. Very Keanu Reeves-like, now that I think about it. very artist-like, in another way.

As for me, more introspection and revelation from God recently reveals facets of myself i didn't really think about or realise. I'm an abstract thinker, but there's a part of me that needs a fair amount of practicality. I will not be happy painting landscapes or drawing portraits for a living because of my need to systematize, apply and analyze. i realise this at work as i learnt the ropes of watercolouring on my own. My intellectual brain and artistic brain fight for airtime 24/7 and i need to suppress one of them depending on what i wish to accomplish.

playing the tug-of-war in my mind.

dans la tete

2008-12-13T23:41:00.001+08:00

a little morbid, but sets you thinking about the choices you make in life.

my protector

2008-12-10T16:16:00.007+08:00

alot transpired between me and God over the long weekend. So much, so emotional, so deep, that I sense my own spurt of growth in those brief moments of realization that God broke me and revealed some of those hidden layers underneath the calm surface. How my attraction yet immense uneasiness around powerful and handsome men had to do with my hurts and pains in the family, my struggle to be attracted to people less than that, my own laws of living i had erected to protect myself against imagined threats and karmas. it's amazing how there's so much still, to learn about myself when i thought i had mastered the trades of psychology in my teens through wide research and prolonged introspection. Only God Himself has the unobstructed view of my soul and the amazing thing is, He loves me with all my ugliness and sins, when i myself am unable to. I felt cleaner inside-out after basking in the presence of God.

I love having my head patted and hair ruffled protectively and affectionately. But much more important is a life surrendered to God isn't it. All these other gestures are heartwarming but none as warm as seeing a man's life broken and restored by my Father in heaven. That's what God meant when He said not to stir up or awaken love until it so desires i guess. i believe that God had touched him at some point, but he has chosen to drift for abit. My prayer is that he will soon return to that point where he left God. I am sure he will find God waiting patiently there.

I had some deep talks with some brothers and sisters, overheard some conversations, did some reflection. suffice to say that one realization is that criteria lists that girls reveal about their ideal partners have a huge impact on brothers in Christ and that might be stumbling for their faith. I think the reverse situation is also true. One sister said she would like her man to connect and communicate with her, decently smart, bonus if he had kind eyes ( all of it sounds painfully familiar to my own list no doubt) but the brother who was in conversation with her later confided in me his low self esteem as he felt he had to match up to some ideal list he felt he could never fufil. it seemed to have caused him a fair amount of frustration over the years and in his relations with girls he liked.

I then asked myself if all the criteria i listed were essential. till i realize, no. just a life broken and surrendered to the Lord is all that's essential. God will lead him to be all that he should be, my lover and protector, whoever it might end up being.

family.

2008-12-10T03:08:00.004+08:00

NUS NAV is family. Bernard prayed a birthday blessing for Peter on Gala Dinner night and he said these words in his prayer (I paraphrase), “people always say that blood is thicker than water, but the spirit, the bonds that we share in Christ, is for all eternity”. It is in much agreement with this declaration that I participated in the NUS NAV Family Conference from 5-8 Dec 2008. I thank God constantly, for placing me in the NAV family for the past 3.5 years (and counting!). NUS NAV is family to me in a very literal sense; having received Christ 2 weeks before the start of university, NAV was where I learnt to utter my first prayer (with clumsy words of course), where I first learnt to do a bible study, where I first learnt to memorize Scripture, where I first understood the meaning of “fellowship” as more than food and fun, where I came to realize that a simple question posed like “how are you doing” is less of a nicety, but more of a sincere enquiry of my well being. For others in the ministry, NAV might not have been the first place where they took baby steps towards God, but I believe this is the place all of us found a genuine spiritual family that was not ridden with cliques and factions; rather, one where sinful but redeemed people came together in love and acceptance, despite our own struggles and brokenness.

Peter shared on the second day of the conference on ICEBERGS. Each of us, whether Christian or not, carry with us baggage; icebergs that look innocuous and presentable enough, but underneath the surface lurks layers and layers of unresolved issues, fears, pain, insecurities. Other people can only relate to us and see whatever little that surfaces. These different hidden layers underneath the water surface have resulted in modes of thinking and behavior that might not be conducive for our lives and relationships but we bring them with us wherever we go because they are pretty much a part of us. But God cares about our suppressed layers and is interested to help us break those layers to grant us true freedom in Christ. If only we are willing to be vulnerable and prepared for the brokenness that has to come before fruitfulness. In a loving community where God is the only reason we call each other “brother” or “sister”, I was allowed the space to make mistakes, to break down and share my deepest struggles, to grow closer to a loving God, to learn to pray and intercede instead of despair, to know my brothers and sisters as spiritual siblings and not just hi-bye acquaintances. There was discomfort, pain and tears in the breaking and molding, but much joy, love and peace in the restoring thereafter. God does not break us only once in our walk with Him however. The process was possible and bearable each time, only because I had family to see me through.

I really appreciate how the graduates came back to participate fully in this Family Conference; their mere presence communicated to me that this spiritual family is for eternity and all “barriers” to communication (age, gender, nationality etc) are imagined. It doesn’t matter if I was a year 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 etc. We are all related to a loving Father, redeemed by the blood of Christ, led by the Holy Spirit. Through their input and sharing, I gained new perspectives on who God is and what a community is. My ties in NAV are not going to expire after I graduated from the 4 years I spend in university. The prayers we utter for each other and the praise we give God in unison will ring for all eternity before the throne of God. The one definite commitment that I am making to God after this Family Conference is to continue to be part of this big family. (Hebrews 10:24-25)

But of course, NAV is not a perfect family, just as how our own natural families have their quibbles and difficulties. There might still be people in the ministry who feel that they are but outsiders looking in, who believe that their ICEBERGS are too shameful to be surfaced or that they cannot “click” with the family. There are still times when I feel like an outsider and struggle with meeting up with others or even coming for camps and retreats. But God has placed us here in this family for good reason. That in the occasional collision of icebergs manifested through conflicts with brothers and sisters, God can chisel away at the massive ice layers we each carry. That when God does deal with the hidden layers we are not alone, that we can pray for one another and allow others to pray for us. I’ve come to realize that people can only show me their love for me to the extent that I allow them to, and I can sense acceptance only to the extent that I am willing to be open and vulnerable with the spiritual family I have been placed in. We are a Grace Community because we learn to give grace to others, just as how God gave us (and is still giving) His grace, where we learn to receive grace from others so that we might receive grace from God, where we learn to trust others, that we might trust God. This commitment to community is more than warm feelings, but a conviction. I believe that what eventually emerges from God’s chiseling would be sparkling GEMS, the most perfect cut that God had in mind when He created each of us. It is my sincere prayer that God will continue to strengthen the ties in this loving spiritual family, that lives would be transformed and be set free in Christ, that we will continue to grow together to love as Christ did. (John 15:17)

goody goody

2008-12-04T12:11:00.003+08:00

I'm gonna take up FIGURE DRAWING!

http://www.nus.edu.sg/museum/eflyers/FigureDrawing.html

very excited.

which also means i need to get a part time job to pay for the fees. Let me know you have recommendations please!

bang bang, my baby shot me down.

2008-12-04T01:13:00.002+08:00

For some reason this song has been playing in my head for days. i dedicated it to tzing because i think she'll like it :) and i like it too. each time i listen to it, it speaks differently to me. for some reason the first time i heard it i thought it was a really dark song. the second time it was passionate like tango. the third time playful like 2 kids on a merry-go-round... and my sister just walked past threatening to shoot ME down if i keep replaying it like that.

family violence, i call it.

woooooosh.

2008-12-03T23:45:00.002+08:00

i'm starting to think that I am becoming the Rousseauian natural man who is by nature asocial and made corrupt when interacting with people and hence becoming ridden with amour propre, the love of the appropriate, over love of self amour de soi. i went out of the house today for my Contemporary Politics of Southeast Asia paper this evening and i felt like i didn't know who i was, relative to the larger reality outside of me. To quote Jian's sms after our paper: "OMG it's the Real World! It... Looks. So... Different." It just took me a while to figure out i had a self separate from the rest of the world. it's almost infantile and a little scary. It was good to interact with the yoshi-ians for a while before the paper and goof around with the Nav sailors more after my paper. I need a social life or i might wither. i might have to deal with my corruption but that's Real Life and i would like very much to be a real human beings dealing with real issues.

T called today and we talked for abit. He's nice and comfortable to talk to and be around with and i think we hit off quite well since we knew each other. He still owes me a date and reminds me periodically that one day it will come to pass. but anyways my threshold for conversation capped at 30mins. i think i'm becoming old.. but i think it's because i've acquired a distaste for long conversations unless i'm ready to go deep.. and there are only so many people i open up to.

updates on the internal life of the enigma

2008-11-28T22:56:00.005+08:00

my dad went for a tooth extraction a few days ago due to complications from his wisdom teeth and it induced in me a newfound fervor and conscientiousness in my daily teeth-brushing rituals. decaying teeth are not pretty sights to behold, especially when they've been uprooted and you are able to scrutinize the gaping black hole where good ol' healthy, pearlie white enamel is supposed to be. i was happy to note however, that as of yesterday i remain wisdom-teethless. the trauma of tooth extraction might very well regulate my uncontrolled and sometimes guilt-ridden eating habits (for a week or so?) but i REALLY hate porridge so no thanks.

therie is vehemently opposed to my deliberation on doing a soft rebonding for my hair. my conscience does prompt me that i don't really want straight hair but soft healthy hair so it does make alot of sense for me to go for some elusive DIY treatment rather than the "easy way out" of breaking up all the hydrogen bonds and regrouping them in hope they can look natural in the longer run. however, as usual, i'm a little downtrodden with my new trim - i never am completely happy with my hair; it's always in need of a haircut or should-not-have-been-cut. i need to accept the volume and frizz to a reasonable extent i concur. (but have never acted upon this head-knowledge conviction)

i hitched a ride from someone in school the other day and there was something amorphous about the way i thought his driving technique attractive. it was a smooth and decisive woooooosh ride. eh. i can't really explain it. and there's something about the way that he rarely smiles except when in conversation outside of class. or how he laughs out loud very often when he talks to me. i think i need to be less easily attracted to people. wake up girl!

the situation in Thailand is fascinating and in India worrying. At the back of my mind though, I'm concerned with my thesis on the protests in Thailand; so much new material to write about due to the turn of events in the past week or so.. i feel an excitement in my stomach, as if i'm at the academic forefront of things, but an equal and opposite thrust - a fear that I will not be able to do a good job with it. it's the feeling of not wanting to start on a piece of art or writing or music because

1) you know you want it to be as good as you know it has the potential to be
2) you know you need time and space to do that
3) you are afraid with the time and space it's still going to fall short of what it could be.

but i'm halfway in and i'm not about to give up what the Lord has given me. You go, girl.

de temps en temps

2008-11-22T18:20:00.000+08:00

De temps en temp Je craque sous le poids de l'espérance
Je vais parfois à contre sens
De temps en temps
J'ai des flèches plantées au coeur
De la peine, de la rancoeur
De temps en temps
Je ris de rien
Je fais le con parce que j'aime bien
De temps en temps
J'avance en ayant peur
Je suis le fil de mes erreurs
Et très souvent...

{Refrain :}
Je me relève sous ton regard
Je fais des rêves où tout va bien
Je me bouscule, te prends la main
Au crépuscule, je te rejoins
Je me relève sous ton regard
Je fais le rêve d'aller plus loin
Je me bouscule, te prends la main
Du crépuscule jusqu'au matin

De temps en temps
Je plie sous le poids du sort,
Et des souffrances collées au corps,
De temps en temps
Je prends des coups dans le dos
Des conneries, des jeux de mots,
De temps en temps
Je regrette l’innocence
Qu’on peut avoir dans notre enfance
De temps en temps
Je veux la paix
Pour moi, je n’ai plus de respect
Et très souvent…

{Refrain}

De temps en temps
Je pense à tort
Que pas de larmes, c'est être fort
Au fond ce que j'attends
C'est voir le bout de nos efforts
Que l'amour soit là encore

Je me relève sous ton regard
Je fais des rêves où tout va bien
Je me bouscule, te prends la main
Au crépuscule, je te rejoins

Don't Judge on Appearances - By Cliff Young

2008-11-22T11:44:00.001+08:00

The average man's judgment is so poor; he runs a risk every time he uses it.
-- Edgar Watson Howe, American Editor

Have you judged a person not worthy to get to know or start a relationship with?

Have you judged yourself as not good enough for something or somebody?

Have you judged a situation to be insurmountable with no hope of change?

We tend to make these determinations because we base our conclusion about others, ourselves, and our situation on superficial information and perception rather than on knowledge and discernment. We see the same every night on television reality shows, political commentaries, and even sports reports. Judgment is made by the way things appear instead of with accurate information and understanding.

Stop judging by the way things look (mere appearance), and make a right judgment (John 7:24).

Others

Have you ever labeled someone in your mind as a result of a first impression? I catch myself making assumptions or passing judgment (positively and negatively) on people based upon their affiliations, the way they look, what their profession is or where they may live. I know this isn't what God wants me to do, nor do I consciously set out to make such judgments, yet I inherently fall short.

God did not create the division, denominations, or political parties separating us today. We have. As a result, we use these dividing lines to categorize and make assumptions instead of getting to know others for who they really are. When we label people, we put them into a "box." This limits our thinking, how we care about others, how we treat people, and how we share God's love.

When a Samaritan woman came to draw water, Jesus said to her, "Will you give me a drink?"....The Samaritan woman said to him, "You are a Jew and I am a Samaritan woman. How can you ask me for a drink?" (For Jews do not associate with Samaritans) (John 4:7, 9).

Regardless of appearance, background, heritage, gender and even tradition--Jesus initiated a conversation with the Samaritan woman accepting her for who she was and to offer her eternal life.

If we are striving to live a life that is Spirit-filled and more like Jesus, we should make every effort to interact with people in the same way Jesus did, with compassion, forgiveness, grace, mercy and love.

Don't judge others solely on appearance. Take the time to get to know a person's heart and their character. You are the one who might be changed.

Ourselves

Have you ever looked into the mirror and felt discouraged? Do you compare your talents, abilities, and possessions to others and feel you were overlooked by God in some ways? I fall into this trap and often ask myself, "Why do I evaluate myself through the eyes of society and media rather than through the eyes of Jesus?!"

The world's opinion is temporal. We rarely keep up with the latest hairstyle, fashion, cars or gadgets for a season, let alone throughout our lives. However, if we have a Kingdom perspective, we will begin to accept ourselves for who we are, a child of God. We can then appreciate our differences and embrace the individual journey God has for each of us.

God doesn't think of us as ordinary, common, or unremarkable. He sees beautiful, extraordinary, valuable creations formed with His hands and exactly the way He designed.

So God created man in His own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them (Genesis 1:27).

Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as braided hair and the wearing of gold jewelry and fine clothes. Instead, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God's sight (1 Peter 3:3-4).

The Pharisees were some of the most pride-filled, judgmental individuals of their time. Adorned in their robes and embellishments, they would stride through the temple courts thinking highly of themselves while looking down upon others. Though they may have been emulated by some because of their outward appearance, their hearts were hardened and their focus was on themselves rather than on God.

They (Pharisees) don't practice what they teach....Everything they do is for show....They enjoy the attention they get on the streets (Matthew 23:3, 5, 7).

Don't scrutinize over yourself based upon ever-changing guidelines set by the world's standards. Praise God for the uniqueness in which He created you.

Our Situation

It's easy to feel pessimistic at how the state of our country, our family (or lack of) and our life appears. We wake up each day to the uncertainties of national security, high taxes, gas prices, job security, debt and the stock market. We can choose to approach our circumstances by complaining, blaming others, doing nothing, and hoping for a change, or we can seek ways to alter it.

Paul shares his secret of how to deal with every situation.

I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether in plenty or in want. I can do everything through Him who gives me strength (Philippians 4:12-13).

He tells us we can do (by taking action) everything (having no limits) through Him (through God) who gives us strength (with the ability to accomplish it). I truly believe this.

I have asked Jesus to be the Lord of my life. Yet, when I worry about and evaluate situations based on how they may appear (taking too long, going a different direction, no foreseeable solution, etc.), I do not demonstrate my trust in Him. Asking ourselves, "Have I completely given 'it' (job, relationships, family, finances, etc.) to Him?" will continue to mature us in Christ.

Trust in the Lord with all of your heart and lean not on your own understanding (nor how it may look) (Proverbs 3:5).

Lift up your specific concern to the Lord and ask Him to show you the direction and action to take. Be patient and prayerful--the answer may be "yes," "no," or "not yet."

I have discovered that basing my judgment and conclusions on how people and situations appear is often flawed as a result of my own restricted vision. It reminds me of the time I began watching a 3-D animated movie without 3-D specific glasses. Even though I could see the picture, it was blurred and distorted. With the appropriate lenses, however, the whole screen came alive with color, depth and clarity.

I often struggle seeing how God is using me or those around me. It may be difficult comprehending how my current situation will help me grow or where it may lead. However, if I continually look at my life and my surroundings through Jesus' eyes and perspective, I will see myself, others and my situation with love, joy, peace and patience.

May you be blessed for your good judgment... (1 Samuel 25:33).

De Ton Amour

2008-11-22T11:40:00.001+08:00

De ton amour

Je m'tais fait

Le seul secours
Que j'attendais
Et tes "toujours"
Et tes "jamais"
C'est un peu court
Mais j'y croyais
Mais ca y est, tout est dit
On s'tait mal compris
Tu joues, t'as perdu, tant pis
Je ne vais plus t'attendre
Ni la nuit, ni le jour
Tu peux toujours attendre mon retour
J'ai fini par comprendre
J'en ai assez, j'ai fait le tour, le tour
De ton amour
De ton amour
Je n'garde rien
Y'avais pas lourd
En y regardant bien
Je passe mon tour
J'en ai assez
De tes discours
De supermarch
Mais ca y est, tout est dit
On s'tait mal compris
Tu joues, ta perdu, tant pis
Je ne vais plus t'attendre
Ni la nuit, ni le jour
Tu peux toujours attendre mon retour
J'ai fini par comprendre
J'en ai assez, j'ai fait le tour, le tour
De ton amour
Moi j'en veux plus
C'est sans recours
N'en parlons plus
Car ca y est, tout est dit,
On s'tait mal compris
T'as tout perdu, tant pis
Je ne vais plus t'attendre...

Un jour, je comprendrai la poésie dans votre mélodie.

2008-11-20T14:29:00.000+08:00

French music

a perennial problem.

2008-11-15T01:39:00.002+08:00

i have a perennial problem with handsome and/or powerful men. i find them highly distracting and myself highly inauthentic, stiff and silent around them. if there's one thing i have a problem with, is to be unlike myself, talking too loud or too little, setting myself on a quest to promenade. my latest resolve is to avoid/ignore the said species.

Thoughts on US elections 2008

2008-11-08T13:38:00.002+08:00

I started to follow the course of the elections only after i read Obama's book, The Audacity of Hope some months ago. If i recall correctly, it should be just before he clinched the Democratic Presidential Nomination from Hilary Clinton. Before that, i was rather disinterested since the debate between Obama and Hilary was largely on the technicalities of policies. The only thing i could remember about Obama was that I was in the US for summer school in 2007 and in a hotel room in New York, someone in the group was watching one of Obama's speeches online and said that his speeches moved him to tears. Still, American politics remained too remote relative to my existence, even if i was in the country at that time. There was the Met and Fifith Avenue and Boston to explore and what occupied my interest were random things like the portraitist who wielded magic out of charcoal and Labyrinth, the amazing bookstore tucked away at the corner of New Haven where i picked up Michael Walzer's Just and Unjust Wars for USD$5. There was so much to see, so much to experience and so much to love about America.

Yet, I cannot adequately express my thoughts after reading Obama's book; suffice to say that his title speaks it all and it changed my outlook on life. Yet this change was not a subtraction or addition to my worldview, but an articulation and distillation of ideals that resonated inside of me. A moment of epiphany, if you will. There was something in me that clicked and I contemplated the possibilty of studying law in the US after my undergraduate studies. As I followed the course of the elections, through the news, election debates and of course the all-too-hilarious Saturday Night Live, I began to increase my appreciation and admiration of the American system, which had started more than a year ago when i was reading Tocqueville's Democracy in America for my Democracy class. There was something about the spirit of democracy that spoke of more than an electoral system or a way of governance; it was the tenacity of the human spirit to overcome odds and the will to bridge chasms between the stratas of society that enamoured me. To me, Obama embodied that American (or should i say, human) spirit. Of course, when Obama won the elections a few days ago, I was in a state of euphoria. a paradoxically calm euphoria, because i expected him to win. It just seemed to me improbable that the America would not elect him to lead the nation. But of course, I was also painfully aware of my distance from America; both physical and psychological. I am but an outsider, looking in. However, even as an observer of American Politics, I remain greatly inspired and encouraged.

I am doing this module, Rhetoric and Politics for my Honours class and I had to pick a speech and evalutate its rhetorical and political effectives. Expectantly and expectedly (my coursemates, who endured my vocal views on American politics), i picked Obama's A More Perfect Union. Critics have dismissed Obama's exemplary oratory and writing skills as nothing more than Sophistry, but personally, i sense in the now President-of-United-States an authentic spirit and sincere hopes of serving his country and upholding the ideals of humanity, articulated by the Founding Fathers of America in the preamble to the United States of America,

"We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defence,promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America."

Of course, President Obama has much on his hands, with the Wall Street meltdown, the war on Iraq and many other pressing issues. But i believe that America can and will overcome the challenges ahead.

May each of us find in ourselves the same tenacity of spirit.

2008-11-08T00:39:00.001+08:00

I sense that i'm falling sick :( And now's a crucial time to get all that work done. O Lord, sustain me!

private pains.

2008-10-29T21:35:00.002+08:00

by chance i got to know that Bit's dad passed away. it was after he appeared in class to give a funny (as usual) presentation on Hitler's speech-making skills. I guessed it from his tired eyes actually, when i stopped to chat with him; i didn't probe and Mark broke the news to me after he left. I knew Bit would give an entertaining presentation; yet i found myself shocked that he cared enough about school to brace himself to give a presentation in the midst of that pain. And then it hit me today how we all have our private pains; some more than others, but we all bear pains under the shield of a public persona.

And it made me all the more determined to see beyond my private pains and fears. To see everyone else as a worthy and important and delicate being that the Creator has made in fear and wonder.

Koizora

2008-10-26T22:51:00.010+08:00

i fear that i might be detaching myself from reality by immersing myself in movie and TV. perhaps it's a sign that stress is setting in once more, this season of the semester. it's much easier to do nothing constructive and stay in virtual reality without worrying over how my timeline is faring. Yet withdrawal symptom of emptiness looms after the screen stops moving and the static picture reminds me that i'm still where i am, with that mountain of work to do and that lack of excitement and colourful emotions that these characters have. My emotions? two-dimensional boredom. Watching people who laugh and cry and live purposefully makes me envious. oh well :(

everything you would expect in a tear-jerking, heart-wrenching love story between a couple whose love spans over high school and beyond. love it for its beautiful cinematography, perfect characters and dreamy landscapes, hate it for how much of a utopia the movie etched into my head. still, i would watch it again. and again, maybe.
sigh.

coming alive!

2008-10-23T21:54:00.004+08:00

I am rather pleased with how seminar discussions went yesterday; i came alive to ponder aloud the thoughts that i had with regards to modern political speech and theory of communications in Rhetoric & Politics class. We debated (or rather i brought up the particular issue) about Liefenstahl and the use of cinematography to enshrine Hitler's speech in The Triumph of the Will. Invariably, the discussion led to media portrayal of even more recent speeches and yes, we ended up talking about Joe (NOT Biden, the plumber i mean) and Obama. I think I've given myself the honorable title of THE Obama Supporter in class. I'm not proud of it persay (because pride is sin!), but let's just say I know the grounds on which my preference and support lies and I'm thankful that the Lord had given me the curiosity and capacity to think widely about different issues and subjects instead of basing my opinions on hearsay and impressions. Since becoming a Political Science major, i learnt to greatly disdain comments that have not been carefully thought through and pondered; regurgitation of stale positions on any matter is most adverse to my taste.

Also, I'm beginning to really enjoy all that has come my way; Architectural Theory, Film Art, Art History, French, Sociology of Media, Rhetoric, Music, and of course, Political Science. Since waltzing towards the realm of ART in its various forms and disciplines, I've grown to appreciate beauty in more nuanced and satisfying ways. I now have a greater vocabulary and better grammar to express a deeper level of the mysteries of being alive. I might not have known why i chose Political Science in NUS 4 years ago, but it's becoming clearer and clearer that God already knew beforehand (and i knew instinctively) this is the path to enrichment. The pact i made with myself (because then i had not yet known GOD) was that it will be a worthy journey. That i will learn not to get good grades (because that will come as a result of the latter), but to LIVE a fruitful intellectual/internal life. And i'm very very very grateful and thankful and exuberant that every semester has been such enrichment of my soul. God really really really knows best.

What is Art?

2008-10-21T11:42:00.009+08:00

“A real work of art destroys in the consciousness of the recipient the separation between himself and the artist, not that alone, but also between himself and all whose minds receive this work of art. In this freeing of our personality from its separation and isolation, in this uniting of it with others, lies the chief characteristic and the great attractive force of art.

An artist’s work cannot be interpreted. Had it been possible to explain in words what he wished to convey, the artist would have expressed himself in words. He expressed it by his art, only because the feeling he experiences could not be otherwise transmitted. The interpretation of works of art by words only indicates that the interpreter himself is incapable of feeling the infection of art. And this is actually the case, for, however strange it might seem so, critics have been people less susceptible than other men to the contagion of art. For the most part they are able writers, educated and clever, but with their capacity for being infected by art quite perverted or atrophied. And therefore their writings have always largely contributed, and still contribute, to the perversion of taste of that public which reads them and trusts them. “

Leo Tolstoy, ‘What is Art’ in Aesthetics, 1965

Of Rodin and Wong Kar Wei.

Rodin, a French sculptor who created the partial figure, who worked with the vision that the human figure is complete without the sum of its parts. He used marcottage and repetition to a feverish pitch; frequently reusing and reassembling the body to create different personas. The same schizophrenic tendency exists in his renaming of The Poet to The Thinker, The Vanquished to The Age of Bronze.

Wong Kar Wei, Hongkong director who created and recreated his characters in different films, the same name, the same idiosyncrasies, different settings and stories told. He freely used takes of one movie and transported them to another, for stories are but disparate images, waiting to be made sense of.

Of Magritte and Jay Chou

René Magritte, French Surrealist who used the constant image of the man in the bowler-hat to orchestrate different enigmas. The simplicity of a man is rendered not-so-innocuous in his juxtaposition with a life-sized fish or a green apple but critics are never able to get to the heart of the matter; is the reusing of the man in the bowler-hat a statement?

Jay Chou, Taiwanese songwriter and artist who used the same musical themes for ten tracks in his 8 albums to date, evolving in his pieces in slight notches, while retaining the constant formula. The spin-offs from his diverse musicality highlights the pirate nature of the music industry itself. but why call it piracy and not an art movement?

the quintessential truth

2008-10-17T22:10:00.004+08:00

it was a strange day that i had. affirming and hopefully, yet puzzling. As i shared with her my bgr (or lackthereof) fears, she said with much kindness that i must surely know that i am attractive and have many suitors. quizzically, i studied her gentle face for signs of truth as she uttered those words, but promptly i shut my eyes and shook my head, as if trying to remove the tangible weight of her words from my ears. how can it be if i don't notice it at all? yet i know this wise woman of the Lord will not lie to me.

i did not dare to probe further what or who she meant in those words of affirmation. as i went on my business in school and finally had solitary time on the bus journey back, i reflected on what we shared and decided in my heart that i had done right by letting that comment slip. if i hadn't noticed anyone my way, it must be that we're not ready or that those people weren't God's choice for me. He, in His infinite wisdom, had veiled my eyes and guarded my heart with a fierce tenacity. i have in my mind a much zealous and jealous Father who knows what's best for me, which is very comforting. the little piece of quintessential truth i had not probed, and yet it brought me a tiny glimmer of hope.

of oscillation and equilibrium

2008-10-13T23:55:00.007+08:00

i've come to understand that we all oscillate, in the breeze of our fears and our doubts. It takes more for some to forgive their own waverings, but we can all take solace in the fact that we're always connected to the pendulum that will never let us go, a force that counters gravity on our behalf and gives us a true security in this ride. we can swing to extremes but there is always a place of equilibrium to return to.

i've come to experience prayer as a lifeline, especially in those painful and dark moments of silence. or so it seems. sometimes, it's not the silence but the deafening voice of self doubt and fear that drowns out rationality and spirituality. i pray to God without immediate relief, and can only summon enough remnants of faith to remember to will myself to hold on to the glimmer of belief that the prayer is heard and i am in good hands. No overwhelming sense of peace flood me, but the voices subside and i can finally sleep in that true silence. i awake with a renewed sense of purpose and hope the following day and watch in thankfulness as life unfolds to present me with gifts and little blessings that make my day. And then i know for sure that God had heard and prayer is the very very essential thing to hold on to in the midst of the tempest, no matter how tempting it is to let go of all hope of life in the choppy waters.

i've come to believe that honesty to who i am is not vulnerable. i fight the urge to put on makeup when i'm feeling insecure and scared. and i sense that authenticity is my strongest shield and fortress against self-doubt. and i transcend the meagre worries and insecurites and come to see that i have much more to offer to this world than a mask.

i've come to hope that the one i would love possess 5 core qualities. All these i see in different people who have crossed my path and i believe that he exists as an entity, not a list floating around in the recesses of my mind. One, a love and fear of God. Love to keep him close to God and Fear to keep him from wandering too far. Two, a tongue of affirmation and kind words to edify all those around him. Three, an individual to connect with me spiritually, intellectually, emotionally. Four, a man of inner and outer strength. Five, a level of comfort with him that allows for me to be who i am and knowing that i am still loved.

i've come to realise that i CAN ask for all these things, because God refined this list for me. i ask in unabashed boldness, not unlike a child asking a parent for guidance. it takes honesty to one's own heart, honesty to face God's heart, honesty to even dare to articulate this honesty.

perhaps perhaps perhaps

2008-10-12T21:20:00.003+08:00

been feeling paradoxically deeply empty, as if i had voluntarily ebbed away my youth sitting around feeling empty on weekends and doing nothing active about it. the worst part of it isn't the emptiness, but the looming belief that i'd chosen wrongly to cut people, dreams, activities and things away from my life. i wish to think that they were right choices; a honing of academic skills, an enrichment of my inner life, a guarding of time and energy, an investment towards my calling into the future but all signs point to a lack. a lack of activity now that fulfills my emotional and social needs.

if i had been more rebellious i'd have packed my bags and left home to see the world when i was 18. Perhaps if i had done that i'd have a deeper understanding of what it means to choose and to live.

if i had been more directed i'd have left my studies to pursue my inclination towards music and the arts. Perhaps i'd have met people who inspired me to create works of beauty that transcended the mundane.

if i were a more determined person i'd have mastered all the skills i've learnt but never acquired. Perhaps i'd have done something useful with my time and daydreaming.

if i were a less contradictory person i'd just follow my heart instead of sit down and hear the heated exchange between my mind and my heart; with the moralising mind admonishing the weak-willed whimpers of my heart. Perhaps i'd have had seen more of the world and forged a path for myself.

but i had done none of that. i am me and that's no me in that parallel universe of "Perhaps".

i can't see God in the picture but i know He's there somewhere, leading me down this path. I just wish that I could see what He sees. because from my vantage point, it does seem that i've wasted much of my youth and killed too many premature dreams.

i'd always thought the most unrealised and unfulfilled the people in the world are those who don't know where they're going and why they're living when they're 50. the wanderers and the bummers, the people who drift along life with no apparent purpose or destination. then stories entered my life and it seemed that they were perhaps the people who are the true romantics who defied the dictates of a tyrannical "society". by and by i learnt that 'conventions' and 'doing the right thing' by going through school, meeting a passable someone and dating and getting married and have kids and grow old, losing one's looks and security and love in marriage is downright sad and 'brainwashed' way of living life. i was truly depressed with the lack of meaning in my life then and with the meaningless existence i was convinced i had to follow. i was more than convinced that i was trapped in a body and a life that was designed to constrict and suffocate me.

i then met God. it seemed to me then that He showed me that life was much more than the drab existence i was doomed for. i experienced a glimmer of hope in the word Salvation. it was a word i never knew and a concept even more remote. it's been coming close to 3 years, this life of Salvation i've been living. And i have readjusted my outlook on life, grappling with the Christian faith and Christian conception of life purpose and marriage. i gained much hope, i was putting on the new self that i found in Christ. it seemed to me that i was created for happiness, purposefulness, godliness and LIFE to the full. but these months, i am starting to fear once again. i fear that my transformation in Christ had been regressing, for i confront a familiar past packed with deadening emptiness and disconcerting anxiety that time is slipping away and i am being sedated into a living-dead status.

whatever is happening to me? did i do something wrong?

Youth without Youth (2007)

2008-10-09T02:04:00.002+08:00

i watched a Surrealist film today. i didn't understand a minute of it. i can't believe it. i finally have to concede that there are films that COMPLETELY elude me. i'm stunned. the reviews were all bad, which i'm guessing because the top critics at Rotten Tomatoes are mere mortals like me. I found a mini surrealist treatise on the film and wow, it STILL eludes me big time. NO more Picturehouse for me for a while.

broken cisterns.

2008-10-06T23:35:00.004+08:00

it hit me that the first impression God gave me when i first stepped into His House 2 years ago that i could freely drink from the river that flows before His throne. it hit me today when i was listening to a random evangelical sermon podcast that I am collecting water in broken cisterns in a dry and thirsty land when God says to seek His unending river.

"My people have committed 2 sins: They have forsaken me, the spring of living water, and have dug their own cisterns, broken cisterns that cannot hold water."

Jeremiah 2:13.

I feel my own desperation in collecting remnants of mirages of oasis in broken glassware very much recently. As if seized by an unknown, looming fear, i could not smile as readily, walked as reassuringly, talked as openly about my struggles. I need to repair some shameful brokenness and i have to weld the brokenness with much meticulousness to mask that hysterical fear of being abandoned to fend for myself. an irrational dread pervades. I tried telling myself that this too would pass, but my parched tongue constantly torments me that i am in need of refreshing water. i am very much afraid of being left behind as people around me move on to find their loves. how juvenile huh. but I really need to believe that I am not wasting away.

2008-10-02T00:34:00.003+08:00

the day i manage to consolidate all my blog posts from 04 till now, is the day of convocation of the amateur poet-writer. perhaps the convocation of amateur political scientist will come first, even.

what America needs now

2008-10-01T22:08:00.004+08:00

Calm, Methodical Obama

vs.

Angry, Ungracious McCain

Friday's unique free-form debate format offered the best insights so far into the vast differences, values and style of Barack Obama and John McCain, and how they would approach the challenges that only a president can decide. It was the stunning contrast in personal behavior, not their answers, that was most revealing.

Given the time spent on the economic crisis, Jim Lehrer had time for only five "lead" questions on national security--on Iraq, Afghanistan, Iran, Russia, and homeland security. Other major issues will have to await later debates. But there was enough time for many intense and revealing exchanges. With a command of both the facts and the underlying issues, and a reassuring manner, Obama convincingly passed the key test of the debate--is he qualified to be Commander-in-Chief? But the real insights came in the revelations about the way each man thinks under pressure, and the way they interacted.

First, note a recurring pattern: With the exception of Iraq, where the disagreement began with Obama's opening sentence, Obama usually began by laying out broad themes, often mentioning instances of agreement with McCain--frequently using phrases like "John is absolutely right"--before going on to stress their differences. This is unusual, and part of what makes Obama a unique leader; I do not recall any previous major party candidate in a debate volunteering so many instances of common ground with his opponent. McCain's response struck me as odd and even ungracious; he has often proclaimed he would work across the partisan divide, but he undermined his own claim by completely ignoring Obama and his comments. Instead, he attacked Obama repeatedly, using phrases such as "Senator Obama just doesn't understand. . ." at least ten times.

The manner in which each man approached problems was strikingly different. McCain understandably emphasized his own personal experiences, but almost never made clear what he thought was the larger purpose of policy. Each problem was treated on its own, and McCain's proposed policies were invariably confrontational. John McCain's world focuses almost entirely on threats. Obama usually agreed with McCain on the nature of these threats, but his proposals for action were more insightful, sophisticated, and comprehensive, and, unlike McCain's, included the use of diplomatic and economic and moral power.

These striking differences were not simply debate tactics; they highlighted differences between the two men that are in their DNA. One is the product of the brawling traditions of the United States Navy, and survival under unimaginable conditions in a Hanoi prison. John McCain has prevailed in life not by seeking common ground (ironically, the most notable exception was his historic voyages of forgiveness to Vietnam). What has kept him energized (and alive) is his enormously combative style, which he proudly calls "maverick," and his quick, sometimes pre-emptive attacks on opponents. It is not a criticism to say that he is a gambler; he said so himself in his memoirs and in the debate.

Although Barack Obama articulates his positions in a calm, methodical, and understated way, he is clearly just as tough as McCain, or he would never have come this far in life, against unbelievable odds. But he thinks about how to solve problems in a manner much more conducive to successful governance than McCain. While he made clear he is ready to use military force if necessary, his life and career embodies the search for common ground between peoples of different backgrounds, different races, different points of view. During the debate he often emphasized the non-military aspects of American power--including diplomacy backed by American muscle, the restoration of respect for the nation, and the direct link between America's economic strength and its national security.

Astonishingly, McCain had virtually nothing to say on any of these issues--yet these are the tools that must be precisely balanced and deployed with skill if the nation is to regain its leadership position in the world.

This difference was reinforced by the much-noted failure of McCain to look in Obama's direction or address him directly during the debate, and by the grim looks that left many viewers with the impression McCain was just plain angry.

The overall effect was exactly the opposite of what McCain hoped to achieve: Obama showed that he could handle the frontal assaults of an aggressive and seasoned senator-war hero in the very area McCain was perceived to be strongest. Obama offered the larger vision for the nation--and a reassuring sense he would approach issues with the seriousness they required. The gambling, brawling style of John McCain has its attractive side to Americans, but it is not what we need in the White House in these troubled times.

surrealism

2008-09-22T23:49:00.008+08:00

The Persistence of Memory (1931)
Salvador Dali

The Enigma is on a quest to peel through the mysteries of Surrealism and the works of Salvador Dali for her Art course. because his melting clocks enrapture her imagination; from the first time she set her eyes on that monumental sculpture downtown one september night to almost 2 years later, as the same imagery encounters her again.

I was pleasantly surprised to be reminded by the "melting clocks" in The Persistence of Memory that one cool night in 2006 I was roaming Orchard and peering at these sculptures, intrigued by the symbolism which remained thinly veiled to me; it stirred such a curiosity but i lacked the vocabulary to describe it, the language to organize my thoughts, the lens through which i could understand and interpret it as a piece of art. To finally recognize that I was in such close proximity to art that i now know the significance is such a serendipity.

Profile of Time

Alice in Wonderland

Primarily a French movement in the 1920s, Surrealism is more than an art movement, but an entire philosophical movement; a way of feeling, a way of living, a way of loving. Like all movements, threads break off and branch out into different forms, into artists depicting fetishes and perversions, but the spirit of surrealism at its inception was more basic and less particular:

"Si vous aimez l'amour, vous amierez le surrealism." >- André Breton, 1924

Breton once said thatin love it was not happiness he sought, but love itself. It was a statement that expressed the combination of hope and despair that fuelled the movement's unwavering engagement with the theme of love.

“I think of nothing but love. The continual amusement I derive from intellectual pursuits, for which I am always being reproached as it it were a crime, finds its very justification in this singular and unceasing taste for love. For me there is no idea that is not eclipsed by love. It if were up to me, everything opposed to love would be abolished. That is roughly what I mean when I claimed to be an anarchist.”- Louis Aragon, 1924

I am still in the process of being acquitted with my new love. Surrealism. The name even leaves a satisfying aftertaste on my tongue. It seems to put into concrete being the inner world which i have resided in for most of my life, the way i see the world, the way i feel my dulating emotions, and finally now, the way i choose to live.

If Surrealism were a person, it would be a seeker of dreams, the one hopelessly afflicted with wanderlust, with his redeeming factor the courage to give in to his whims and leaving all else behind, pack his bags and go, leaving the constricting world which he knew all his life with his idealistic paradigm intact. Songs and poems to keep his spirit sweet in the lonely days, the fire against conventionality to keep him warm by night.

If Surrealism were to be represented by a single image, i would choose the "melting clock" for the instrumentality of a clock as a time-keeper in this image can only be contrasted with its more ethereal destiny to highlight the futility of time itself. What you thought was the resolute march of time and memory is more fluid and indecisive than you think.

If Surrealism were a song, it would be a lone piano piece by the moonlight, full of the languid sweetness of undying idealism in one movement, and bursting with the gallop of angst against the constricting "real" world it so deplores in another. The contradictions disrupt the synchronization, but it was meant to be 2 entities anyway.

If Surrealism were a lover, it would be one willing to open up his chest and show his pulsating heart to the doubting lover. Gory yes, but such is the unabashed dreaminess yet boldness of Surrealism.

reckless, careless, thoughtless.

2008-09-21T22:21:00.004+08:00

we used the term "dematerialize" alot in art history class to mean moving up into the realm of the spiritual, but its alternative meaning can be lived it out as a degeneration into a state of carelessness, recklessness, thoughtlessness. Feeling responsible and good are no longer burdens, but dematerialized into irritants to a hot and bothered soul. going where the heart dictates and doing what the mind concocts. empty hours creep past and I look on in amazement that I am unfazed. past days blend into a meaningless blur and many faces merging into a moving picture. ceasing to think or to be in tune with higher purposes are such easy endeavours that they suck you in; time starts to trot and gallop. I've no desire to be responsible for anyone's life, and perhaps, not even my own.

and yes, i got my new ipod nanochromatic.

toeing the line

2008-09-18T21:19:00.004+08:00

Just a little detox from technology and email can leave me disorientated and a tad disconnected. It's as if i overslept and awake to find that it's mid-spring and the first dew and first breathe of fresh air has been enjoyed by the world and I've since lost out on that utility. See, a modern woman attempts to return to her rustic roots but is still constrained to think in deep-set utilitarian fashion. why should it matter that i have half the spring left when there is summer to look forward to. rest days are good. I appreciate just drifting into and out of sleep and consciousness on a hot afternoon in the comfort of my abode. human rights and non-violence fill my thoughts these days and i feel fulfilled in learning more about a subject i so instinctively gravitate towards but never found the motivation to know it as more than a familiar silhouette. Now it's taking form and i'm excited of how knowing it better will push me upwards, towards a higher calling as a crusader. in which area and for what issue i don't know. but i know i have to be a voice amidst the chaos.

Other issues dominated my thoughts as well. it was a little shocking to find that my suspicions of my presence evoking averted gazes and stumbling words was true. I was a little afraid that someone else would notice it, but I guess everyone was too frantically taking notes which i should be thankful for. once again, the tempest rages and i am shocked to find myself toeing the line between staying within friendly grounds and venturing into the wild. There is such a wild African lion residing in me that i'm afraid of one day releasing it that it'll be completely untame-able. roars.

Homer, Aristotle, Alexander

2008-09-16T11:49:00.005+08:00

Rembrandt,
Aristotle Contemplating the Bust of Homer
Metropolitan Museum of Art, NY

portraying an inner meaning

The idea of rhetoric is that an orator speaks in public to an audience, but with Rembrandt one does not sense that the painting is a highly public statement. When John Stuart Mill wrote in the early 19th century that "eloquence is to be heard, poetry is to be overheard", he might almost have had Rembrandt's paintings in mind. We seem to happen upon an event and eavesdrop a little, observing something private and confidential. The painting has long carried a title that identifies the bearded man in floppy hat with gold chain slung from shoulder to hip, as the Greek philosopher Artistotle, who greatly admired the blind poet Homer. The face on the medallion hanging from his chain is Alexander the Great, Aristotle most famous pupil.

excerpted from Baroque & Rococo, Vernon Hyde Minor

I was first drawn to this painting because of the mystical dialogue between the eyes of Aristotle and the un-seeing Homer. Not to mention the fact that the painting was wrong in every sense of the word, with Aristotle in an ostentatious outfit and gaudy gold chain around him. Undoubtedly, Rembrandt was projecting himself in the image of Aristotle; if Aristotle was the philosopher-teacher who lost the favour of Alexander the Great, Rembrandt was the artist who was estranged from his patrons and contemporaries by the time he painted this.

I've a friend who believes all films are just a selfish production of directors, but i believe the beauty of art laid in the very roots of self absorption in a private world projected to a larger existence, be it films, paintings, writings, sculptures. Art has always been a private love affair of the artist and his creation, and great works of art merely love affairs made public.If you watch a romantic movie and swoon, you are but a voyeur in the literal sense, caught up in the romance that is of someone else's concotion, but it is art, because it appeals to universal emotions that cut across time, space and era. And this painting does precisely that, except that the time, space and era has been laid out literally, so in-your-face that anyone who knows Aristotle, Homer and Alexander will be amused.

rants.

2008-09-16T00:06:00.004+08:00

the tension between having things her way and believing in my judgment that it shouldn't have to be that ONLY way characterized the conclusion of a double birthday celebration this evening. We didn't talk over it but I overheard complaining that she was the one ra-raing people and is always frustrated when things don't go according to her plan.

The story goes that I was supposed to lead Part B of a birthday surprise by sneaking into J's apartment to decorate it. Watching the hours go by and with no one being able to confirm whether they will indeed raid J's apartment, I made the decision to call the house party off, so that we might hold the destiny in our hands instead of the whims of the stars, and bring the party to where the birthday girl was.

Although my plan worked out more than fine, I was intensely frustrated by the fact that I was given a task to execute and not the flexibility to alter it for a better and more controllable outcome. Maybe cox both me and her have an overwhelming sense of responsibility to tasks we have to do and in that process inevitably have to step on each other's toes alot.

*

On this note, I noticed in a fair number of my friends a certain impervious-ness to comments, suggestions, last-minute flexibility. Set in their mode of thinking of how things to be done, they get easily frustrated when things don't go according to what they envision to be, if only temporally. Yet, they refuse to (or can't) see how what they conceive of as the "best laid plan" is really impractical and exists only in their ideal conception. Why can't they just see that suggestions are really opportunities for positive improvements? Why do they necessarily think that they are just inconvenient impediments to the execution of their grandiose plans? I am not saying I don't have my stubborn episodes. But to have that built-in as an auto-mechanism does test my patience. And like what Therie and I talked about today, patience is something i realise i have to learn as well. we all have our character flaws and as iron sharpens iron, so does one man sharpen another.

*

rants aside, today is a fine day.

I love to be giving my presentation on the Renaissance and Baroque, exchanging small talk with the other presenters, standing there on the podium and analyzing the figure of David. I love to satisfy my grandiose love of the arts, to bask in the feeling of being transported to Rome and Greece intellectually. I love to complete a quiz in fractions of minutes and translate what I learn into words and grades. I love to be handed a copy of essay questions as i mentally mark off the various deadlines that i might embark on my assignment early.

I love to be walking through the bazaar and to have someone hand me a free bound book of poetry. I love to be entering the Central Library with the gust of cold dry air greeting an overly zealous me with my too-elevated body temperature. I love to be talking a tad too loudly and a tad too animately as I gush to a friend like a bubbling brook. I love to be bumping into random people as i cruise down the corridors and weave through the mass of lunch crowd.I love to be sitting alone at a table at The Deck with the chattering as my background music as i sat there for an hour reading politics of non-violence.

i love to have time to hangout with various friends over the course of a day, starting with late lunch with Tzing, later lunch with Therie, hanging out with Tim, conspiring with the Nav gang. I treasure these spontaneous moments where i can take charge of my time and attention without the rigidites of worklife that will eventually consume me when I end my undergraduate life. I grew up wanting to be in my 20s and in university. I'm living out my dream. it feels surreal and happy each day to be in school doing what i'm doing.

the question is, what next? but perhaps there's too early a question.
i'd better start dreaming first.