a piece of starcrust

Finding the roots

2012-01-21T23:44:00.000-08:00

While on the way back from a morning jog with my mom, we stopped by a coffee shop to have some fishball noodles for breakfast. What transpired during the breakfast was a little history about my mom's family and how they arrived here Southeast Asia from China.

My grandpa arrived in Malacca in the early 1910s during the First World War. There were riots in China where my grandpa was from (my mom can't recall the name of the town in Mandarin) and his family was looking for a way to escape to Nanyang - Southeast Asia in Chinese. They did not have enough money to buy boat tickets and as a last resort, they gave away my grandpa's youngest brother to a rich family in return for boat tickets. After the agreement was made, my grandpa's youngest brother was brought to another family without his knowledge, and the rest of the family journeyed down South.

Their boat arrived in Malacca, a port town south of the Peninsula Malaysia. In the beginning, my grandpa worked in rubber plantations as a living. Shortly after the war ended, my great-grandmother decided that it was time for my grandpa to find a wife. After looking at a few young women's photographs, my great-grandma selected my grandma to be her daughter-in-law, and my grandma was soon on her journey to meet her future husband in Malacca.

While working in the rubber plantations one day, my grandpa's younger brother accidentally killed a man while felling the trees. In a moment of panic, the entire family uprooted and moved to Penang, an island northwest of Malaysia. And that is where they eventually settled down, having children and more grandchildren.

I don't have much memories of my grandpa who passed away when I was very little. However, I do have fond memories of my grandma who was kind and compassionate. A devout Buddhist, she was always seen carrying a string of Buddhist pearls and chanting away. Her favourite outfit was the samfu, a matching flowery top with trousers. She was a healthy old lady and spoke with a musical-like accent in Teochew.

I guess I'll never find out what really happened in my grandparents' time. Even my mom said that what she knew was told to her by my grandpa, never verified by my grandma. But I will always cherish these small snippets of history that reminds me of how lucky I am to be born in Singapore and at this time in the history of mankind.

Another year older...

2012-01-20T08:25:00.000-08:00

Perhaps another year wiser? I hope so.

Got a nice surprise package from Mr. It yesterday! It says photos on the customs sticker and I was sure that it was one or two photo frames with pictures of us both, judging from the size of the package. Then, later that night, I waited for him to be online so that I could open the present "live" in front of him. Et voila! It was such a nice surprise that brought me to tears - it was a box of 100 photographs that we had taken together. I don't even remember some of them. Then I felt guilty that I wasn't in the HolyLand with Mr It.

We need to start celebrating birthdays together soon.

Quoteworthy

2011-12-26T06:45:00.000-08:00

Your worst enemy cannot hurt you as much as your own thoughts unguarded.

But once mastered, nothing can help you as much.

Never say never

2011-12-21T07:10:00.000-08:00

I met S for dinner tonight. It was pre-arranged a week ago via text and the last time I saw him, I was still undergoing treatment and hairless. So naturally I was quite looking forward to the meeting, since we would have quite a bit to catch up on.

S and I knew each other back in London, when we were both single, through friends of friends. It's not that we have great chemistry or that we naturally click but somehow we managed to stay in touch for many years. At one point we were meeting up every Saturday after my French class and his Spanish class, talking about our lives, the bad dates we went on and any relationship troubles (mostly his). Just like that, we kept our friendship going. He was a big Credence Clearwater Revival fan and his birthday falls on the 29th February. You can say that he's an old soul, he still digs Bruce Springsteen up till today.

When I saw him sitting at the table by himself, I was reminded of how good looking he was. His carefree blonde hair and pale freckles that peppered his face and arms. We said hello quickly and after a few minutes, got over the initial awkwardness and dived into updating each other with our lives (and I also got used to his Northern Irish accent). It has been a year ago since we met and he has been in Singapore all this while and completed his MBA. I, on the other hand, have completed my cancer treatment. I've also asked along another friend, hoping that some kind of potential romance could emerge.

In the short two hours we met, we spoke again of our relationships and once again of his uncanny experiences with hysterical women. If you told me three years ago that S and I would be having dinner along Clarke Quay in Singapore, I would have laughed out loud in your face. Life really is a strange beast isn't it? You never know what is waiting for you around the corner.

We finished the night early as he had another party to hop to. As we said our goodbyes, I had an overwhelming of the unpredictability of life. Of course we said would meet up in the following year and stay in touch but meanwhile, who really knows what life would bring in the next few months?

Fear

2011-12-19T08:13:00.000-08:00

"Fear is the great thief of time. For cancer patients, one thing they want is to have more time, and fear just devours that." - Kriss Carr

The seed of contempt

2011-12-15T02:14:00.000-08:00

These two weeks I have been thinking about relationships and marriages. Partly because my good friend Dubi is writing a special article on the big "D" - divorces, and another of my good friend, Xiao is also doing her own research on marriages, in preparation of her own.

What Dubi shared with me from her numerous interviews was that divorces normally happen after an accumulation of unhappiness which often stem from trivial incidents as "He doesn't like me to take my baths after I come back from work". Sounds shocking doesn't it? What happened to the age old give-and-take or treat your spouse with the respect of a guest? It seems that if one is not able to accept or let go of any misgivings that the spouse has done, the accumulation effect will end up in a big explosion one day that leaves you to wonder, "where did that come from?" The answer to that is, it came from that small seed of contempt in your head, and it just grew exponentially into this disproportionate ugly thing.

So the moral of the story? Don't be anal and in spite of all things that happen, learn to remember that your spouse and you form an unity, one that must transcend beyond the "fairness" of who is right and wrong.

In transit

2011-12-04T04:26:00.001-08:00

It's been a while! Well, not exactly a while but a whole one and a half years.

It was a storm and I had to hold tight to my ship, and focus, focus, focus. Now the storm has subsided and I'm rebuilding my ship...it's not easy but everyday I am trying. Some days are good, some days are bad. But most days are okay.

In the meantime that I've been away, I've started something else, for a life elsewhere. Let's see how things go from here, or there.

One Train May Hide Another

2010-03-11T04:35:00.000-08:00

One train may hide another
One incident may hide another
One illness may hide another
One dream may hide another

A poem for my hiatus.

Adventures in Space and Beyond...

2010-03-01T02:27:00.001-08:00

Time past quickly the last week because Mr. It was in town! :)

The Queen

2010-02-12T06:54:00.000-08:00

Itay texted me two nights ago about Alexander McQueen's death. I was devastated.

Someone so talented, so rare and who brought so much delight and inspiration to anyone who is interested in fashion, form and what he is best at, conceptualization. I spent tonight watching his fashion videos, and felt the deep regret that we will not see another McQueen show ever again.

Rest in peace, genius.

Spring cleaning!

2010-02-07T06:24:00.000-08:00

The surprises you find while spring cleaning.

(and how the hell a newspaper clipping on Israel?!)

[Top: Beck's Odelay in cassette tape, Bottom: Newspaper clipping from June, 1994]

It's a new life!

2010-02-02T22:41:00.000-08:00

Whilst tidying up my hard drive, I found this picture with me, S and her new baby (well, not so new now...)

S and I were colleagues in London. For three years, we sat next to each other, had lots of fun and also braved through some stormy weather. Together we shared our unfufilled dreams, our joys and our dream-like aspirations. She was a dear friend, one whom I deeply trusted and enjoyed being with.

Now she is a mommy, and I am sure she will be a kick-ass mom. You go, S!

Beginnings

2010-02-02T22:15:00.000-08:00

Back in Singapore, not yet ready to begin life anew.

This is a major pause in my life, I am waiting.
Waiting for someone to arrive, waiting for myself to leave.
Did someone say before, if you wanna do something, do it quickly before you change your mind?
Everyday I fight that fear of changing my mind... the fear of slipping back into comfort zone, the fear of the other unknown world.

I have not been reading nor listening to music for the past half a year, due to the constraints of travelling.
Now, in a critical crossroad of my life, I am searching for music to inspire and soothe me.
Something which hopefully will bring some optimism and passion back into my life.

Uniformity in Disguise

2010-01-31T03:59:00.000-08:00

Returning back to Singapore always gave me a pair of fresh eyes for a week or two, before I slip back into my old and comfortable ways where living overseas is a distant and faint memory.

So before I forget all about my observations, I decided to pen them down. Yesterday, good friend NeonAngel and me met up in Maxwell Market, planning to spend our afternoon sketching. After the yummy lunch (braised duck with kuay tiao), NeonAngel decided to give me a quick tour of the changes which happened near the market in the years that I have been away. So we walked.

Many Singaporeans are now starting up their own retail business, and self-publishing seems to be the trend here. It is refreshing to see a younger generation embracing entreprenuership based on their interest, chasing their dreams.

Yet, of the 'cool' and new shops we visited, one thing that struck me was how incredibly similar they were. It seems that every one of these shops formed a pact to sell vintage Singaporean memorabilia like erasers, sharpeners, toys as well as vintage cameras which had to be on display, just in case someone did not notice that "we are cool and sell vintage cameras too". I was genuinely interested to see the first shop, but after the second, the third... I was tired of it all. Every shop had a formula which was similar to the one before. Vintage. Style. etc. etc. Instead of striving to be different, it seems that these shops felt good to be safe and the same as the other hip shop. Tragic?

Pamplamoose

2010-01-21T19:26:00.001-08:00

A band which I find myself listening to these days...

Love from Holyland

2010-01-18T01:57:00.000-08:00

Flowers from Itay for my birthday.

Grey Gardens

2010-01-17T21:52:00.000-08:00

A month ago, while still in Peru, I came across a television movie which I realised later was a recent HBO effort called Grey Gardens.

Starring Jessica Lange and Drew Barrymore, Grey Gardens was a wonderful movie, with a tender, sympathetic side to the main characters. It narrates the story of two cousins of Jackie Onassis who were living in isolation in East Hampton, until a filmmaker made a film of their derelict condition.

If you haven't seen it, go catch it! It is amazingly captured, and really beautiful. And yes, Drew Barrymore deserved that Golden Globe! She rocked!

http://www.hbo.com/films/greygardens/

Feliz Neuva Año!

2009-12-31T14:45:00.000-08:00

I can't believe it... 2009 is almost over, well in Peruvian time.

From starting the year in the Holy Land with new hopes and dreams, 2009 turned out in so many ways unexpected. From quitting my job to flying halfway across the world to volunteer in Peru, 2009 was definitely challenging. Meanwhile, I have met lots of people and said many goodbyes. Life took on another dimension, I see relationships more clearly now, and hopefully, with all the challenges that I took on, I can say to myself that it has been a very good year indeed.

Nothing went according to plan, for the first time in my life I did not have a job to rely on. And God knows how I rely on my job to give me pride, satisfaction and sometimes an identity. By throwing all that away, I learnt how to redefine myself and my path in life. Certainly not by sitting behind a computer screen and designing architecture, no matter how grand it is.

I am thankful for all the choices that I had to make in the past year. Not all of them are easy (e.g. packing things into Israel or Singapore boxes, for that matter, moving to Israel next year) and I know there are many more difficult ones that lie ahead. I hope to keep my head level and to go through next year with firm footsteps, hand in hand with him.

A very happy new year to all :)

Jesus de Narzeth

2009-12-08T19:34:00.000-08:00

It has been a long time since I updated this blog...apologies to the 3 people who read my blog...

It has been two weeks since we finished the Bamboo House. From the beginning of this week, I have been working at a site named Jesus de Narzeth. It is a rather interesting project...with a very long story too. Basically, there are sixty families squatting at the current site. Most of their houses are made of leftover timber, woven bamboo walls with plastic sheets on the inside. After two years of squatting, the legal landowner has asked them to move into proper lots according to a plan drawn up by an engineer from Lima. After the move, these people can start paying ¨mortgage¨for their land and no longer be squatters.

What this simply means, is that sixty families squatting at a site has to move into ¨proper¨lots. We had two meetings with the community leader, Senora Carmen, a lady in her fifties about how PSF can help with the moving. Senora Carmen, adamnant about getting the community to move and settle in by Christmas, decided that the entire community will take down all their homes, and sleep in tents so that the engineer can go ahead and mark the site without any mistakes. After two hours of heated discussions, we decided to let the community do what they want and we will do whatever we can to help.

We started the first day by helping to clear some houses. The living conditions of the people are extremely poor. Houses are made of leftover timber or bamboo and covered with plastic canvases. Compacted earth is the substitute of a floor and there are hardly any windows for fresh air. While clearing up a lady´s house, the layers of dust and dirt that her family has been living in was unimaginable. Food that has fallen from plates stuck to the dirt on the floor, plastic sheets used to shelter the wind covered in dust and the stale air trapped in the small dwelling. Dismantling the place was depressing.

The more I worked in Pisco, the more questions I have about self-respect and poverty. Someone told me a few days ago that poverty is relative. What I saw in Pisco may be considered good compared to some people living in remote places where living conditions are worse. I see children rolling in mud and throwing rubbish and peeing just outside their door-steps because nobody told them it is not the right thing to do. But what is the right thing to do? Is there a right thing to do, if you are already in the dumps?

The more I see, the more I cannot comprehend. Maybe it is just a different version of reality that I am so used to that I forget that a different reality exists.

Pisco, Peru

2009-10-02T05:04:00.000-07:00

We have finally left London. It has only been a week but London seems a world away.

For updates on our life now in Pisco, Peru, click here.

Adieux

2009-09-15T16:12:00.000-07:00

天下没有不散的宴席

Saying goodbye is not easy. After spending three and a half years in London, I have grown attached to more friends than I realize myself, and saying goodbye is more difficult than I have imagined.

In the past week, we threw a goodbye party, met many friends and were invited to numerous goodbye dinners. At the end of each gathering, it was difficult to say goodbye. To some friends, I was reduced to tears. When will we ever again? We don't know but we hope some day we will.

Such is life, isn't it? London was like a stopover for many of us. We were at the same place at the same time, and I found so much joy and comfort in many of the friendships that I have made. Friendships which are different from friendships from home or from schoool. Friendships that are based on a common thread: that we are all strangers in a foreign land, away from familiarity and in the process of finding ourselves in this cosmopolitan city: a process brutally cut short by an abstract failure in the financial market. People moved away, friendships stretched beyond continents, endings and even more beginnings.

As we send our first batch of boxes away this morning to Israel, reality starts to creep in. Nothing lasts for a lifetime. Not the bad times, and even more so, good times seem to pass even quicker.

London, I shall miss you.

αντίο

2009-09-09T01:53:00.000-07:00

A lovely day spent with Panos having Dim Sum and shopping at Selfridges. I hope to beat him at French one day.

收拾心情

2009-09-08T08:35:00.000-07:00

This week marks the beginning of packing (according to my P.O.A.)

Packing always intimidates me, simply because I am a sentimental collector. I collect all things, bits of paper, postcards, brochures, cards, newspaper cuttings.... basically EVERYTHING. What makes it worse is I tend to look over them and be nostalgic. Hardly an efficient packer at all.

To pack something in a box is to acknowledge its value to you and how you would like it to be with you at your next destination. This time round, I have to pack for "Singapore" and "Israel". "Home" vs "Trial home-to-be". Very tough decisions there.

I guess the idea of not returning to London in the near future has not really sunken in yet. As I pack, I remember a Chinese phrase to describe preparing a state of mind in order to move on.

That is what I will be doing over the next two weeks.

Arigato

2009-09-08T01:38:00.000-07:00

Arigato to Sachiko at Southbank where we watched planes making their way to Heathrow Airport.

Three of us worked in the same office in London, although none of us are there anymore (and we are all real glad about it). We shared some really good times together in and out of the office. I shall always remember Sachi's stories of strange mucus and Japanese family soap opera.

Date set. America del Sur.

2009-09-04T11:14:00.001-07:00

It's decided.

We finally bought our air tickets to Peru yesterday, after going through rounds of checking and calling the Peruvian Embassy to check on visas. But, yes, it's all done now, and we are definitely flying out! *Point of no return*

----

Last night I had a weird dream. Maybe it was weird because I was out with Tiger, HL and Ling, drinking too much and generally having a good time. I dreamt of telling someone (whoever it was I don't remember):

"Our eventual destinations are all the same, i.e. Death. But it's up to us to choose the route to the destination."

How weird.

----

"What will you miss most about London?"

"......"

"I think I will miss earning & spending pounds the most."

----

Tori Amos concert next week! Hooray - and Mr. It's coming too! :)

Blissed out

2009-08-31T03:04:00.001-07:00

Yesterday Mr. It and I went to a one-day festival, Get Loaded in the Park in Clapham Common, South London.

Considered "short" in a caucasian land, most of the time I was not able to see the acts on stage, or maybe just a glimpse through a slit between two heads... Without being asked, Mr. It made me climb on his shoulders and I swear I was the happiest short girl in the crowd.

So this is what Bliss feels like :)

Time is the best medication

2009-08-26T12:39:00.001-07:00

One year ago, I received an email from my ex-flatmate, with not so kind words insinuating that I was kind of a bully and that she has an issue with me. After receiving the distressing email, I was in shock and very angry. I was basically accused of something which I never did, and not even "the bullied one" knew what she was talking about.

One year has passed, and I honestly think it was a blessing in disguise. I learnt that it is important, at all costs, to protect your sanity, even if it means scarring the face of any amiable surface friendship, within the same circle of friends or whatever.

I learnt that not everyone will like you, nor do you have to like everyone else, and that there is absolutely nothing wrong with that. Something which should have been taught at elementary school - yes, we should all get along well but not if it costs you your sanity.

I witnessed the horrors of the by-stander. People around who might know of the situation but are indifferent, or who would convince you to think that it is you who might be in the wrong and should compromise. Admist all that, I was lucky to find two voices in London who stuck with me, together with my childhood friends back in Singapore.

It's been a year, and looking back I feel so thankful.

If not for this, I would never have understood the meaning of true friends and sanity. And if your friends are for real, they will fight for your sanity :)

Voyeur

2009-08-23T15:19:00.001-07:00

While walking home during an afternoon, Mr. It and I found a plastic bag of really beautiful black and white photos dumped next to the dustbin.

We took the photos home, and went through the photos which were, seriously, amazing work. Some photographer who is living in london must have dumped these but to us, they were really good stuff. It almost feels like looking through someone's diary while going through these hundreds of pictures. Some were hauntingly beautiful, others were quirky and there were a few historical ones as well, such as marking the last ride of the routemaster no. 38 in Dalston.

Cool.

Another post on Olivetti...

2009-08-22T05:14:00.000-07:00

courtesy of Mr. It :)

And she types...

2009-08-19T03:46:00.000-07:00

Finally found the courage to get an Olivetti Lettera 22. Designed by Marcello Nizzoli in 1950, this tiny machine is designed to be a portable mechanical typewriter.

It feels weird to type on heavy keys at first but I am soon bowled over by the font, the sounds and the feel of the whole machine, not to mention the delicious colour too! *happiness*

Voila! The Turqoise Beauty!

Lovely colour juxtaposition

Old school fractions

It's actually got Scottish roots

Array

The soloist

A symphony

Precision

The Lettera 22!

Sudoku success

2009-08-15T06:37:00.000-07:00

1st ever attempt. 15.08.09, 2.30pm. *yeah!*

Happy Birthday, Dubi!

2009-08-12T14:37:00.000-07:00

Today is Dubi's birthday.

Dubi & I have been friends since we first met at SNGS's badminton court. I didn't like her very much then, and I didn't think she did either. By a strange twist of fate, we ended up being badminton doubles partners for two years. We spent many Saturday afternoons training in the school hall, and many Saturday evenings after training, pigging out at the Ang Mo Kio Centre hawker centers. Although we were hot-headed and have many arguments before, we were good partners. I played the role of the attacker, and Dubi the defender. She sets up the scene and I go in for the kill. Just like that, we fought many battles on court together. Point by point, we were side by side, victory or not.

That was 20 years ago (!), when our bodies were still in the prime and exercising was not really a chore by any standards..

Now, we hardly play badminton together anymore (it's a little difficult when we're twelve hours apart), and if we ever get to play, our bodies protest in the worst aches ever the following day. From a double-act partner, Dubi has become my conscience, my confidante and very best friend who will not hesitate to tell me what she thinks in all honesty. The kind of honesty that most people will not bother with as that would probably jeopardise the friendship. Also, the kind of honesty that sometimes you wished you did not have to face up to. At the same time, it is also because of that honesty that I always feel safe and relaxed around her, knowing that I cannot possibly pretend to be a better person in her presence (since she knows what a biatch I am anyways...)

Happy Birthday, Dubi! To your health, and lots of joy always.
From your good friend, the pig.

Nature as nature

2009-08-10T09:16:00.000-07:00

We went to Richard Long's Heaven and Earth exhibition at Tate Britain last week and I was blown away by the sensitivity and rigour in Mr. Long's works. Using nature as the base of the art work he creates, he fuses art, nature and text in a very personal and unpretentious manner which makes it easy to understand, yet nonetheless beautiful.

Having spent sometime in the French mountains three weeks ago, I am really inspired to see someone making art out of something as simple as a walk in the woods!

Count on Me...

2009-08-09T09:01:00.000-07:00

For Singapore's birthday this year, Mr. It decked on a patriotic T-shirt and we deep-fried some Ma Ling luncheon meat for my childhood nostalgia's sake. (All this happened because I read about luncheon meat here and couldn't stop thinking about it!)

Summer!

2009-07-31T04:06:00.001-07:00

It's been a long 3 weeks break, and finally we're back in London.

It first started with a colleague's suggestion of meeting up in Berlin for a weekend and then it rolled on to become a visit to Berlin, drop by the Swiss Alps for Tour de France and a general vacation in South of France to wrap it up. Also, it coincided with Mr. It's 20th year in following the Tour de France (yes, I'm shocked too).

So what did I see in the 3 weeks that I was away? Plenty.

In Berlin, We met friends and caught up with the happenings in their lives; I met two friends of Mr. It who were absolutely lovely, and I met with B who has sadly moved back to Berlin but starting a new and exciting phase in life; we visited D in her animation studio and learnt about stop-motion animation behind the scenes; we saw a tower built for Albert Einstein; I learnt about the history of Jews in Germany.

I am a first-timer in Berlin. Never been but heard loads about it. How cool & exciting etc. For a huge city, Berlin is much more relaxed than London and New York. People are relaxed, not easily ruffled and generally not very emotional nor expressive. J said the attitude of the people generally makes the city quite relaxed, and another J said that Berliners are generally 'cooler' in all respects. I didn't sense any of the superficial prentence of the east-end Londoners, and from what an insider tells me, the trick is to look cool without looking that they've tried too hard. Clever.

From Berlin, we flew to Saarbrucken and made our way to Metz to collect our travelling companion for 2 weeks, Twingo. We were going to camp around in Lorraine, before making our way to Strasbourgh, Alsace - to watch the Tour de France.

The freedom of a driving & camping holiday is new to me, and I totally loved it. Also it helped that Mr. It is a very experienced driver - although there were times that I feared for both our lives. We made our way through the mountains up to the Grand Ballon in Vosges, the Swiss Alps near Gruyere, along Lac Leman at Lausanne, through the roads up in Mount Jura and along the River Ain, up across Mont Ventoux at Vaucluse and through the lavender fields in Provence. We had the company of both amateur and aspiring cyclists, Tour de France fans in waiting, the mountains and the valleys. The scenery often alternates between winding roads, bursting out into a beautiful view of the valleys and gorges, with a few cyclists whizzing or struggling by and quaint little French towns with no one in sight.

We saw many cyclists along our way to the mountains. Mr. It explained to me that a lot of amateur cyclists often try the Tour de France routes before the race just for the experience. He also managed to convince me that cycling to the top of a mountain is achievable by anyone's standards, especially when we saw old grandpas struggling up the hills, often with another partner either ahead or behind them; or families going for bike rides together. Everyone travels at their own pace and they meet up at the summit for a good pint. The point of it? To conquer a mountain, to conquer nature, just like running was to conquer yourself. Nice. To add to the mood of the Tour, Mr. It never fails to do an air-punch when he sees another cyclist along the route, shouting "Allez!" More often than not, the cyclists return a smile despite their tired faces.

This trip is a lot less planned than my usual holidays. Maybe it is because we are going for a driving holiday, the timing and schedule does not really matter. Also, it was my chance of holidaying ala "Mr. It's style", i.e. we'll plan along the way. This trip ended being the "least planned" by my standards, and "most planned" by Mr It's. We had a few squabbles along the way but none detrimenting. I realised the importance of trust and communication, to really communicate without fear of being judged and to trust your partner's gut feeling.

Almost a few days into the trip, I was tired of going into cities. Instead of wanting to stay in a designer hotel, or to check out a cool-Time-Out-recommended restaurant, I preferred to be in the tent with the mountains at the door when I step out in the morning, and go to the simple restaurant (if they are ever open!) in the village with no pretence nor tourist trap devices. When morning breaks, we get woken up by the sunlight and the heat built-up in the tent. When night falls, we go to sleep with the sounds of the surroundings. It was a simple routine. At the end of the trip, I realised how little I need to survive and how almost half my toileteries back home are just surplus of a probable non-existent need.

It was a summer trip of inspiration and liberation. Like dipping into the waters of the numerous lakes on our way, I feel refresh, awake and cooled.

En vacances!

2009-07-06T14:49:00.001-07:00

Off to Berlin for a week, some Tour de France action in Switzerland (to celebrate Mr. It's 20th anniversary of following Le Tour , and finally camping in France! (finally, some practice on my dusty elementary French...)

Allez!

photo credit: http://cultblender.wordpress.com/2008/07/

The Queue & the heat

2009-06-30T11:24:00.000-07:00

A little pictorial story of how I managed to pull myself to not one, but two Wimbledon days.

Not sure if it is worth it but the experience was rather traumatic, I must say.

I can now tell people, yes I queued at Wimbledon 2009.

(click on the strawberry for the run-down)

Choose your poison

2009-06-22T11:21:00.000-07:00

Back from Dublin.

Decided that Dublin is not a very attractive city, and I do not like Guinness. Even though it does taste different in the Guinness Factory, I vote for my favourite drink, whiskey! :)

Photos from a lassez-faire trip here

Il est difficile

2009-06-16T03:15:00.000-07:00

Here I am, lying in bed and trying to figure out how I should go on about today.

Being free and idle is not as easy as I thought. Somehow there is an immense guilt when I am not engaged in something productive or creative. I wonder how did this idea come about. Who put this thought in my head, what did society do to me that I can't even bear to relax or waste time without any guilty feelings.

There are days when I feel really productive and on the go. And there are days where I just cannot resist the temptation of exponentially just surfing the net, clicking on links after links and reading every piece of information as if it would make a difference to my life.

At times like that, I decide the internet is evil.

At other times, I decide that the internet brings me new ideas.

Today, I woke up and had a good coffee (courtesy of Mr. It), and straight away changed into un-pj clothes and read an article which I picked up from the gallery that I went last week with Sachiko. It was 10am and my mind was really absorbing the ideas quickly, asking questions and imagining possibilities. It was good, until I opened up my Inbox/ Facebook etc., and then I strayed a little... reading news and what people have posted on the net.

More focus, less distraction.

The experiment continues...

The Master

2009-06-12T06:50:00.001-07:00

Such an inspiration.

Alexander McQueen

The Joy of Less

2009-06-09T08:44:00.000-07:00

An article by Pico Iyer.

The Joy of Less

Let's call it quits

2009-06-06T03:06:00.000-07:00

It's here, finally.

The last day at work proved to be a lot more stressful than I thought. Had to finish some work, and at the same time print out CVs, portfolio and saving work into the brick-size Maxtor hard drive.

Had to turn down a lunch invite from the mob crew who went to ChaChaMoon for some asian noodle fare... I was too stressed for my own leaving lunch! How sad!

At 5.10pm, I started writing emails to everyone to bid goodbye. I have imagined this scene many times over in my head but I got more emotional than I thought when I was typing the goodbye message. The email was short, thanking the people who have made a difference in my stay in the office. The office was commercial, works are not particularly inspiring but the people were at least friendly... Honestly I think I out-stayed in the present office and got lazy.

When I got to the 'To:' list, there were so few people that I would want to send the email to (most of my friends have been made redundant by now), that it seems almost like a small private party. Oh well, I guess when you don't see a future at a place, there's not much point hanging around then.

So, as of now, L2P is officially free.

Welcome again to the big wide world.

Reassuarance

2009-06-04T04:34:00.000-07:00

"Wow...it's very exciting for you - first time not in a constrained envivonment :) where I'm from, people do this when they're in the early 20s, so it's about time... You'll have much fun. Find out things about yourself, taste another life."

Thank you, Mr. It.

No Barriers

2009-05-30T03:02:00.000-07:00

A lovely day at the Thames Barrier Park.

My first carrot cake!

2009-05-18T03:43:00.000-07:00

My first ever carrot cake, for S, my companion at work for 2.5 years!

Happy birthday, S!

Inspiration

2009-05-16T04:49:00.001-07:00

With 3 weeks left to stopping work, I am a ball of mixed feelings.

On one hand, I am extremely relieved to leave the office which provides me with zero inspiration. On the other hand, I am worried about a lack of constant income which will have an effect on my consumerist lifestyle inherited from my life in Singapore. But most of all, I think I am excited about the possibilities which lie ahead of me which could either bring me to places, or just accumulate into a big waste of time.

While waiting for this "change" to happen, I am forced to think about what I want to do in my life for the first time. I guess I never really thought out of the box. It was school, holiday then work. And then work, work, work and once in a while holiday. Somehow along the line, I forgot what gave me joy, why I want to work and how I want to live my life. Work became 'just for the money' and money became 'so I can buy stuff, and have a good lifestyle'.

It's time to re-think what life is about, and stop wasting time chasing after things which I may not necessary want for myself.

I came across the works of Rae Dunn on the etsy website the other day, and found her work to be really charming and from the heart. It was a reminder that work from the heart never ceases to inspire. Hopefully I can find the work which I can put my heart into in the near future.

http://raedunn.blogspot.com/

Brecon Beacons Beckons..

2009-04-24T13:40:00.001-07:00

Easter Friday, 5.55pm.

We were calling every inn and B&B in mid-Wales, and everywhere is full. After the massive passover dinner on Wednesday, Mr. It and I had no time to plan for our Easter holidays. When all seems like a dead end, we received a phonecall from someone who sounded like a grandma. She had a free room because her grandchildren were going back for the weekend. Yippee! A room for us, just at 45 pounds a night!

So we finally made it to Wales!

We had full English (Welsh?) breakfast every morning, had a free ride to the start of our walk from Grandpa Snow, had great food at the only decent restaurant in town, and finally, after walking for 5 hours to the next town, we managed to hitch a hike from lovely the Rachel and Mike on their camper bus, all with a expresso on board.

And with unexpected fantastic weather!

Moorlands in Wales

Happy Birthday, Mr. It!

2009-04-24T13:16:00.000-07:00

It was Mr. it's birthday on Monday.

After thinking about it over many many days, I finally decided to surprise him with a surprise day. It was beautiful weather, and we had a really nice day...

Breakfast was at The Spence www.thespence.co.uk which is a nice little corner bakery at Stoke Newington. The gorgeous smell of bread was really amaaaazing....

After which, we went home for a nap, before proceeding out to enjoy the lovely weather.

Even though the day was filled with numerous phonecalls, they were all phonecalls of well wishes and congratulations from Mr. it's home. How sweet.

Mazel tov, Mr. it!

First bike ride in the city!

2009-03-15T01:18:00.000-07:00

i took me on my first bike ride today!

not bad for a first-timer!

View Larger Map

For the best

2009-02-19T16:21:00.000-08:00

Mr. It told me his dad always says "No matter what happens, it happens for the best".

I have always heard the other version, "No matter what happens, it happens for a reason". And I have to say I prefer i's dad's version.

If something happens simply in order for the next best thing to happen, then we will always take it in our stride, regardless whatever reason it happened for. It just had to happen because it is a stepping stone for the best thing to happen.

For the first time in my life, I feel my life a little out of control. However, with a steady co-captain on the ship, I feel that even the roughest ride at the sea will be for the best.

Wish me luck, my friends.

Life is for sharing

2009-02-07T02:01:00.000-08:00

Only in London

http://www.youtube.com/user/lifesforsharing

Christmas Day musings

2009-01-05T14:38:00.000-08:00

This year for the first time in my 2.5 years in London, I'll be spending Christmas in London. i was going back to Israel for hols, and I was to join him a few days later.

As the entire public tranportation system shuts down on Christmas Day, I was kind of trapped in the flat. Having the entire flat to myself was rather weird, since i was around most of the time when I'm in the flat. On this day where families gather, I was at home, doing random things.

The lack of activity had me reflect on how 2008 has been. I remember starting the year decideing that it would be a year of change (thinking that I would be switching jobs...). Uncannily enough, I think 2008 had been the most surprising year of change ever.

First of all, of course, my relationship with i : from Lunchbuddies to something more. The unexpected call by my landlord to take back the flat; farewell to my flatmates for 2.5 years and my subsequent move into i's flat; realising that I am free, an individual after the move-out; the economic downturn and the effects it had on friends who had to leave the office and the kind of work we're reduced to doing...

I am so happy to have a change of scenery.

The eccentricity of i's flat also reminded me that my dreams are not products of what is found in glossy magazines and taste dictators. No yuppie West London prim and proper all-white interiors. Nah, I thought I wanted that but I think I very much prefer this.

Music: Jeff Buckley
Mood: Tranquil

2008-11-10T13:24:00.001-08:00

When it was still sunny this summer, i+I went to Dover to check out the white chalk cliffs.

We started out sunny, and got lost in the moonlight. Luckily for us, a cabbie stopped for us and we caught the last train back to London...

The Journey Home

2008-11-10T13:05:00.001-08:00

On a Friday night out with i, we drifted into an English pub in the East end which was having its Friday karaoke open mike. It was good fun, as most of the performers are truly in their own world, not regarding how their singing exactly is like. There was Blondie, there was Snow Patrol (sung in an operatic voice by an old Cockney uncle) Frank Sinatra and Abba....the list goes on.

A friend from Norway and I then got excited about singing Billy Joel. Although we didn't manage to get a free slot as it was fully booked, I went home to listen to Billy Joel again.

And I re-discovered this song, which I have probably heard many times but never really read the lyrics

You're My Home

When you look into my eyes
And you see the crazy gypsy in my soul
It always comes as a surprise
When I feel my withered roots begin to grow
Well I never had a place that I could call my very own
That's all right, my love, 'cause you're my home

When you touch my weary head
And you tell me everything will be all right
You say, "Use my body for your bed
And my love will keep you warm throughout the night"
Well I'll never be a stranger and I'll never be alone
Whenever we're together, that's my home

Home can be the Pennsylvania Turnpike
Indiana's early morning dew
High up in the hills of California
Home is just another word for you

Well I never had a place that I could call my very own
That's all right, my love, 'cause you're my home

If I travel all my life
And I never get to stop and settle down
Long as I have you by my side
There's a roof above and good walls all around
You're my castle, you're my cabin and my instant pleasure dome
I need you in my house 'cause you're my home.

You're my home.

After which I went on this YouTube rampage and found more Billy Joel...

Something which I found made me regret a little to have watched, and yet I think personality and sense of humour aside, Billy Joel's music still touches my heart and moves my soul :)

http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=XOPZF_bOKH8

I forgot how I began this post. It's 3 more days before I head home :)

The end of Summer

2008-09-30T14:30:00.000-07:00

It's official, summer's over.

No more endless daylight, no more sitting around in the parks bathing in glorious sunshine. The leaves on trees have all turned to yellow and red, and there is a slight chill in the air and sometimes the wind. Summer 08 has come and gone.

Yet it was a beautiful summer. A summer which I found love and affection so unexpectedly. A summer which made me braver than I thought I could be, a summer which made me laugh like a child and act responsibly as an adult towards someone else. How precious and careful one must be with the fragile heart of another. Things which no one else could teach you but lessons which you have to learn on your own.

While reading through my sporadically updated diary, I found something which I wrote after lunch buddy made his feelings known to me. It was only two months ago but seems to me an eternity ago.

I feel my spirits soar
I walk in lighter steps
I smile at the smallest things
I hear my heart sing
Just because I know he cares

The wait is over

2008-08-04T16:51:00.000-07:00

Honestly, I didn't know he had been feeling the same way for me as well.

This must be the most beautiful summer yet :)

You Don't Know What You've Got Til It's Gone

2008-06-19T16:25:00.000-07:00

Had a lovely time tonight with A, M and HL.

We had dinner at Vinoteca, a small little restaurant near Farringdon Tube station. It's a very small fit out with foldable doors which open out into the street. As it's still summer (well sort of at 20 deg), we were lucky to enjoy the sunlight at a table near the pavement.

It was usual, a good dinner, good wine good food and good company. What was more poignant was A+M's impending move back to Singapore in the next two weeks, and how life will change tremendously for them in the following year.

I find myself missing them even when in conversation. A and I go back a long way, we still are very good friends even though now he's married, and I always think that's a blessing in my life - to always have a good friend of the opposite sex and to have the understanding and friendship of his spouse as well. We dwelled on a topic of what means home to us. Answers were varied but it was clear that some of us were still unclear what the idea of a home is. Dubi's answer (in a separate email) was that home is a state of mind. I am undecided if home is a state of mind or with a person/ a few persons.

Home was never Singapore, home was never family. Home is feeling being accepted and not being questioned or judged about who you are, what you do and how you think. By far I think I feel most at home with my DA friends. Do love/obligation = home? You may love your family but will that be home to you? I don't know. It's a hard one.

Maybe that's why I'm here. Feeling different feels like home.

Today is also the day of a death of another relationship. Could have been so much more but I think I just managed to mess things up. Oh well. Life is too short for this.

time: 1240am
state: after 3 glasses of wine, a roast leg of lamb and a night of brilliant conversation

Poetry, Commotion and Musician

2008-06-04T15:58:00.000-07:00

In the midst of strolling through National Portrait Gallery with LB last Saturday, we stopped at a portrait of Catherine of Braganza. Catherine Henrietta of Braganza from Portugal was married into the monarchy to Charles II in 1662, and was responsible for introducing the culture of drinking tea to England. As I was saying the above, LB burst into a tune...."And she feeds you tea and oranges that come all the way from China..."

And that was how I learnt my first Leonard Cohen song. I can't imagine how I have not come to know the brilliance and genius of Cohen's song writing. Still as they say, never too late.

Managed to find two really good clips of Leonard Cohen and Judy Collins singing together taped in 1976. Like two intertwining threads weaving together a tapestry of the inevitability of pain and love.

Enjoy.

Suzanne -

Suzanne takes you down to her place near the river
You can hear the boats go by
You can spend the night beside her
And you know that she's half crazy
But that's why you want to be there
And she feeds you tea and oranges
That come all the way from China
And just when you mean to tell her
That you have no love to give her
Then she gets you on her wavelength
And she lets the river answer
That you've always been her lover
And you want to travel with her
And you want to travel blind
And you know that she will trust you
For you've touched her perfect body with your mind.

And Jesus was a sailor
When he walked upon the water
And he spent a long time watching
From his lonely wooden tower
And when he knew for certain
Only drowning men could see him
He said "All men will be sailors then
Until the sea shall free them"
But he himself was broken
Long before the sky would open
Forsaken, almost human
He sank beneath your wisdom like a stone
And you want to travel with him
And you want to travel blind
And you think maybe you'll trust him
For he's touched your perfect body with his mind.

Now Suzanne takes your hand
And she leads you to the river
She is wearing rags and feathers
From Salvation Army counters
And the sun pours down like honey
On our lady of the harbour
And she shows you where to look
Among the garbage and the flowers
There are heroes in the seaweed
There are children in the morning
They are leaning out for love
And they will lean that way forever
While Suzanne holds the mirror
And you want to travel with her
And you want to travel blind
And you know that you can trust her
For she's touched your perfect body with her mind.

Suzanne

That's no way to say goodbye

Posessions

2008-05-25T12:36:00.001-07:00

Some of my treasured possessions in my double life in London....

Bedside companions....

"everything stops for tea"....

Feet warmers...

Finger tinkers....

a gift...

May Bank Holiday

2008-05-06T14:16:00.000-07:00

First May bank holiday of 2008.

Lunch buddy mentioned about his friend's house-sitting in her father's country garden house three weeks ago, before I left for Turkey. Cheekily I asked if it was an open invitation - and to my surprise he said I could come along.

Last Saturday, we took a train to Rye from London and were greeted by Lunch Buddy's friends who were already there on Friday evening. The garden house was previously part of an estate, and it was occupied by the gardeners who grew crops for the estate. It was a nice English house with bedrooms converted from stables, and naturally a huge garden. A perfect getaway from the busy city....

We spent our first day there taking a 3 hour walk to Winchelsea beach which is on the Southeast coast of England....we walked through sheepland, crop plantations and an ugly beach road. At the end of 3 hours, we were confronted by a huge slope and thought it was leading to another valley. A and J who were right in the front of the pack walked up the steps and then turned around to give a sign of "YEAH!" Excited by the prospect of seeing the beach, we marched on.

And what a sight it was. It was low tide and the sea was far far away. It must be at least 400m away before you could walk on water, and the sand has already been patternated by the sea that was there before. A vast sandy hue and a warm blue sky with no obstruction in sight. Immediately, we took off our shoes and stepped deliciously onto the damp sand, claiming our reward for a long walk.

I could almost imagine taking a joyride on the beach. Learning how to drive on the wide stretch of sand, swerving uncontrollably and giggling, screaming out of esctasy and excitement.

As we walked on, C decided that she needed to swim. The water was probably 16 deg and there was a cold wind with most of us in our jumpers. C bravely stripped and put on her swimming costume with some of our help. With our cheering, C turned around and did a Bond-girl run to the water. As our thoughts turned to how long she would take to arrive at the water, she stopped and laid flat on the water. Within two seconds, she stood up and ran back, another Bond-worthy moment, with Lunch Buddy holding on to her towel ala a bull fight moment. As she quivered in the cold, C explained why she had to do it. In the Danish tradition, if you took a dip in the sea on the first of May every year, you would have a good summer. C believed it so much that every year, she would dip into the sea without fail so that if she had a crap summer, it would be everyone's fault but hers for spoiling the summer. We all hoped that C's bravery would be adequate for all of us....

Back to the garden house, we lazed around with zen-like indian music and reading in silence while waiting for our stuffed pepper to cook... I picked up Iris Murdoch's The Sea, The Sea and was engulfed by her vivid writing....V brought along a crumple which his mum had made, and we had picked up a good ol' fish and chips for J who has been in England for eight years but never had fish and chips. After dinner, we all adjourned to all corners of the house, to the outside, to breathe in some early summer air...

Winter 08 - Part Two

2008-05-06T13:50:00.000-07:00

It is a bit odd to write about winter now that spring is almost over and now summer is flirting sporadically with us.

When I try to recall the trip to Vals, the image of a white-out keeps reappearing. The silence of the Swiss landscape, the whiteness of the sky and the vast space of the lands. I had a French playlist which I had compiled for the trip and had it playing on loop whilst on the train commuting from a rainy Basel to a snow-capped Zurich. The foreigness of the language added to the foreigness of the landscape. A vast white which I am not familiar with, and yet it felt really comforting and reassuring.

So this is how it feels to grow up in a place with an abundance of land. I felt that my lungs could breathe better, my heart beats slower and my random darting thoughts about meaningless things disappear and my mind gets occupied by a rare serenity. My sense of self reduced to almost infinitesimal amongst the landscape and a peaceful smile comes to my face when the train exits the dark tunnels into a contrast of snow and white skies.

Getting to Vals is not a straight forward process. There were two trains to take and a 2-minute transfer to a bus which went on hair-pin turns around the hills. To get to Thermal Baths, we alighted at the local bus-stop and walked up the hill. When we finally saw the building, it was a old characterless white 2-storey building built in the 60s, nothing spectacular.

The next morning, as I withdrew the translucent curtains to our balcony, I gasped in wonder. The entire window few was white, with many black lines which took me a split second to realise that they were branches to the trees. I could not tell the sky from the hill in front of us. Stepping out onto the balcony, I could hear faints sounds of the wind as it carried the snow flakes across in front of me. It was really beautiful.

I went to the bath at 7am, when the bath is first opened and reserved for the use of hotel guests. As it was a Sunday as well, not many people were in the pool except for a few early birds. The experience was sublime. Although so much has been written about the building, what I found most amazing was that once I was in the building, I did not care about what the architecture was, what the architect did, or what details there were. Instead, I felt so relaxed and one with myself that I hardly noticed the architecture. Instead, the architecture made me aware of where I was and the nature around me.

Later in the night, we had our dinner earlier so we could go for the midnight swim which only occurs on Sunday nights, and it was for hotel guests only. As we approached the entrance to the spa, it read : no speaking. you will notice the difference! Everyone hence went about the spa quitely....

It was the most amazing experience ever. The soft sounds of the water in the baths...the intent lighting with floods of blue and turqoise..sounds of shuffling feet on stone and gentle rowing of the limbs underwater... As if there was a secret and no one could talk about it. Like a huge masquerade party, we gave each other meaningful looks but we didn't engage in any conversations. It was purely to get in tune with your senses....

The outdoor pool was the ultimate experience. Swimming through a small opening in the glazing, the 36 deg celcius water sublimed into steam which formed a thick layer of fog above the turqoise lit water...and beyond that I could only see the stars....

Winter 08 - Part One

2008-03-29T09:54:00.000-07:00

Easter 2008. A trip to Basel, Bern and Vals, finally to see Zumthor's Thermal bath.

An amazing trip. I was glad to have taken another day to see Renzo Piano's Foundation Beyeler and Vitra Museum. Even though there are many new and trendy architects nowadays, it is still heartwarming to see architecture which was designed with the user in mind. You could almost feel the love that Renzo Piano had for the site, the architecture and the end user. Love oozing out from architecture!

The gloomy and grey weather brought out a certain beauty in the way the nature interacted silently with the building and the artwork. There were only vague sounds of the light rain tapping on the hardscape...and ocasionally some cars whizzing past. The amount of traffic is probably much less as it was an Easter Friday. Quitely, the building engages with its surroundings, and the paintings and artwork spoke to the space and the landscape beyond the windows.

My favourite gallery space is the one with Monet's Waterlilies. It spans over 3 canvases and one sits on the white couch facing the painting, which is lit by the full height glazing facing the waters outside. Surreal, to have real matter and painting side by side and yet appreciating the beauty of both.

Frogs

2008-01-22T15:16:00.000-08:00

Came home today and found two cards in the post. Yay! Finally some birthday cards from friends....it's been a pretty grim post life for the past few months.

Strangely both cards were of green frogs!! What the...?! How in the world does coincdence happen - and is this a sign or what? Am I supposed to meet a frog, or is my man a frog in disguise? Really really odd......

That aside, oh, I love these cards from friends to death. In DA's card, everyone wrote 'I miss you' with Dubi ending with 'see? everyone misses you! Come back, even for a holiday at least!' The other card from ThiaLeaf and Anti-mould was brilliant as well. I have never felt more missed in my life...absence does make the heart grow fonder!

State

2007-12-06T16:36:00.000-08:00

I feel homesick.

The last two months I received two messages separately from two dear friends asking me to return home. Each time I almost had tears welled up in my eyes. I miss them dearly. I miss not able to share my thoughts, joys, sorrows, frustration instantly with friends within the same time zone. What good is consolation after 8 hours, and to beat that I have to stay home to make a landline call too.

Now that the end of the year is creeping near, the yearning for good friends' company has escalated. Maybe that's got to do with the recent Jay Chou album which I have been listening too. It brings back memories of home, some kind of sentiment which Western music seem not to deliver.

I want to reminisice my last year with a dear friend. We used to do it every year over some senseless new year parties and overload of drinks. Each year always seem to be better and harder to top, we used to say.

Dear friends if you are reading this - you are very much dearly missed :)

Open Season

2007-11-25T03:30:00.000-08:00

OOohhhhh I'm loving my virgin purchase from amazon.com - British Sea Power's Open Season! And to top it up tix for their gig in Jan 08 have just been released and I got 4 tix!!!
Wooooooo-hooooooo!!!

And this is my favourite line of the day!

So irrigate your heart until you know you're complete
And you're draped in kelp, below by 8,000 feet

Music: British Sea Power - Open Season
Mood: Inspired, excited. A natural high.

Comfort Zone

2007-11-23T14:59:00.000-08:00

Winter has creeped in quietly - it has been cold the past week. No matter how much I layer up, the cold stilll manages to creep through the multiple layers of coat/ wool/ jumper to my body. Even knee high boots are not doing the job of keeping my toes warm and happy.

And yet along my way to work, I seem to just about see enough skimpily dressed women (at least for this weather of 6-8 degree celcius) to prove that some women do put beauty before comfort. This is a big contrast to some girlfriends I know who put comfort at the highest priority, and beauty secondary.

What is this comfort zone that we are familiar with? Ever since moving to London, I have not been entirely comfortable. In fact, I think I have been too comfortable in Singapore that now I am getting used to the idea that I do not need to be comfortable all the time. The harshness of the weather here has taught me that a person's physical tolerance limits can be stretched. It is not necessary to have heating all the time, you are bound to feel a little bit warmer or colder than your preferred comfort zone. It is not necessary to take off your coat just because you are slightly warmer...you just stick with it for a while, and endure a little discomfort, and soon you will be off the tube.

In Singapore things come too easily. If you are feeling warm, you turn on the air-conditioning. If you are tired, you take the taxi. Most things of comfort are within reach. My flatmate mentioned that she missed the lifestyle in Singapore where you can easily take a taxi, go for facial, buy expensive clothes, have expensive and good haircut...but over here in London, money is always spent with second thoughts.

I suppose I am not big on material comfort. Not being able to afford a lifestyle in London that is comparable to Singapore does not really bother me. I am intrigued and curious about this slight discomfort. In fact I like this feeling of discomfort. This discomfort makes me think of alternatives to what I was used to have, and if I truly need to be entirely comfortable.

The pursuit of comfort becomes stronger and more imaginative, as long as you are ready for the slight imperfection.

The one that got away

2007-11-14T15:28:00.000-08:00

"I remember you were sick for a week, you came back, worked for a morning and had to return home."

"I don't remember what I say to people."

"That's what happen to people when they grow old, isn't it?"

"She's always that focused when she works."

"I wonder what's the point of meeting someone in London when I want to return to home eventually."

"I see my friends setting up family and having kids. Last Wednesday, another friend gave birth."

"Didn't you say the fatty bit is the best part?"

"If you give it, you will receive. It's a quote from a really bad Kevin Costner movie: If you build it, they will come."

"Is that why you are walking funny er..wobbly today?"

"I met someone three days ago, on Sunday. Just like that."

Small Metal Object

2007-11-13T15:54:00.000-08:00

Went to an urban play last Saturday at Stratford station.

Titled Small Metal Object, the play takes place at Stratford Station, a rail and tube station in East London. Nothing much was written about the play, except from a few Australian reviews here and there. Basically we would be given headphones to hear the actors speak, while the play could take place anywhere in the station within our sight.

Lunch Buddy suggested that we arrive at the station earlier so that we could get ready with the gear and find out where exactly we were supposed to be watching the play from. 45 minutes prior to the beginning of the show, we arrive at Stratford station and see this huge temporary spectator stand right above the entrance, like a football viewing platform with a huge banner that read "Small Metal Object".

Once seated, we had our headphones on and from it streamed some whimsical music. Then an usher stood in front of us, holding a huge billboard as if we were part of a studio audience, informing us that the show would be starting soon.

Then, just as we were taking in the entire view of the station, we hear an atmospheric sound which seemed to have filled the entire train station. Just when I thought it was cool that they had the entire station filled with music, I removed my headphones and realised that only us the audience could hear what was going on. We were physically in the station, however experiencing the station on another level brought upon by the theatre of the music.

A conversation between two English blokes began. "I'm lonely." "Why?" (ok not the exact words but something like that) I took about ten minutes to figure out where the characters were within the station. Once I found them, the commuters within the station seem to disappear into the background and the drama took centrestage. Throughout the play, puzzled commuters looked at us and wondered what a group of people sitting above the station were looking at, as if we were the performers while we looked at them through the eyes of the spectator. A clever reversal of roles.

A story soon unfolds and sometimes the characters spoke to some unknowing commuters standing about, to much of our amusement. When the actors moved across the 'stage' our heads turned correspondingly in the direction, which I thought would be so interesting to observe from the station platform.

What I loved most about the play was the ending. When the story drew to an end, the music came on once again, engulfing the entire headphones we had. Instantly, the characters on which we have had our attention for the past hour seem to fade away....and the station came alive again, as if they had been frozen for the past hour and just been thawed, and came back into action. Brilliant.

http://www.backtobacktheatre.com/shows/smo.html

Miss Saigon

2007-11-07T15:47:00.000-08:00

I think it's the abundance of time here that I have started to revisit a lot of my childhood likes out of sheer nostalgia.... Last night I had Michael Ball's "Love Changes Everything" in my head the entire evening, so got home and logged on to Youtube immediately to satisfy that itch.

While trawling through the web, I came across Lea Salonga's clips. Hearing them brought back many happy memories of listening to musicals while I was much younger, feeding off my elder sister's collection. I still remember watching the entire audtion for Miss Saigon, and how she sang "Sun and Moon" during her first audition, blowing the judges away. While obsessively reading up on what has happened in her life for the last twenty years on Wikipedia also revealed that she was the first Asian to play Eponine in Les Miserables!

Went to work today and related what I did last night to a Philippino colleague. He said that I should watch her sing her wedding vows....and I did. It was very sweet, and I noticed that both of them, although choked at times were smiling and laughing through their tears. Made my hair stand a little. Gosh I want to get married too.

and see how far she has come...from a little girl in Manila!

Sleeping Through Life

2007-10-16T15:13:00.000-07:00

A friend's visiting Mum uttered these words last week, "If you sleep through life you're probably not going to notice all these (gut instincts that danger situations help develop)."

Am determined not to sleep through life.

My Aching Thighs

2007-10-15T14:50:00.000-07:00

Finally after a rainy summer filled with sporadic running sessions, the Cardiff Half Marathon is over! Yippee! That means my schedule no longer has to be filled with "-- mins running. slow pace. flat." Nor do I have to feel guilty anymore for spending glorious sunny days (not that there are any left for the year) not running.... Yay!

Cardiff is by no means beautiful - the prettiest stretch is Cardiff Bay, followed by Bute Park. Strange enough, since this is my first race overseas, I noticed they didn't have any milestone markers, i.e. you have no idea how far you have ran unless you kept a log in your head. Only when I felt that hey this is getting a bit long...that we finally saw a "12 mile" mark. Until then it was pure cruising.

This time round it was a much easy run, albeit cold but not as tortorous as the race in Singapore, where every single minute I just wanted to give up. This run was rather easy. And the lack of milestone markers made it easier as well. I didn't know how long I was going to take, just keep running. Never mind about the grannies and grandpas who run past me. The worst point must be when a tall and old and hunchback old man with pale, skinny legs over took me. From the corner of my eye I could sense him, only when he past me did I see his oversized retro glasses, his silvery hair, his almost floating running steps and incredibly skinny legs with sagging skin. And he PAST me. Wah lao.

But all in all, I was happy with my results. It was a tad 2 hr 35minutes but I'm going to tell myself it's 2.5 hrs instead. hehe.

After the run we made our way back to London to join in A's birthday drinks. It must be my lucky day because it was then that I had my very first celebrity sighting in London. and the lucky guy to be spotted was none other than.... Mr. Brokeback Mountain himself.

Not so great expectations

2007-10-07T16:00:00.000-07:00

Feel really lousy today.

In fact, lousy is not the feeling. The feeling is a combination of anger, loneliness, guilt, nostalgia and resignation. I was angry that I have yet again compared my current friendships with the long-standing friendship that I have with my old girlfriends. I was angry with myself for expecting more and allowed myself to be vulnerable. Why, I asked myself. Why did I not think for myself first and avoid landing myself in this situation. Why did I trust someone else but myself, why did I forget that I am nobody's obligation, why did I forget that I must be self-reliant. I got angry with myself, got angry at the other person, felt guilty afterwards because it is not her fault but mine for thinking this is true friendship and not some fair-weathered friend, got nostalgic about my old friends and then reached resignation that friends you get at this age are simply not the same.

I need to teach myself how to have a different type of friendship. Where you expect nothing and feel nothing when you are disappointed.

Holy Matrimony

2007-10-02T13:10:00.000-07:00

I spent the last week with my favourite people in the whole wide world.

For the last few days, it was as if we never left school. The same faces, now laden with the signs of age still look the same when we laugh to rock the house down. The same voices speak of very different topics now but are still as shrill and hold no regards for polite conversation.

The reason why Ribe and I have travelled miles to be together with our friends was to attend our good friend BL's wedding. It is by no mean feat that she has gotten this far to being married and we wanted to show our support and give her all our blessings in person.

Out of so many people in the world, she finally found someone who she could spend the rest of her life with. Congratulations BL, we are all happy for you!

Practice makes Perfect

2007-09-14T10:16:00.001-07:00

I have been sick for five days!! How unbelievable is that. Went to work on Monday only to retreat back home after one hour of work as it was really not productive. Then when I thought I was getting better on Wednesday, being overly confident of my state of health, once again I trotted to work, only to return home after lunch as I could not have my mind focus on any task but breathing and staying awake.

Anyhow, over the last five torturous days I was lying in my bed reading whenever my mind had a little bit of capability to concentrate. My bedtime book for the moment is V.S.Naipaul's "Letters Between a Father and Son". I have always meant to read Naipaul but never got around doing it, and this happens to be his first book that I am reading.

The contents aside, one of the very heartwarming themes that run through this book is the genuine interest that both Father and Son have in each other's writing. In the many letters that were corresponded between them, the Son, an aspiring writer in university was always urging the Father not to be disheartened by the lack of interest by other in his writings. Instead, he encouraged the Father to write furiously, consistently and never give up. Vice versa, the Father wrote numerous times encouraging the Son to keep his optimism on finding a publisher for his novel, and also to write profusely.

Cut to another documentary which I caught at the National Portrait Gallery about David Hockney in fall last year. David Hockney, in his seventieth year, had an exhibition last year on portraits. In the documentary, Hockney was always seen sketching. He had a little pocket-sized sketchbook with him, using it to capture any object or moment which he found interesting or fascinating. When asked how often does he sketch in his little sketch book, his reply was, "Everyday".

The discipline and passion in a certain form of art which fuels one's life to the extent that it has to be done everyday, not as a work requirement but as a form of honing one's craft is something I always wanted. A favourite female musician of mine said that she is not a mother to her child or wife to her husband 24/7. The only side of her which is consistent every minute of her existence is being a music writer.

How can you be an Architect 24/7? Is it even possible? Surely it does include a presentation of your outlook everyday (the practice of proportion/colours onto your own body - I did not say image), living and enjoying life (so you know how your clients would enjoy life)...but is that all?

If there is a skill which you would put in practice every single day so that you will become better at your art, what would it be?

Train Rides

2007-09-14T10:10:00.000-07:00

Found these amazing music videos by Michel Gondry, director to two of my favourite films "Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind" and "The Science of Sleep".

You've got to watch the both of them in order! brilliance.
I'll never look at train rides the same way again.

The World of Beatrix Potter

2007-09-11T06:31:00.000-07:00

Last Bank holiday we went to Lake District and visited The World of Beatrix Potter, a museum of sorts for the tales which she has written. It was such a joy visiting the place! Lots of rabbits, rats, squirrels, cats etc.

The visit starts with a three minute short film in a small theatrette illustrating the stories which she has written. After which when the door opens there is Peter Rabbit! It was so much fun that we ended up taking loads of silly pictures!

Inspiration

2007-09-10T08:10:00.000-07:00

I fell ill again. Having worked in the office today for one and a half hour, I decided to pack up and go home, heeding Singaporean Wannabe's advice : " An unhappy (my name) makes an unhappy office!"

Singaporean Wannabe (SW) is in love with Singapore. He joined the office in April, while I was stuck in Singapore processing the work permit. As soon as he met me when I returned, he was exhilarated, amused by my accent and truly happy to know someone who knows what laksa is. Incidentally, he pronounces laksa as "lexa" which took me about three minutes to understand what he meant.

I asked SW once why does he like Singapore that much, his reply was, "I like how Singapore makes me feel!" and he then asked what I was doing in London, and was it because of the same reason.

This question never occured to me before but having been asked, I do agree with SW that you would be in love with a place if it does make you feel a certain way. Although I am not quite sure that is the reason why I am in London but it definitely is one of the reasons why I am still in London.

I feel particularly inspired in London. Granted, I did feel inspired in my short visit to Shanghai too with the speed of construction and new things springing up. The inspiration in London is slightly different. It is something I can identify with, the music, the culture and the arts. I struggled to think about a place where I feel inspired in Singapore and it was somewhere which is already gone - the S11 outside the old National Library on Stamford Road.

Just the other day I caught a film at the Barbican on the Beatles. It was part of Channel 4's arts programme, and it was a TV documentary on the greatest musicians in 20th Century. The host, eassayist, has identified Lennon/McCartney together with Leonard Bernstein, Cole Porter and Bernard Herrman as this century's greatest music writers.

Now I have liked The Beatles for a long time, ever since I was ten and this film just totally rocked my entire understanding of their music. His thesis was simple, in a time where the 20th century classical composers were turning their back on the traditional harmony and workings of the western music, Lennon/McCartney created popular music with key techniques from the western music, fusing the classical and the popular, resulting in a new type of popular music unheard in that time.

With his simple (not simplistic) strip-down of the technicalities of chords and musical workings in the classical music, Goodall presented The Beatles' music with comparisons and examples to illustrate how complex their "pop" music is. He introduced the concepts of chords which I studied years ago in my music theory lessons which I thought were never applicable to anything but classical music. I never knew that the introduction alone to Eleanor Rigby had eight different chords and there are sixteen in the entire song, compared to the standard popular tune which had only four or five!

It is really refreshing to see The Beatles' music from a trained musician's point of view. Howard Goodall is a trained composer, musician and knows his stuff really well. The sheer brilliance that he could bridge the dry musical theory with something so popular and over-heard, and bringing a fresh perspective is truly remarkable. Some of the examples he brought out as part of his argument were The Beatles' constant invention and creation of something new, taking inspiration from almost everywhere, anything that they have heard. Looping in the studio, experimenting with tape recordings, absorbing ethnic cultures and their sound influences...the list goes on and on.

At the end of the screening, Goodall was present for a Q&A session. When asked why he thought McCartney and Lennon were not as brilliant after their separation, his answer was one which probably sums up the greatest divorce in the history of music. That both of them never found anyone as great as themselves as sparring partners, and instead surrounded themselves with people of less greatness. What a shame.

http://www.howardgoodall.co.uk/presenting/20centurygts.htm

The Road Less Travelled

2007-09-05T14:08:00.000-07:00

Yesterday the Tube Union went on strike, i.e. no Tube for 3 days!!

For me the lucky one, as I walk to work, that was not a problem. My workplace is a 35 min walk away from home, and now that the weather's good, I walk to work and home everyday. But not others who had to commute nearly two hours to get to work in tiny London!

The usual tranquil Hyde Park was turned into a frenzy. There were loads of cyclists and pedestrians with mismatching running shoes (mostly women in their work clothes + running shoes outfit, me included) commuting in the park. It almost felt that the city came alive and many people were busy getting from point A to B, some are commuting alone, some are walking and chatting with friends, I had a few builders walk in front of me with their safety jackets.

The roads were congested with almost twice the number of vehicles, with school starting this week as well, I guess the number just piled up. Normally I didn't have to wait very long for the cyclists to pass, yesterday it was a long wait. Turning around to South Kensington, the usual lonely bus-stop was jam-packed!! Many buses arrived at the bus-stops already in solid condition, not even an air gap for an insect to get through.

Having arrived at the office, it was half empty. An hour later, KP called and said she has travelled for two hours and is still at Waterloo! (that is almost 20 min tube ride away in distance) She was clearly traumatised and couldn't imagine the next day.

Many plans were cancelled. None responded to my invite for a game of frisbee in Hyde Park due to the tube strike. Only faithful HL and an enthusaistic Lunch Buddy who walked with us pushing his bike, turned up. We ended up having roast chicken lying in the park, watching the busy city pass us by, trying to get home in the fast setting sun...

Architects

2007-09-01T15:40:00.000-07:00

While surfing on the net to check out some architecture information for my child rearing friend today, I came across two very contrasting definitions of "Architect". One from the Royal British Institute of Architects (RIBA), and the other Singapore Institute of Architects (SIA).

On RIBA's website....

Why use an architect
Architects are trained to take your brief and can see the big picture. Architects look beyond your immediate requirements to design flexible buildings that will adapt with the changing needs of your business.

Architects solve problems creatively. When they are involved at the earliest planning stage, they gain more opportunities to understand your business, develop creative solutions, and propose ways to reduce costs.

Architects can manage your project from site selection to completion. In many building projects the role of the architect includes co-ordinating a team of specialist consultants such as landscape architects, engineers, quantity surveyors, interior designers, builders and subcontractors.

Architects can save you time. By managing and co-ordinating key project elements they allow you to focus on your organisation’s activities.

Architects can help your business. They create total environments, interior and exterior, which are pleasing and functional for the people who work and do business within them.

and on the SIA's website....

What is the role of the Architect?

The role of the architect has changed over the centuries, from being head builder to becoming the leader of a team of consultants involved in the process of designing a building, and ensuring it is constructed in accordance with the design. An Architect may be the partner of a firm, a sole practitioner, an employee in an architectural practice, an Architect in the public service or an academic at an institution.

What is the difference between an Architect and other designers and managers within the construction industry?

The main difference between an architect and other jobs such as project managers, construction managers, interior designers etc is that architects are professionals whose standard and code of conduct and ethics are regulated by law, like doctors, dentists, lawyers and engineers.The act regulating architects is called the "Architects Act".This act ensures that architects not only look after the interests of their clients, but also look after the public interest. They must also ensure that their service is disinterested - ie. they must have no personal interest in the outcome of their services. The law also protects the use of the word "Architect" and its derivatives.

How many times have I heard of complaints from my peers about the increasing insignificance of architects in the Singapore construction industry. Clearly it does not soley stem from the general public. With so many other parties trying to get a piece of what we are doing, how can we protect our profession without being sidelined by others who claim to know what they are doing and hence, do without the architect? I know the discourse about the relevance of the architect is an endless one but having read the two contrasting definitions of the architect, the responsibility clearly lies on us to educate the public, and to elevate our role in the construction industry.

- texts from www.architecture.com and www.sia.org.sg

Lake District

2007-08-29T14:17:00.000-07:00

This bank holiday weekend we finally made it to the Lake District. It was a horrendous wake-up-at-5am-and-realising-driver-woke-up-late kind morning plus a 6 hour drive from London. My very first road trip in the UK!

Happy Birthday!

2007-08-17T16:30:00.001-07:00

Yesterday was Her Madgesty's 49th Birthday.

Exactly one year ago I was at the Wembley Arena singing along to a birthday song to her with the rest of the crowd at the Confessions Tour - ah that was a brilliant concert.

I can't remember what the first Madonna song I knew was but this song always reminds me of the reasons which I adore her...

Rebecca Dautremer

2007-08-17T15:57:00.000-07:00

During our Christmas trip to Paris last year, I chanced upon a French illustrator's works which I was very taken to at the bookshop in Pompidou Centre. As all the books which I liked were in French, I decided to buy an address book with her illustration instead.

While looking for a suitable children's illustration piece for a birthday card for my flatmate yesterday, I decided to search for this illustrator's images online. To my delight, I realised that she is actually a well-established illustrator, and had provided illustration for Kenzo's flower perfume as well!

There is something that's very delicate and feathery about her works with a colour palette that works very well. Whenever I flip through the address book, my eyes linger on the beautiful illustrations, and for a brief moment, I get transported to being a little girl again, reading story books on fairies and magical kingdoms.

Images of "Cyrano" and Flower by Kenzo from http://cruststation.wordpress.com/2006/03/20/rebecca-dautremer-french-illustrator/

Structure

2007-08-12T11:34:00.000-07:00

Some photos taken of the AA Summer show this year which I have taken so long to post!

Run

2007-07-30T15:26:00.000-07:00

First full hour run of the year. hurrah!

Richard Hawley

2007-07-22T05:41:00.000-07:00

One thing I regularly do when I'm on internet radio (which is most of the time) is to type in lyrics of songs which grab me by the heart and search for their song titles.

This Sunday morning, I was fortunate enough to chance upon hearing Richard Hawley's "Tonight the streets are ours".

It's been a while since I heard such a soulful male voice which reminds me of Roy Orbison, Elvis and Elvis Costello. Lovely.

Playboy Mommy

2007-07-16T13:50:00.000-07:00

Third consecutive post on Tori!

Tori has always been known to use her life experience as a ground to write and create her music. There was a rape album, a break-up album, a miscarriage album... they were fantastic stuff, real intense and emotional. None of the filtered, washed down words which singers belt out empty-hearted for the charts, but raw and directly from her soul, her being.

I found this video while surfing around for Tori's gigs on YouTube, it is a song about her miscarriage. In the song, she sings to her daughter, asking for her forgiveness because she was a "playboy mommy".

It has always been assumed that Tori had one miscarriage. It was only when I read her autobiography that I learnt that she had not one, but three miscarriages. In her book, she described how she felt like the Greek Goddess of Harvest Demeter, mother to Persephone and wife to Zeus when she miscarriaged. When Persephone was abducted by Hades, the Lord of the Underworld, Demeter was broken-hearted and wandered the earth, looking for her daughter. When she learnt about the kidnap, Demeter was so angry that she withdrew herself in loneliness, and the earth ceased to be fertile. Eventually although Hades reluctantly agreed to release Persephone, he craftily gave her some seeds of pomegranate. After eating the seeds, Persephone became bound to the Underworld for a third of the year for eternity, only returning to her mother's side for two thirds of the year. And the myth goes that whenever Persephone is in the underworld, Demeter refused to let anything grow and winter began.

There's a real sadness in her singing this song live. You can almost here her singing to her little girls, crossing the bridges all on their own to the other world.

In my platforms
I hit the floor
Fell face down
Didn't help my brain out

Then the baby came before I found
the magic how
to keep her happy

I never was the fantasy
of what you want
wanted me to be

Don't judge me so harsh little girl
so you got a playboy mommy
but when you tell em my name
and you want to cross that
bridge all on your own
little girl they'll do you no harm
cause they know
Your playboy mommy
but when you tell em my name
from here to Birmingham I got a few friends

I never was there when it counts
I get my way
you're so like me

You seemed ashamed
ashamed that I was
a good friend of American soldiers

I'll say it loud here by your grave
those angels can't
ever take my place

Somewhere where the orchids grow
I can't find those church bells
that played when you died
played Gloria
talkin bout Hosanah

don't judge me so harsh little girl
but i'll be home to take you in my arms

- "Playboy Mommy", Tori Amos

2007-07-09T15:18:00.000-07:00

Essence of Tori singing accoustic.

The Girl and Her Piano

2007-07-04T15:30:00.000-07:00

Just returned from the long awaited Tori’s American Doll Posse gig!

I was a bit apprehensive before going to the gig as I didn't know what to expect from Tori, as the new album is slightly different and yet similar to her earlier stuff. And days after I got the album, I told Radioactiv Spyder that it seems this album hasn't got it.

But I was so wrong.

What an absolutely fantastic gig it was. The 2 hour show started with Santa, one of the four other “girls” or personas in the album , dressed in a 60-ish off-white bare-shoulder cocktail dress, and a platinum blonde bob. Once the gig started, the mood was electrifying, a sort of rock band with a sexy chick at the piano rocking away. First song was "Body and Soul" and the second song came as an absolute surprise when Santa dived into “God”. What a dream line-up! It was surreal, seeing “Tori” with a new image, and yet singing an old familiar song. Santa is decidedly different from Tori. She teases, flirts and moves with playing the piano in subtle yet provocative poses. Very different from Tori, yet her moves are so aligned with what Santa is supposed to be, an aphrodite.

After she performs a few more songs from American Doll Posse and heating up the hall, the scene changes. Fancy lights starts to beam and the remix of Professional Widow starts to play while Santa takes a bow and exit. And enters Tori! The same woman enters but with an entirely different air. Tori now donnes a long straight redhair wig, and wears a animal print catsuit which shows off a shoulder. As if to confuse us, Tori starts off with “Big Wheel” from ADP. That didn’t feel like Tori yet, until she launches into a piano drift which she performed between two pianos…..and twinkled away a piano rift which was familiar yet difficult to place, until she sang the first lines of “Crucify”! That was absolutely fantastic! For those unknown, “Crucify” is Tori’s first real hit single. From her latest single, she jumps into her very first single – it almost feels that she has come full circle.

The return of Tori Amos, every small gesture, every move to express that music into a body language, the intensity she plays her keyboards, entirely different from Santa. This Tori knows and recognises you, and tosses her head away just to punctuate a line, or jerks her head up just to make a point. This Tori improvises, and the keyboard is her extension. One funny thing happened during the song "Black Dove" where Tori had a 'brain fart' and broke into an impromptu of a tune which she made up on the spot, "Brain Fart"! It was rather hilarious, as the band members seemed in shock too. Tori soon made it up with a terrific "Bliss", from "To Venus and Back".

Tonight, not only was there a new Tori, it was also good to see the old Tori back. Tori has become a mummy and for a while was not that much of a rock chick. But tonight she is back in full form. Even though now she donnes a wig, she still has that magic to give so much to a voice, to a string of words, to the piano keys and the melody. I listened intently on all the songs which I knew and had somehow forgotten. She brought back all the memories and what it felt to know a Tori song. To know it by heart, to know it like a person and to grow with it. Tonight it all cemented into one incredible journey.

There are so many highlights to the gig that I can't really list them all... I guess one of the best moment was to hear Crucify live, and played so early in the night. You know how certain songs belong to a part of you that only you know? Tori's songs are like that to me. Over the years, as she morphs into different personalities and goes through different personal experience, her music touched me in different ways. Crucify was the first Tori song I knew, and I still remember reading off the lyrics in a page of Smash Hits with her picture on it. I was only 13 then, still in love with learning the classical piano and yet was beginning to get distracted by pop music. Her sound was incredibly fresh and liberating, and I was intoxicated. She made me realised that the piano is just a medium, the music lies in the soul.

15 years on, she still holds a special place in my heart. I nursed my heartbreak with her Northern Lad and 1000 oceans, when no words or rationale could tide me through tough times, I turn to her music. It must be poetry, or some kind of magic - how she weaves the words, music and stories together, it somehow works for me.

Someone asked me before, how can you listen to Tori all the time? Why is she always that unhappy? Truth is, I don't listen to her all the time, and she is not always that unhappy. It is not easy listening to Tori. Her lyrics often don't make sense and her music are not the stuff of easy digestion. Yet there is no other way to listen to Tori. To understand her music, you need to know the words, feel her story and fingers on the keyboard. You can't leave it on as background music, nor can you listen to it while doing something else. She does not let in easy on her inspirations and personal experience (although there are always publicly known concepts to her albums), and it is always a guessing game. But when you get it, you really do, and you rarely let go.

I never dreamt that I could see her live in person as she never plays Asia. But I have been so lucky to have seen her twice. Although both gigs are of a different nature (she played solo on the last tour), the dedication to the artistry of the performance is obvious. One of the reasons Tori has many personas for her latest album was because she found it difficult to explain to her daughter why the person on the stage is different from her mommy. Now that her daughter is 7, she feels that the time is right for her to return to her rock chick persona.

I was going to list my favourite moments but I think it would take another post altogether. All I can say is I was really moved to hear her older stuff, stuff we grew up with, stuff which she played - just the girl and the piano.

And just for you, my dear fellow Ear with Feet, even though you never joined me for all the adventures, I know that if you truly could, you would. And so the set list goes....

Act I (Santa)
Body And Soul
God
My Posse Can Do
Dragon
Secret Spell
You Can Bring Your Dog

Act II (Tori)
Big Wheel
Crucify
Siren
Cornflake Girl
Bells For Her
“Independence Eve” improv
Spring Haze (yeah, with the band)

Solo
China
Cool On Your Island
Yes Anastasia

Band Returns
Putting The Damage On
Black Dove (partial) > Brain Fart improv segue > Bliss
Code Red

First Encore
Precious Things
Bouncing Off Clouds

Second Encore
Tear In Your Hand
Hey Jupiter

"Cool on Your Island" was absolutely fabulous, especially it came after "China" - these two almost made me teared. Tear in your Hand was as spectacular as usual, and what a great way to end it with Hey Jupiter :)

Love ya, Tori!

Hurray - Alan Johnston is freed!

2007-07-04T14:12:00.000-07:00

I woke up today to a piece of news on BBC - that British Journalist Alan Johnston is freed after 114 days of captivity in Gaza City. What a wonderful piece of news! On the telly were Johnston's aged parents, being interviewed by other journalists about how they were feeling. In their very simple words, they said they were very happy that the ordeal is over, and they're very glad that they will be seeing him soon.

The last time I saw Johnston on TV, he was speaking with lifeless eyes with explosives strapped to his body. With a monotonous but clear voice, he spoke calmly, stating that his captors will detonate the bomb if force is used to free him. He also asked his well-wishes to join in the appeal to the government not to use the tactic of force. I couldn't imagine what could possibly be going through his head at that moment. He must be scared, tired and worried.

I never thought Johnston would return home. What a terrific day this is. As a caller to the station said, even the rain stopped today. While we go about our everyday lives in our own small world, thousands of men and women are out there are risking their lives in the warzone, a place which will remain foreign to most of us in our lifetimes.

A salute to these brave souls.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/middle_east/6268102.stm

Antony Gormley at Hayward Gallery

2007-06-30T17:43:00.001-07:00

I first knew about Antony Gormley through a book borrowed from my ex-office's library. At that time, I was surprised that Man with a Green Pen (MWGP) would have a book with disparate human body sculptures floating about in galleries and seasides.

Last August, I finally saw Gormley's work in the form of Angel of the North in Gateshead, Newcastle. Not only was the scale unimaginable, the feelings it evoked was something out of the ordinary. Could it be the fact that the sculpture was named "Angel" that it seems to exude something sacred and honourable about it? If that is that, then the industrial formwork of the "wings" totally defy what an angel is - something supernatural instead of constructed with high precision.

In anycase, I loved that scupture and the calmness it delivers with its presence in a field out of nowhere.

This time round, Gormely has done something rather different for Hayward Gallery, London. The premier of his work, Blind Light, consists of a glass box which has water vapour and mist continually blown into, allowing the gallery audience to go in at a rate which the capacity allows.

While queueing up, the experience is a little surreal. From a box which seems pretty opaque, occasionally a shadow reveals itself to be a person nearing the edge of the box, thereby presenting total transparency of onself.

When in the box, it is an experience that is out of this world. Walking into the box is a precarious option. Within the first five steps of entering the box, one soon realises that there is not much point trying to plan one's route as you can't see anyway. The first thought that appeared in my head was how Little Dragon Girl (xiao long nu) must have felt when she was training in the ice cave for some best kung-fu in the world. As my flatmate and I drift apart within the box, I looked up, left and right. Shucks, I really can't see a thing then white vapour all around me. I could hear people speaking but i couldn't see them. I couldn't judge at what distance I was from them, or if I was nearing the edge of the box which in that case I could see. Gormely was right - the light which allows us to see now blinds us, beyond how we could imagine.

Together with this exhibition was the Horizon- by Gormely as well. Sculptures of the human body were placed all over London on top of buildings. The skyline of London became a playground for Gormely's unnamed men. In the process of spotting the next sculpture visible from your naked eyes, one experiences the sense of scale and distance between the viewer and the viewed. At the same time the anonymous strangers within the city evokes a familiar yet alienated sense of self. Excellent piece of art.

2007-06-22T18:11:00.000-07:00

Went for drinks at a friend's 5th year wedding anniversary.

It's nice to see friends who has stuck it out for a long time at marriage, at a time when you hear more about divorce than people having babies (or maybe, at the same frequency). As we drank more deep into the night, someone asked a question if my flatmate HL and I would accept having angmohs as partners for life.

I never gave this much of a thought but as I answered the question I actually said that I have written off Singaporean guys. And I didn't realise that until tonight when I had to answer the question. Why? was their response. I guess I know I will never fit into what a Singaporean guy wants - someone gentle, understanding, kind, docile, attentive and sweet. I am, on the contrary, someone who's loudmouthed, straightforward and tell-it-as-it is, non-sensitive and independent freespirit. And how long have I knew that for - at least since I graduated from a girls' school at sixteen. Almost for one and a half decade. In the past I used to wonder why am I not like other girls - being sensitive - ask after how everyone is, make nice gifts for everyone, being sweet and docile, thoughtful and accommodating and laugh coyly at men's jokes. I wondered why I do not really show much concern about most people, think mostly about myself, talk straight and point out all the flaws and silliness in a man's lame jokes, and generally prefer not to accommodate. I went to a co-ed school at seventeen and dated in the twenties only to find out that I don't fit in the general category of "What Men Want in Women". Then I thought dating is a waste of time if I needed to change myself, while at the same time feeling angry at myself for not being able to change.

Today's conversation made me realise something else - I grew up not needing anybody. When I first topped my primary school when I was seven, my parents couldn't make it to my prize-giving ceremony. All the school teachers asked me where my parents were and I didn't know what to say. Year after year the same thing happened. Even when I performed in school, or when took part in any competitions, when a familiar face which showed support would mean tremendously. I kept hoping that they would turn up, but they never made it. When I reached ten, I realised that things weren't going to change. I knew my parents loved me and were hard at work but somehow there will be an emotional dependence which I will never get from them. It was just not going to happen. Maybe it was then, at that point which I stopped looking for anyone's love or support.

Probably that's how I grew up, and became who I am today. When I don't ask for help, it's not because I have something to prove but because I never did and do not think there is a need to. When I don't accept someone's kindness, it's not because I don't appreciate it but because I have never felt the need for it.

And if I appear to think for myself all the time, that is because if I don't, I grew up knowing no one will.

Team Tea

2007-06-20T15:42:00.000-07:00

I had a very good day today.

Wednesday is usually our site meeting day. Ever since I came back from Singapore, Noble P. has been trying to get me to visit the site wherever possible but it always didn't work out somehow. Just so happens today we arranged a technical meeting on site with the sub-contractors on an item which I was involved in, and hence I finally got to go to site.

We had to depart early in the day as the site was about 1.5hrs drive from London. It is South-west of London and the project is a 200-room hotel next to an airport. Noble P. felt dizzy just before we were about to leave the office, and Girl with a Drawl (GWAD) had to take over the driver's seat. After a quick run-through on how to drive an automatic car, we were on our way.

The meetings went alright, even though I had problems understanding the sub-con's northern accent half the time. I took about at least ten minutes to get a hang of what he was saying without lip reading or pausing my thoughts just to digest what he said.

There was a particular moment during the meeting which reminded me how un-English I am.

Me: "...and this air duct is clashing with the access ladder."

Sub-contractor: "Oh right....so do we need to re-direct the air duct or you will move the access ladder?"

Me: " You move your duct."

Sub-contractor: "Woah...." followed by laughter from all the rest in the room.

I forgot I'm in London where a straightforward approach is not always appreciated!

After the meeting, Noble P. drove GWAD and me home and GWAD invited us to her place to have tea. Delighted at such generosity, Noble P. and I gladly accepted the invitation.

GWAD stays in Ealing, West London in a nice and comfortably-sized house with her parents, sisters and husband. We met GWAD's husband at the door, and were swiftly introduced to her family members who were home at that time. It is nice that a colleague is open enough to share a glimpse of her family life with you, and it feels even warmer at the heart when you know that her family actually knows you even before you met.

"Oh so you're S......Oh so you're L....." Noble P. and I suddenly felt that we were really exposed.

Over a cup of tea, we shared stories on how much we knew about each other's lives through GWAD, how Uncle GWAD is obsessed with Noble P.'s Lexus, and how a particular robin likes to visit the family. There was even a point where GWAD's husband shared a poem on donkeys, followed by imitations of a donkey's sound, contributed by Noble P. as well.

It was a great way to relax after a trip out on site, to be greeted by such genuine hospitality and warmth. Although my team is small, I can't help but feel that because we work so well together, our respect for each other translates into a deeper affection. One which is rare and very much mutually treasured.

My Morning Jacket

2007-06-14T16:08:00.000-07:00

I was introduced to this band last year, when A asked me along to a gig with his friends at the London Astoria. Vaguely remembering old friend yeech waxing lyrical about MMJ before, and being a gig junkie as I am known now, I agreed.

That night proved to be one of the best musical journeys I have taken. Even we arrived late at the venue and A was suffering from stomach upset, MMJ played with such gusto that it was worth every penny and I was clinging on to every second of the musical experience.

On the surface, MMJ seems to play loud, rock tunes with endless guitar bits. However, as the night draws on, the magic of this band unfolds itself into a great work of tapestry and orchestration that it makes your heart ache with fondness, anguish, sorrow and gaiety.

Lead singer, Jim James has one of the most amazing voices I have ever heard. At times strong and masculine, like a real rocker, at times vulnerable like a child, and while wailing, he is woeful and bittersweet like a beaten man. His voice is like an instrument which takes on a personality with the rhythm and melody. It transforms with every different song, with every different tempo and mood that the song entails. A close comparison of this enigmatic quality I can think of are Thom Yorke and my favourite singer, Tori Amos (whom I'll be seeing live this coming July!). They belong to a collection of music which you would listen to all alone at night with no lights on, thinking back on the memories of your life or just watching the starry skies and letting the music echo into the space beyond. Sublime.

so. I do believe.

none of this is physical

at least not to me

so, I do believe

that anywhere it goes

it's always with me

it's not the dream

that makes you weak

it's not the night that makes you sleep

but it's a voice. and it's a choice

to call you out. or stay at home

so! I do believe

none of this is physical

at least not to me

so I do believe

that anywhere it goes

it's always with me

it's not the beast.

it's not the sheets

so soft and warm. all over me

but it's the touch. you need so much

to move around on this green earth

take your money and your drugs

to anyone who wondered

what old jebus meant to me

take him out to go diving

in red patoka sea

the brain melts in the twilight

with the boar and moving trees

your skin looks good in moonlight

and god damn those shaky knees

the fact that my heart's beating

is all the proof you need

- "Steam Engine", My Morning Jacket

Summer

2007-06-03T07:15:00.000-07:00

I feel light, fresh and rested.

HL and I climbed out of my living room window today, bringing our freshly brewed coffee and stood at our make-shift balcony for a while, absorbing in the sun and the fresh summer air.

'What if we stayed in London for a really long time?'
'I want to be friends with the neighbours across with the funky roof garden'
'That roof looks really cute'

Idle talk on an idle afternoon. It's time to play songs from my 'Summer Feelin' playlist!

Music: 'Those Good Old Dreams' - Carpenters
Mood: Blessed, fortunate

Portsmouth Party

2007-05-28T10:56:00.001-07:00

Thunder invited us over to a friend's place in Portsmouth this May Bank Holiday. Themed as a cocktail party, we were supposed to mix and drink cocktails from Sunday afternoon all the way till Monday morning, i.e. Hardcore.

Portsmouth is a waterfront city which is situated Southeast of England. From London, we had to take a near two hour train ride, transfer to a ferry and then take a cab to Gosport. By the time we reached C's place, it was already 5pm.

C's place is a cozy little beach house accessible by a series of steep stone steps down from the main road. The narrow leafy path leads to a glass clad building, and upon entering, the living room opens up to a small patio with a lawn, and the beautiful sea view ahead.

I have never been to a house by the beach. Have watched movies, heard friends talk about their dreams but I have never been one to be enticed to own a house on a beach. I finally get it now. The cool breeze and having the view of the sea as part of the house, and watching the sun rise above the horizon from just the outside of your room.

We drank and karaoked till the sun rose the next morning. G was hilarious in her kungfu fighting performance, A forgot to use her sleeping bag carried from london so laboriously, M made me run all the time when we sang Tiffany's hit song, and Thunder was our faithful KTV DJ.

A tiring but really enjoyable Bank Holiday!

The morning after.

Italia 07

2007-05-26T08:00:00.000-07:00

"Bonjorno!"

We spent our early summer in May 07 in Italia this year. It was a trip that almost didn't happen; I was stuck in Singapore for some visa problems and only touched down in London two nights before due for Italy. What could possibly made it worse was that I was down with a flu on my flight back to London as well. Thankfully, everything fell in place just before the departure date, and we made our way in the middle of the night to Stansted Airport due for Roma.

I have heard many things about Italy before, its beauty, its food, its culture and history. Having been to Venice last year, that didn't count very much as a true Italian experience (although Venice still remains one of my favourite cities in the world). This time round, I finally saw for myself that Italy is truly, bellissima.

I loved Italy for its passionate people and the exuberance in the way they carry about with their lives. It is similar to the feeling I get in Spain, but probably because of the well-known history of the country, Italy seems easier to relate to.

My favourite memories of Italy:

- walking into a coffee bar and hearing "Bonjorno!"

- leaving a coffee bar and hearing "ciao" or "ciao ciao" or even better, "ciao bella!"

- people watching (not the tourists), and wondering how do the Italians look so good

- people watching at the lao-rens and wondering why the old Italian men still look so good

-tasting the best gelato of my life and looking ridiculously hysterical outside Guy Odin in Napoli - it was the hazelnut flavour!!

- watching the most spontaneous outburst of song by the Goose Clan BBQ men (short story to follow) in Siena

- seeing Ponte Vecchio at sunset

- imagining being one of the Pompeiians walking in their amazingly well-preserved town

- tasting the best pizza of my life, and discovering the fried pasta ball!!

- seeing Michaelangelo's David and understanding why it is such an important piece of work

- reaching Tomba Brion in San Vito Altivole with a non English speaking cab driver, and meeting a kind bus driver who decided not to charge us on our way back

- a bed and breakfast owner telling us that in Italy, everything's relaxed

- discovering a fantastic local restaurant in Venice when every single corner is a TT (tourist trap) restaurant

- every single moment in Cinque Terre, including tasting the best polpo (octupus salad) ever!

Good friend Neonangel told me about this saying, "Roma, non basta una vita" - Rome, one lifetime is not enough. I will say that for Italy!

Music: 'Cayman Islands' - Kings of Convenience
Mood: Thankful

The Rest

2007-05-19T03:31:00.000-07:00

I am finally back. Back from many things... back from Singapore, back from Italy, back from travelling, back from home. Back to home in London, back to work, back to planning for weekends and back to thinking twice before spending in pounds.

Back to the rest of my life, and having a good rest.

*Italy photos coming up!

Mood: Restful, yet inspired
Music: BBC Radio 1
Weather in London: Cloudy with sunshine

Little Ones

2007-04-26T03:53:00.000-07:00

One of the many joys this trip back home was to see friends and also their babies! It's amazing how much they have grown. Erin was barely walking when I left last year, and Yuki was still a little infant (and unfortunately I didn't get a picture with her!). Stellar mum was not even pregnant before I left!

A crying Erin with Popo & I in Jan '06 (plus erin's dad cropped off)

A serious Erin March '07

Stella!

Home

2007-04-04T22:37:00.000-07:00

It is nice to return home after a year overseas. Familiar faces, familiar behaviours, familiar surroundings and social etiquette.

Somehow it can be so easy to slip back into your old self and forget everything that has happened in a year. It is almost imagineable how you can erase that part of memory just with a cross.

A lot of people have asked me where is better, here or London. Even sometimes zen-mom would pose that question, even though she thinks that I should stay in London. Yup, sometimes she goes on the phone..." stay there lah...".

Maybe what I like most about London is the lack of obligations. You do what you like, and you live the life you want to live. Everyone pursues what they want, and failure is taken with a pinch of salt. Life is diversity personified. No one determines or really cares enough to say how you should live your life. Just go out and do your own thing. I like the idea that there are choices. Your life is not a stereotype that you can forsee in your peers or people you know. There are options.

Coming back, I also spent some thought about the family. I never understood how it feels like to be closely knit with your family. My family is not close, and I never really felt that there is a need to be. Even spending one year away, most friends ask if I really miss my family, I find myself finding there not much of a difference. I find myself doing the same things as before, i.e. going out of the house more often than staying indoors. It bothers me sometimes that I seem to have this element lacking. This element of love for my family. Somehow it rarely surfaces at all.

I wonder if it is a phase or it is just how I am.

Shaft of light

2007-03-24T03:27:00.000-07:00

A pub at Sheperd's Bush on a lazy Sunday afternoon.

a piece of starcrust

Finding the roots

Another year older...

Quoteworthy

Never say never

Fear

The seed of contempt

In transit

One Train May Hide Another

Adventures in Space and Beyond...

The Queen

Spring cleaning!

It's a new life!

Beginnings

Uniformity in Disguise

Pamplamoose

Love from Holyland

Grey Gardens

Feliz Neuva Año!

Jesus de Narzeth

Pisco, Peru

Adieux

αντίο

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Arigato

Date set. America del Sur.

Blissed out

Time is the best medication

Voyeur

Another post on Olivetti...

And she types...

Sudoku success

Happy Birthday, Dubi!

Nature as nature

Count on Me...

Summer!

En vacances!

The Queue & the heat

Choose your poison

Il est difficile

The Master

The Joy of Less

Let's call it quits

Reassuarance

No Barriers

My first carrot cake!

Inspiration

Brecon Beacons Beckons..

Happy Birthday, Mr. It!

First bike ride in the city!

For the best

Life is for sharing

Christmas Day musings

The Journey Home

The end of Summer

The wait is over

You Don't Know What You've Got Til It's Gone

Poetry, Commotion and Musician

Posessions

May Bank Holiday

Winter 08 - Part Two

Winter 08 - Part One

Frogs

State

Open Season

Comfort Zone

The one that got away

Small Metal Object

Miss Saigon

Sleeping Through Life

My Aching Thighs

Not so great expectations

Holy Matrimony

Practice makes Perfect

Train Rides

The World of Beatrix Potter

Inspiration

The Road Less Travelled

Architects

Lake District

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