Pretty Projections by The Electric Canvas
Night @ The Musuem. All photos property of Divine Discontent.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Flight of The Night Owls
Last friday, 25th July, Jan and I attended this event rather aptly named "Flight of The Night Owl" which was part of the Night Festival. First got wind of it from a postcard and I even thought of assembling some team to join the night race (me and my sudden outbursts of spontaneity) but thank god it didn't materialize in the end. I saw the various teams racing here and there between the museums that night and it dawned upon me that I just wanted to have a placid, relaxing night in the company of someone who has the same appreciation for museums etc. and the other reason being, I'm just lacking in that sort of exuberance. So how did it go? All the museums were opened for free admission to the public from 6pm to 2am that night. My initial idea was to visit all of them but we ended up going to 3. In the end, I went to explore the Singapore Philatelic Museum on my own when waiting for Jan to end class. I've never been there before and I thought, I just had to. Its quite a small place where you get to learn about the history and meaning behind stamps and well, if you are an avid stamp collector, you'll get to see some nifty collection of stamps from all over the world! There is a section of the exhibition room whereby you can view stamp collections country by country and its interesting to see the ideas each nationality comes up with. Come to think of it, I think there was a period of time during my childhood when I did collect stamps but the sticker phase outlasted the former. I didn't particularly enjoy this visit because there were the fast and furious teams looking for clues here and there and it was distracting. Love the pretty ceiling decorations though and got some lovely Vietnamese bookmarks for souvenirs. You'll thought I should get stamps but nah..nothing caught my fancy.
The Peranakan Museum, which was a stone throw away, was bustling with people as well. There was an English tour going on. Well, you could actually sign up for the hourly tours conducted in the various museums but we decided to go free and easy. The galleries and exhibitions, which span three storeys of the former Tao Nao School, took us through the history of Peranakan people and their way of life. The collection gave us glimpses of their origins, marriage practices, textiles, cuisine and dining ware, religion etc. The interesting part for me was getting acquainted with their culture (the lavish wedding ceremony!) and glimpsing the dedication of their tradition embodied in their intricately designed porcelains, jewellery and furniture. Besides the permanent exhibitions, there is another highlight going on called Junk to Jewels: The things that Peranakans value. We didn't really browse as meticulously for this section but basically its just some of the artefacts that tell a story of being a Peranakan.
Our next stop was The National Museum of Singapore where we were greeted by a night bazaar hawking lovingly made beaded toys to snacks served by the Rendevous Hotel. Just across the road, some electro-rock fusion music reveberated from the stage set up at the SMU compound for The Beatnik Picnic by Zouk. We agreed bossa nova or acid chill out would have been a better choice. Met my primary school friend while browsing the stalls at the bazaar and I thought it was pretty incredible that she recognized me. Its been more than a decade since we last saw each other? But once she came up to me...I sort of knew who she might be. Jan was awe-strucked by the white light projection that was part of a light installation exhibit by The Electric Canvas, a lighting specialist company from Sydney. They did a marvellous, unprecedented job I would say, transforming our dear Nat Mus into a willing canvas for a kaleidoscopic array of visual spectacular. Thanks to the inspiring perseverance of Jan, we managed to get all the different facades on camera!
Inside the museum, another spectacular (of some sorts) greeted us. Well, this Greek inspired sculpture (I later learnt its Surrounding David by Titarubi), in a striking hue of pink and purple bits, was standing tall and huge in all his naked glory. Even non-shutterbugs could not resist as people whipped out their digital, mobile phones and some tried to squeeze into the picture as well. Amidst the throngs of people. I must really emphasized the word throngs. It is the first time I actually seen the museum, any museum, this crowded and it was like 11pm. It was actually quite a refreshing sight. Families big and small. Non-sleepy kids. Couples. The elderly. After work professionals. Girly cliques. Avid photographers. Some even brought their pet dogs and for a moment, I really thought they allowed dogs free admission too. I honestly didn't think this event would be such a hit but it was.
Anyway, back to the interior exhibits which I have to say was pretty disappointing for me. Granted that this is not Tate or Lourve...I did expect something more other than the usual suspects. Something electic and more than what people would expect. There are the 5 main galleries showing Singapore's history, film, food, photography and fashion. A photography exhibition going on at the back but too many people to really gawk and let the images sink in. We decided to give this visiting exhibition about electronic or was it digital arts a miss so I dont know if we missed out. Back outside, it was the people that once again captivated me. The idea that art or heritage or culture has that ability to bring people together and in flocks they came. We had missed the photo opportunity for the white canvas projection so we decided to just sit and wait and take in the atmosphere.
Once again, it was about the people. Earlier on, as I tried to manoeuver a tricky steep little incline on a muddy patch, I was trying to maintain my balance and not fall backwards. It was just that moment. You lose your balance and you die...of embarrassment. And thank god some good Samaritan...seeing me teetering in the mud decided to offer me his hand and of course, I grabbed it. In my fluster, I forgot if I actually thank him properly but I was really grateful. Like I was going woah woah woah in my head and he actually could sense it or see it and saved me from a potentially disgraceful fall.
Later, while I was happily chomping on a fish burger and Jan nibbling on a chicken wing, a caucasian walked by...caught my eye and smiled with a twinkle in his eye. Subsequently, he actually came up to offer his help while we were trying to take a shot of ourselves rather unsuccessfully. Jim, as he introduced himself, is a Maths teacher and a visitor from Hawaii. You know the thing that never fails to amaze me about Westerners is how friendly and warm they can be, even if they are not in their own country. We chatted awhile and he told us we should visit the Garden Festival happening at Suntec. "You girls should go" he encouraged and it was just super ironic that he was telling it to us when it should be the other way round. He left with a smile and a "I'll see you again" firm handshake.
It just made me wonder, will our paths ever cross again? Is this world really that small and fate such a big part to play? Why did we meet Jim from Hawaii and not Javier from Peru? Because for that moment, I got acquainted with a total stranger who surprised us with his friendliness and maybe it was all that made the difference. As the majestic neo-classical building stood with its usual stoic white walls bathed in magical multi-faceted colours, I realized it was a different beautiful picture, of heritage standing majestic and proud from the attention of the adoring crowds.
Saturday, July 26, 2008
The Fig Tree
Photo by Camilla McGuinn I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.
- Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar
Monday, July 21, 2008
When regrets may not be regrets
"It's a slow process, for healing is just that - a process. We have so many issues to work through and come to a peace with: the why's, that horrendous guilt thats seems to have a choke hold on so many of us at first, and the many, many unanswered questions. There seems to be a time that it is all replayed over and over again, like we can somehow make the ending different by reliving it all, by reexamining every little detail. We have a rewind button in our minds, but not in real life, so we contine to come to the same questions with no one to give answers. But in doing so, althought we don't know it at the time, we also slowly come to a peace with it by going through this process. For some, the peace comes in knowing that we will just never know and we have to accept that. For others, pieces will fit together and bring you answers that will suffice." - Louise Wirick, Finding Your Way After The Suicide Of Someone You Love
Some of us secondary school pals met on friday. In fact everyone made the effort to turn up. There was good news as there was the bad. I guess I'm just thankful that we have cultivated and maintained a special bond that defies work schedules and tiredness and everyone cared enough to turn up.
One of the girls told me that regrets cannot be considered regrets if there is a high possibility that you would have done the same thing (without knowledge of the ensuing consequences or events) if you could go back in time. Which means that some of our regrets only occurred after we learn of new information or that the consequences were something we didn't expect or want and these regrets are a result of hindsight. At the point of time, we just didn't know or we just couldn't help it even if we wanted otherwise. Of course, this isn't going to stop me from regretting but it sort of puts perspective on the whole if-I-can-turn-back-time idea.
And of course, all the unanswered questions still remains, mind-boggling enough for me to wonder for the rest of my life.
For one of the rarer periods of my life, I really detest the idea of being idle. Everyday has to be productive in its own way and I'm trying to keep myself preoccupied. Maybe it is the unconscious way of dealing with the barrage of questions and the fear of sinking into that abyss again. Now that I'm out of it, I don't think I want to be anywhere near that place again because it felt like hell and so, I'm trying.
Some of us secondary school pals met on friday. In fact everyone made the effort to turn up. There was good news as there was the bad. I guess I'm just thankful that we have cultivated and maintained a special bond that defies work schedules and tiredness and everyone cared enough to turn up.
One of the girls told me that regrets cannot be considered regrets if there is a high possibility that you would have done the same thing (without knowledge of the ensuing consequences or events) if you could go back in time. Which means that some of our regrets only occurred after we learn of new information or that the consequences were something we didn't expect or want and these regrets are a result of hindsight. At the point of time, we just didn't know or we just couldn't help it even if we wanted otherwise. Of course, this isn't going to stop me from regretting but it sort of puts perspective on the whole if-I-can-turn-back-time idea.
And of course, all the unanswered questions still remains, mind-boggling enough for me to wonder for the rest of my life.
For one of the rarer periods of my life, I really detest the idea of being idle. Everyday has to be productive in its own way and I'm trying to keep myself preoccupied. Maybe it is the unconscious way of dealing with the barrage of questions and the fear of sinking into that abyss again. Now that I'm out of it, I don't think I want to be anywhere near that place again because it felt like hell and so, I'm trying.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
In Loving Memory
Has it been exactly one week from 10th of July?
That horrible horrible day.
Words cannot fully express what I'm feeling now
Its still so very surreal
At times I feel my brain is frozen
But I'll try to get it down.
I remember first meeting you in choir,
we were only in primary 3.
despite your tender age
you played the piano with flair
and the teacher made you our official pianist
Yet you remain accomodating and humble
one of the musicals we worked together was Oliver!
and then there were the lovely sing-alongs from the Sound of Music
We were classmates in primary 5 and 6
Streaming brought us together, along with the best from our level
Looking back, I am so honoured to be part of that class because
everyone was smart, talented and funny
we were supposed to be outstanding in chinese
and we had such wonderful, kind teachers
remember the feeling we had after PSLE?
"like birds flying out of the cage"
we had to decide which school we wanted to go
and I didn't know that we opted for the same
teacher made us write a tribute to one good friend
I wrote mine to S because she was my closest friend
I recieved one from S, a few others and one from you
and it mattered because I considered you as a good friend too
I think fate, if there's anything such as it, brought us together.
Secondary 1 came and a few of us went to St Nicks
my decision to change class resulted in us being in the same class
and it was to lead to four years of being classmates
four years that made a difference to my life
four years of joy, hurt, laughter and tears
four years of gritty childishness, growing up pains and glowing aspirations
I don't think anything can beat what we went through
Joining the same eca for the same crazy reasons
burning the midnight oil on fridays just to see our reflections on our boots
toiling in the sun every saturday, getting screamed at, marching til our toes hurt and blisters sprout, running around like mad people, facing the pressure and politics, breaking down in the classroom under the watchful gaze of everyone, recieving the sort of satisfaction of hard work being paid off and experience learnt, finally getting the A we so deserved
Classrooms were another thing,
sometimes we sat together, sometimes we did not
all those times we supported each other
through lessons, homework and exams
calling each other in the midst of the night to give encouragement
in my heart always knowing that you were such an excellent student with equally stellar grades
I think I must have spent most of my recess time with you
contemplating and discussing which stall to eat from even before the bell rang
we practically went home together most of the times too
and I think these are one of the most unforgettable memories I have of us
talking when we walk out of school to the bus-stop
talking when we wait for the bus
talking when we take the same bus - 135..how can I forget?
that malfunctioning red seat that made us bounce like babies
and laugh so uncontrollably til we had tears in our eyes
Come to think of it J,
I think we had some of the funniest times together
I know you would agree
we may not be jokers in nature but put us together
something just goes off, I think its called chemistry
we can laugh at the silliest things
yet talk about anything in the world
we love exchanging knowledge
we helped each other in our work
I wonder if you knew that you made me a more enlightened person?
The most important thing was that I felt comfortable with you
We did alot of things together, especially sports
table-tennis, badminton, netball, running, canoeing
we went to camps together
faced strange, awkward and nervous situations
but the thing was, with you around I wasn't scared
Things changed after Sec 4,
most of it external circumstances and the paths we chose
there was JC, there was university and then there was work
though we didn't spend as much time as we did in previously
there were still the phone conversations. the meetups and the snail mails
I guess one thing that really stood in our way was the kind of understanding lacking,
in knowing what is exactly going in each of our lives
You were willing to tell me most things, but not everything
I didn't tell you everything
we had our reasons, to think of it,
it was probably our nature
and the fact that we thought our individual burdens
were too heavy for each other to bear
I can think about our misses
but whats important is that
even through the wear and tear of the years
those beautiful memories and dreadful experiences
we still considered each other to be an important part of our lives
This fact will never change,
not before, not now and not in the future
all these memories and recollections of you (many more than recorded here)
some still vivid and most always kept in the safebox in my head
despite the years. despite the pain. despite the memory loss.
I write this because I'm proud to have you as a friend
and this is something I don't have for just anyone
I wonder if you truly knew the extent of that?
Not satisfied with just a grade 8 piano, you took up the violin
using the money you earned from part-time jobs
You were always the hard worker,
you knew what you had to do and you gave your best
whether it was studies or work or your family
You had the ability to make people laugh
and the pity is how many people actually got to know that?
Your sincerity is geunine and I know deep down,
You are a kind person, who didn't deserve all those odds
I remember the times we went to the old folks home
trying to unravel the mystery of that unfortunate old lady
I think we had lots of adventures together
You tried to be a filial daughter, a good friend
You are a good person.
I always wished the best for you,
hoping one day things will turn around
I wished you could have that good life we talked about
I really thought it would happen.
I really really was looking forward to it.
But now you are gone,
leaving me to pick up the missing pieces.
I wish there was something that I could have done to make a difference
the hundreds and hundreds of questions pricking and prodding
waiting for the answers that will never be answered
The immediate shock, the lingering heartache and the perpetual void
The long road ahead I still have to traverse - without you.
You wrote me a letter on my birthday, you said I was your best friend
thank you for treating me as your friend
For accepting my flaws and for overlooking my shortcomings as a friend
Thank you for opening your heart
for trusting in me enough to confide in me
As I've told you in our last conversation,
I was happy to be there as a friend
you allowed me to be one.
There are so many things I want to say
its exhausive as of now
but now, I just wish
that the peace you so patiently, fervently, desperately seeked
has been acquainted with you
and my dear friend, I consider you to be someone really special
this fact will never change,
not before, not now and not in the future.
J, you will never ever be forgotten
rest in peace...
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
My Secret
when i told you
my secret
my deep, dark secret
which had been buried
in the sands of time
yet still eating away at me
when i gave that secret a voice
you listened
and when i thought it could never be
taken, away, the shame, the hurt, the guilt
you became my
divine intervention
without you,
i would not be here today
Poem manufactured by the Proletariat Poetry Factory
my secret
my deep, dark secret
which had been buried
in the sands of time
yet still eating away at me
when i gave that secret a voice
you listened
and when i thought it could never be
taken, away, the shame, the hurt, the guilt
you became my
divine intervention
without you,
i would not be here today
Poem manufactured by the Proletariat Poetry Factory
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Its hard to say goodbye
The Proletariat Poets churning out creativity.
Post-its flurry, spontaneous poetry and a fond farewell.
Its been a busy week. Managed to finish all the themed readings, a few days of intensive writing and the report, done. One thing I really love about research is the sort of intimacy you get with a contemporary issue...especially one that you might be concerned about or it could be something else you never quite realize the magnitude of. Some things in life just slip away quietly without you noticing. Then there are those that require alot of attention and action, but somehow the world just doesn't care. And of course, I'm talking about climate change.
Saturday (5/7), after school JN and I went down for an interesting event at the substation. This group called the Proletariat Poetry Factory, made up of nine people who obviously love poetry, was giving a "performance" whereby members of the public could order a poem and then pay any amount for it. All we needed to do was to submit the names of the person(s) we were dedicating the poem to and any word that is associated with the person and the poets would start churning out the poems furiously on their typewriters. I mean, how cool is that? There was also a DJ setup whereby a group of musicians called The Board of Supreme Controllers was feeding the poets with some background music. The room was pretty claustrophobic with the nine poets clad in bright red jumpsuits, armed with vintage noisy typewriters and big headphones spinning their craft at one side and the motley mix of musician types, cameramen and the walk-in public filling up the rest of the space.
I thought of a few people who could appreciate such stuff but didn't manage to get all their names down. JN and I got a poem for ourselves each and while waiting to collect them, went to check out the adjacent Peranakan Musuem. Before we left, I exchanged a few words with co-founder Miss Rachel and took a picture with her for memory sake. She seemed like a really nice, genuine sort of person.
I was still reeling from the lack of sleep over the week on sunday. A friend popped by in the evening for a chat and updated me on her diving escapades. Seemed fun but somehow I've never really taken a serious interest in diving...even though several people have asked. Diving seems to be all the rage now. The interesting part is getting close to nature but the not so interesting part is having to learn all those "skills". And I'm not sure if I'll like to carry a 46Kg tank of oxygen on my back and fiddle with all those equipment...the idea seems too challenging and troublesome.
Yesterday a few of us gathered at the airport to send MC off, who is going to further her studies down under. It was pretty emotional for me, though we barely even know each other for a year..but we've had a good times together, burning the midnight oil doing projects, having fun in class and doing silly things. She's like a burst of fresh air, sunshine to a dark room, one of those people you can never forget. The boys were like "hey relax lah.." I mean, she'll be back for vacations and I can go over to visit (though the chances are quite slim at the moment). Maybe its the general concept about people leaving. How you start thinking about the good memories, wondering if they could happen again and knowing that the chances of having the same experience is quite impossible. The months flew past and before we knew it, its over. Time to start another phase of our lives again.
The one thing that keeps all of us going is friendship. So friend, take care and I'll see you soon.
Its been a busy week. Managed to finish all the themed readings, a few days of intensive writing and the report, done. One thing I really love about research is the sort of intimacy you get with a contemporary issue...especially one that you might be concerned about or it could be something else you never quite realize the magnitude of. Some things in life just slip away quietly without you noticing. Then there are those that require alot of attention and action, but somehow the world just doesn't care. And of course, I'm talking about climate change.
Saturday (5/7), after school JN and I went down for an interesting event at the substation. This group called the Proletariat Poetry Factory, made up of nine people who obviously love poetry, was giving a "performance" whereby members of the public could order a poem and then pay any amount for it. All we needed to do was to submit the names of the person(s) we were dedicating the poem to and any word that is associated with the person and the poets would start churning out the poems furiously on their typewriters. I mean, how cool is that? There was also a DJ setup whereby a group of musicians called The Board of Supreme Controllers was feeding the poets with some background music. The room was pretty claustrophobic with the nine poets clad in bright red jumpsuits, armed with vintage noisy typewriters and big headphones spinning their craft at one side and the motley mix of musician types, cameramen and the walk-in public filling up the rest of the space.
I thought of a few people who could appreciate such stuff but didn't manage to get all their names down. JN and I got a poem for ourselves each and while waiting to collect them, went to check out the adjacent Peranakan Musuem. Before we left, I exchanged a few words with co-founder Miss Rachel and took a picture with her for memory sake. She seemed like a really nice, genuine sort of person.
I was still reeling from the lack of sleep over the week on sunday. A friend popped by in the evening for a chat and updated me on her diving escapades. Seemed fun but somehow I've never really taken a serious interest in diving...even though several people have asked. Diving seems to be all the rage now. The interesting part is getting close to nature but the not so interesting part is having to learn all those "skills". And I'm not sure if I'll like to carry a 46Kg tank of oxygen on my back and fiddle with all those equipment...the idea seems too challenging and troublesome.
Yesterday a few of us gathered at the airport to send MC off, who is going to further her studies down under. It was pretty emotional for me, though we barely even know each other for a year..but we've had a good times together, burning the midnight oil doing projects, having fun in class and doing silly things. She's like a burst of fresh air, sunshine to a dark room, one of those people you can never forget. The boys were like "hey relax lah.." I mean, she'll be back for vacations and I can go over to visit (though the chances are quite slim at the moment). Maybe its the general concept about people leaving. How you start thinking about the good memories, wondering if they could happen again and knowing that the chances of having the same experience is quite impossible. The months flew past and before we knew it, its over. Time to start another phase of our lives again.
The one thing that keeps all of us going is friendship. So friend, take care and I'll see you soon.
StopThink
-
Only when we are no longer afraid do we begin to live - Dorothy Thompson
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Heresies A Retrospective by Pedro Meyer @ The National Musuem - til Sun 16 Nov 2008
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50 Books Challenge
1) Action Speaks Louder: Violence, Spectacle, and the American Action - Eric Lichtenfeld
2) Action and Adventure Cinema - Yvonne Tasker
3) Essential Bond: Authorized Guide to the World of 007 - Lee Pfeiffer & Dave Worrall
4) Bond Girls are forever: The Women of James Bond - Maryam D'Abo & John Cork
5) Prozac Nation - Elizabeth Wurtzel
6) Veronika Decides to Die - Paulo Coelho
7) The Hours - Michael Cunningham
8) Mysteries of The Unexplained - Penguin Books
9) The Rise of The Blogosphere - Aaron Barlow
10) Blog! How The Newest Media revolution is changing politics, business and culture - David Kline & Dan Burstein
11) Clear Blogging: How people blogging are changing the world & How you can join them - Bob Walsh
12) The Rough Guide to Blogging - Jonathan Yang
13) Online News - Stuart Allen
14) We The Media: Grassroots Journalism by the people, for the people - Dan Gillmor
15) Finding Your Way After The Suicide Of Someone You Love - David Biebel & Suzanne Foster
16) The Bell Jar - Sylvia Plath
17) The Year of Magical Thinking - Joan Didion