Azure Sky

Showcase@ Play Den

2010-05-31T03:06:00.003+08:00

As surreal as this may sound, will be one playing as the second opening act for award-winning Malaysian musician Yuna. Details as stated in the event poster.

Book your diaries for 10 July!

Do come for the showcase of music from M'sia and SG =)

2010-04-30T03:14:00.002+08:00

St. Vincent Tour Videos // 10 from Alan Del Rio Ortiz on Vimeo.

St. Vincent Tour Videos // 01 from Alan Del Rio Ortiz on Vimeo.

absolutely love the series of behind-the-scenes tour videos, love the way the video was stitched and woven, the grainy, filmic, lo-fi texture and feel to them. a doe-eyed quirk up close and personal.

2010-04-03T02:28:00.000+08:00

feeling frustrated.
akin to throwing myself repeatedly against the wall which refuses to break.
how long will this take.
can't do this thing alone.

xylophone is the most underrated instrument

2010-03-21T23:53:00.003+08:00

amidst the disappointing line-up and my preposterous timing.
tokumaru was excellent.
a mad guitarist and together with the band delivered a layered symmetry of trinkets in rhythm.
i literally got high and drifted away.

the guilty pleasure finale.

another free mosaic act which played, hailing from Malaysia, Khottal. Something totally different and fresh in the scene. one of their more known songs.

current state of mind

2010-03-20T17:54:00.001+08:00

I got lost in the sounds
I hear in my mind
All these voices
I hear in my mind all these words
I hear in my mind all this music
And it breaks my heart

planning, hoping, dreaming

2010-03-13T19:22:00.001+08:00

if i can do what you do

i'd be a happy bitch

burning all ends

2010-03-01T01:22:00.002+08:00

whatever i do will never be enough

i will fall short regardless

sick of you making me feel guilty

that i am apparently selfish

am tired of care-taking

afterall is there anyone to do it in return

sick of feeling stretched

stretched

slippery as the south pole

2010-02-28T02:02:00.002+08:00

the real ones

the wrong ones

throw silence to the moon

babble speak

to those in tune

the real ones

the wrong ones

waivering in trace

edges fall

with you

2010-02-21T23:47:00.000+08:00

plug in plug out

2010-02-19T00:13:00.004+08:00

belief and trust are the hardest things to master innit and yet the foundation for everything, in things, people, ideas, yada yada.

i wonder the point of talking anymore sometimes, does it even matter.

so maybe sometimes i'm just a reclusive spazz.

anyway, have been doing some open mics and random gigs here and there. Promised myself to just get out there and just play even if i havn't got all pieces of the puzzle together.

Played at the Market of Artists and Designers (MAAD) at Red Dot, which was so chill and much fun. Felt like playing your backyard filled with your neighbours and frens. A warm bunch of passionate artists and creative people. Got to be still-life models for a mass still-life drawing session which was a hilarious experience. Got bored staying still so I played an impromptu second set for the illustrators. Cute stuff got drawn of us. Haha they "cantik-fied" us in there illustrations. I need to scann them up when i don't have one...damn..Anyone can join the session apprently and if ppl like it they can buy the piece and money goes to the illustrator.

Newae you can check them out - the Organisation of Illustrators Council":

http://www.oicsingapore.com/wordpress/

Got some performances coming up:

Sat, 20 Feb@ Jurong Regional Library, 4.30-5.30pm

- a short acoustic event by Boredtothecore Records

Sat, 27 Feb@ Raffles City Shoppng Centre, 8pm onwards (slot tbc)

Noise Singapore Festival Showcase Open Mic Night

So yeah...plugged~

Realise the best part on playing is seeing people smile. Yet it leaves an aftertaste - the mere mortality of existence.

good night world.

2010-02-16T22:06:00.001+08:00

keep sane now.

o-yeah

2010-01-14T01:36:00.006+08:00

A water spitting fountain. A yoga guru who’ll put your limber heart to shame.
A mic-eating frenzy. Growling assaults that make Bon Jovi sound like Mini Me. Grunts that belonged in the bedroom. Saying Singapore so sexily ya actually want to be Singaporean. A colossal onslaught of hard-hitting riffs, beats and synths amalgamating in distortion heaven, from an essentially two-man outfit. A neon adorned Indian chief cajoling every single kilohertz of sonic bliss to reverberate across each inch of impossibly untouched space.

Gave in the zone new meaning.

In O’s own words “The most Hyyysteric everrr”

searching for the elusive unicorn

2009-12-28T15:28:00.001+08:00

Amsterdam Acoustics - Erlend Øye (Kings of Convenience) - Mrs. Cold / Ask (The Smiths) from Mokummercials on Vimeo.

2009-12-21T02:49:00.003+08:00

I finally did it. no matter how small. even when murphy's law struck, i stuck to my guns.
even when this happened:

personally the night meant a lot to me. looking forward to 2010.

2009-12-07T18:27:00.002+08:00

maybe if i whisper you'll hear me

foto-ject

2009-11-18T11:21:00.003+08:00

Fleshing out dreamy landscapes
Watercoloured cliches of the land we are in
We ogle at the beautiful people
Who walk past our cobble-stoned street

My mornings are spent there
Watching shopkeepers welcome the world in
Corporates bike their way to work
Our favourite book-keeper
Humming a foreign tune

We spend the cool nights at that veranda
Peranakan inpsired mosaic
A reminder perharps
Admiring lantern street lights which
Illuminate just enough to cast
Silhouettes of lovers
For our voyueristic souls

We play guessing games on how long
They've been together
The philandering half
Their unspoken rules
The ambiguity of silences
The smell of grilled treats
From street side stalls below
Fills the backdrop of our bellies

A thousand miles away
We can stay like this

Beyond the Stasis
April 2009

taking the wrong train never gets old - uncanny song about me

2009-10-15T22:25:00.002+08:00

I took the train going the wrong way again
Something’s happening inside my brain
I was thinking about something else again
I took the train going the wrong way again
I just dunno what is happening, I can see but I’m just not listening
I was thinking about something else again
I was thinking about me again
Maybe in a month, probably in a year or two
I’ll be back to normal, I swear that to you
She goes on and on and on, about me
There’s no one else but me honestly
Oh no she does an awful thing
I lost my wallet back home again
There’s something happening inside my brain
Threw my keys in the trashbin, then it was think about me again
Talking talking no one, listen listening

*Sweden, Norway!!What is in the water.....strawberries maybe...I wanna twee!*

tactile hostile

2009-09-12T11:03:00.004+08:00

'why do people tell lies, half-truths, white lies, non-revelations'
'Maybe they're afraid to reveal them, cause it might change people's perception of them. Something they're embarrased about'

been a grappling point to the point i realise its not healthy and possibly affecting relationships with people around me. probably a skeleton in my closet, which i tot I had shipped out long ago. trying not to think much of it, but i need to be able to trust. in a way, the above behaviour is akin to cheating on a certain level no? but the assumption therein lies in the extent of expectations and nature of all the type of "ships" we have with people. if that is so, then i should cease to expect anything to save being on the receiving end of the above and potential bruise. yes,that should be it.

when i trust people, naturally you let them in, and by logic you will be vulnerable.
i m naive, i agree but thats cos i think the best of a person. so these days maybe im more fearful of opening up, of being vulnerable, of potential bruises. Cos i know that when i do trust, i will give it my all. An imbalanced tipping scale, which i don't want to be on. But some how I know deep down i still will. so this attitude has to change plus changing the goalposts of expectations.

disappointment is as long as its name. Yet there's still an end after T. i can choose to wait for the end or choose to refuse feeling crushed anymore.
setbacks only make you stronger, even if they repeat themselves. the latter it is.

the send off

2009-09-06T18:23:00.003+08:00

Full circle it has come you say
Stay strong
Our prayers are with you

before sunrise

2009-08-23T22:58:00.004+08:00

m always grumpy waking up at before sunrise for sahur.its like a mad scramble of pots and pans just before the time to not eat starts. and i have a penchant for getting into squabbles cos put it simply i m lazy of the hassle to get food served on the table. seriously just eat bread cannot ah. wa lau eh. anyway, random things on the first day of sahur/puasa.

#1) was damn dehydrated and thirsty on the first day, felt like a camel who was about to have my period-cos i get damn thristy before-the whole day was damn hot and all i wanted was to drink ribena. and of course i had to pass the ahballing stall and all i wanted was ahballing. and then while trying to find french loaf cos was tasked to cook roti john i saw tar sau piah and from then i wanted to eat tar sau piah...weakness...usually m so not this neh neh. must have been the first day of puasa and the blazing heat.

#2) so for sahur next day forced myself to drink a few glasses of water, while being sulky cos i had to clean up the pots and pans afterwards, and being in semi-dazed stoned state. i stared blankly at the wall gg thru the routine of drinking my water and my mind pandered - so this must how it felt, albeit sliver of a glimmer, of how the POWs during Jap Occupation were tortured by being forced to guzzle gallons of water while their stomaches were trampled on. Torture by water...fascinating.

#3)while moodily washing up all the grease and plates,etc. again my mind pandered how would the feminist of her time, coco would react. wat acerbic retort wud she have spewed. and i could see audrey tatou starring at me with her cynical world- weary face as in the movie.

#4) while gg back under the covers, in the dark i dozily caught sight of my lil sis holding something in her hands on the bed. It was luminous bright red, and glowing in her hands. My first thought, and i seriously believed it for a moment was - eh how come she got a glowing kueh ah pam (sp?) So cool red coloured kueh ah pam, glowing, so clever hide for herself one isit. reminded me of the ah pam cake the chinese sometimes offer to their Gods, placed alongside joss-sticks at the altars and sometimes by the pavements. I oso want to eat!!! even tho i dun really fancy kueh ah pam.
.
.
.
only after a while did i realise she was holding the alarm clock.

your pretty wings

2009-08-13T23:00:00.002+08:00

after 8 years, a trilogy nonetheless. the man is sex in a voice.
probably the true heir to marvin gaye, with the signature neo soul twist.
Oh Ms Hill, where have u been hiding..?

lennon or barnes

2009-08-09T11:23:00.002+08:00

2009-08-07T15:39:00.000+08:00

First Of The Gang To Die by Zee Avi

Bila

2009-08-03T08:14:00.004+08:00

perkataan dan diagnosis
menguris hatiku dengan ketepatannya
seperti segumpal darah yang beku, tersemat di jiwaku
tanpa nama, yang telahku coba megupas ertinya

awoke from non-sleep, drenched in sweat
vommitting out yesterday's excesses
asthma's byproduct, with a cocktail of phlegm
playing partners with my working mind
had i been sleeping through it all

words hit home and i realise the name
i realise what it really is, it's partly true yet
only an identified chip from the whole
i've been going about my business, feeling numb
i've been doing things i enjoy, feeling numb
admit i was attempting to recreate hapiness
moments which have been "happy moments" to me
this is not to say that i'm wholly in a negative state
it is not boredom then
it is about being joyful, or rather the lack thereof
hapiness is an elusive state, it is not an entity in itself
being joyful comes from within, it doesn't ask for more
it comes from acceptance and hope in the distance
it doesn't need external manisfestation or physical affirmation
yet all the components you choose to constitute your life
are sources of its derivation and fuel
its about being joyful that you have a chance at living; at making change;
at adding value to the world; to your world; to others; to second, third, nth chances, believing in the things you do
would it then be the composition and recomposition of these components
that brings renewal, that is something to figure out
i've seen the change
how she's grown and learnt
and i see it
it was always just the company
that's all that was enough

the dilemma of the essential human condition - reconciling our oscillating ends

2009-07-29T00:15:00.007+08:00

Beaming
Creative Chatter
Meditative Ease

Comfortable worn-in silences
Minuscule footsteps
Encapsulated in tiny voices

Little projects around the house
Chaotically endearing
We call them our inspirons

Who cast shadows
On our past selves
A future never envisaged

You
Got me
In a saddle stitch
I won't let go

Alien.Nation.

2009-07-08T23:01:00.006+08:00

for the unexpected bursts of breakdowns in midst of work
for when faced with bad days
for when all you need is someone to talk to but naught
for when all you can do is turn inward
maybe this will bring some cheer

this has got to be the cutest and fun thing to do :)

Gravity's a possessive bed

2009-07-06T12:20:00.004+08:00

an objective subjectivity

2009-07-02T20:55:00.007+08:00

~The most interesting faces generally oscillate between charm and crookedness. There is a tyranny about perfection, a certain tedium even, something that asserts itself with all the dogmatism of a scientific formula. The more tempting kind of beauty has only a few angles from which it may be seen, and then not in all lights and at all times. It flirts dangerously with ugliness, it takes risks with itself, it does not side comfortably with mathematical rules of proportion, it draws its appeal from precisely those details that also lend themselves to ugliness.~

i'll take understated over accessibility, it lingers unexpectedly

hold your own//know your name

2009-06-11T21:32:00.004+08:00

at times when in doubt

dig deep

to the defining essence of who you are

to the things you know and nothing else

to the things you hold true

to these special things that God has lent you

and it will be fine

it will be

"Are your thoughts result of static cling"

of whimsies

2009-05-31T11:33:00.003+08:00

Tucked in a corner on Fitzroy
Off the beaten track
Where our scarlet shophouse resides
Nestled amongst the creative hub of
Eclectic eateries
Bustling boutiques
Avant-garde artisans
Humble themselves in
Our little red dot
A centrepiece
In this colourful Kildanian tapestry

Hand stictched books
Adorn the off-white walls
In house murals of friends
Stand six feet tall
The scent of fresh java permeates this abode
An ode - to the love in living poured each day
Endless indie streaming on open mic nights

Our red emblem
Oh, how we love the irony

no excuses timeout

2009-05-07T07:10:00.005+08:00

I'm sorry.
For my actions, behaviour, and words.
There is no excuse.
If i did hurt you.
All the many times.
I accept and retreat with humble pie.
I'm sorry.

the crispy fried pepper

2009-05-03T22:11:00.004+08:00

watched Cats the musical yesterday and i admit was a tad apprehensive about seeing a musical *actually the Cats look scary in pictures*, plus was feeling nauseous prior. But it was good! Totally entertaining, music sets back to back, funky costumes and great seats. Throughout the show the actors propped themselves on the foyer stalls' barricade right smack in front of our face. talk about interactive. i was actually smiling and laughing throughout. At one point I actually felt like owning a cat!

Couple of tots entered my mind:

the actors were soooo in character, as nimble and agile as the feline species themselves. every single gesture, the way they glided, nua-ed and lazed around on stage, on people *haha* totally mirrored real cats. Which got me thinking, were these actors cat-loving owners as well? How long they must have spent pouring over every single detail, gestures and mannerisms of cats? Wah how ah method acting like that? What species of cat they had to study diligently to mimic their characteristics? Whether the actors were really cat lovers?

the amazing vocal prowess and range of the thespians!! was shaking my head when the high notes were reached and the perfectly harmonised singing of everyone! how tough is that, singing in tune yourself already susah, wah lau eh more than 20 ppl is like wow.
Which again led my mind to think, no wonder the dolphin-octaved Adam Lambert from American Idol is mind-blowingly talented as he is! He's kinda hot *haha in a gay/andro way*, entertaining, engaging and not to mention his ball-busting vocal range that would put Tina Turner to shame. Liddat not fair mah.

and no i'm not thinking too much *i hope*. these imagined conversations pop into my head.

2009-05-03T21:18:00.006+08:00

We're From Barcelona - I'm From Barcelona

more missing tracks on ffffoundtape

2009-05-01T00:47:00.002+08:00

Gunhild - I'm From Barcelona

if i let you out is it alright

its only water in your eyes

its only words out of my mouth

its only you i want to find

who says organising is cathartic

2009-04-23T13:25:00.003+08:00

Rummaging through my drawers filled with crap, paper, bills, paper, notebooks, notes, memorabilia, paper, photos, negatives, CDs and stuff I realize:

1. There are a lot of things and moments that I miss

2. I am morphing into a scrap paper whore rather than a notebook whore. Thing is more pieces of paper are accumulating. Shit. Yellow lined paper rocks as do office supplies!

3. My organizer drawers are way beyond “organized” that I can’t find stuff. Heck I forget where I even put the keys to my wardrobe drawer which contains my passport and other important stuff. Which reminds me I need to renew my passport or I can say sayonara to flying anywhere. *first thing, find the keys*

4. If I have my own room it would probably be worse than a junkyard.

5. I really have no idea where some of my stuff are

6. I’m actually living in organized chaos despite the facade of a clean room, more of a knee-jerk reaction to stop the wailing siren of the domestic matriarch. My mind actually works in organized chaos in keeping things

Which got me thinking could Singapore ever exist in an organised chaos? The systems, mechanism of doing things are structured. At a work visit, a passionate youth worker mentioned that ‘organised chaos doesn’t exist in the Singapore’s dictionary’, in comparing how a flexible, non-formal and non-overly structured US system can produce such effective programs based on simple ideas and organic mechanisms. Just dance, just paint and generate natural interest rather than mandated, contrived ideas, programs and implementation mechanisms. Of course this is based on the principle of a civic-minded community. Can we.

Now where is that damn book that started this whole exercise!

p.s. messy is good, don't let anyone say otherwise to you :)
________________________________

Changes they come in numbers,
Yet the only constant thing is my inherent bouts of calamity.

ms calamity scene 1

Rushing to get to a wedding, I got out of the shower to get something from my room. In a hurry, I slipped and fell like nangka busuk. And I tell u it hurt like hell. But no it wasn’t the wailing that awoke d snoozing sister but my loud thud. Sprawled on the floor, my sis woke up with squinting eyes, looked at me, smacked her forehead and went back to sleep. Thanks ah.

Thing is the next day I realized I had a blue-black blood clot on my arm the size of two eggs. And I didn’t even hit that part of my arm. It’s still on my arm after 2 weeks, which I hope would go away. The responses range from, “What did you do? I don’t wanna know what you do in ur spare time”, “wah, you kinky hor”, “let me rub it, if not the oceh will run and spread to your face *nice try*” to “you mean u were naked when you fell?!? (Which elicited a familiar sounding response in my head à “You mean Chinese eat cow’s tongues?!?”)
Of course, I didn’t do anything and let the bugger disappear from my arm. Of all my years of breaking things, falling down and such, this has left an imprint, literally.

ms calamity scene 2
Went to a wedding, more like forced to. Someone from the great matriach’s posse left a foldable wooden fan on my table. Was waiting for the inane conversations and social niceties/updates to end when I started twiddling with the abandoned fan cos it was soooo bloddy hot (like 34degrees!) and the fan looked like it came from the traditional art institutes of Bali (like as if I know rite, but that’s the visual that popped in me head man). Right upon opening the fan, I broke one of the folds of it. Great.

Next thing I knew, while twiddling with the decapitated member, it fell into my-oh-so-bloody-sweet-teh which I really do believe had 0.1% of tea and 99.9% of condensed milk *bleurgh*. Never abandon your things around me. Hohoho.

Best thing was convincing the bro to drink the contaminated the cause it was oh so delicious. Nice.

Yes, if anything that hasn’t changed, it has to be this.

Blood

2009-03-18T10:41:00.003+08:00

I really hope that I did the right thing. Somehow there's still a paranoid suspicion lingering on, that I dun believe in the truth of the whole situation. That I may be getting only snippets of the truth. I just hope that the trust and faith I have placed will not be betrayed, the track record has consistently shown otherwise. And I didn't think I was that nice too, but I guess its in me to look out for people, especially those I care for, even if the returns are naught. We'll see when the time comes to stick to those words.

I believe that my life's gonna see
The love I give return to me

brush it off my shoulder

2009-03-10T22:41:00.002+08:00

To shit of a week indeed.
I just wanna dance:

dancing through night, dancing through the days~

Those Dancing Days - Those Dancing Days

hitten - Those Dancing Days

happy thoughts

2009-02-09T20:13:00.003+08:00

am sick and all i can think about is inch-thick pancakes with raspberries and blueberries, drizzled with copious amounts of maple syrup served on a big white plate with a tall glass of orange juice, for Sunday brunch?!?!

and there wasn't any mix at home nor can i be bothered to make anything from scratch, or for that matter can anyone be bothered to make anything for me...so i proceeded to make kaya toast instead..close as it can get i suppose and plonk myself in front of the food channel.

see i believe than when the food you have sucks, have a craving for good food or when home food isn't all that tasty to say the least, take your mish-mash and watch the food channel. And i tell you it tastes much better, just imagine your eating what's on TV. Essentially its food porn. this trick has gotten me through a few gastronomically unpleasant days.

Why can't there be IHOP in spore :(
*pancakes...pancakes..* *Double Blueberry! Butterscotch Rocks!*

*sniffles*

popcorn anyone?

2009-02-08T01:34:00.004+08:00

the reader and benjamin buttn got me thinking about a few things. one thing that tugged at them strings was the concept of enduring love or enduring pain? whichever side of the fence that you wish to plonk urself on. how is it that some people are that you meet at a certain point of time, albeit briefly, leave such an indelible impression for that moment that you carry them throughout life's journey. the tears wellled up in ralph fiennes' eyes when asked by the holocast survivor regarding his relation to winslet's character needed no explanation at all. And for that brief moment you could see all the pain of the past joy (in a brief summer) encapsulated in that silence.

how we fall and let ourselves fall knowing the self-destructible outcomes is the risk of leaping on faith's pitch. so we learn and break, produce a generation of cynics, who wedge distance between selves, fail to believe in happy endings, who remain guarded.

some say that its not enduring love but being in love with the person/situation in past memory, not the present or the possible future; or another view is holding on to the pain, an addiction to pain that you indulge yourself in; or maybe its just a soft spot moulded in a context of that time. whatever it is, it is amazing how an indelible impression formed through unrivalled chemistry is cast upon heartsleeves, will never be replicated but instead used as benchmarks that automatically fails those subsequently. we know we should'nt but we do it don't we?

the stories reflect how people reassume their past roles, their past selves in relation to each other. and at the points of revisiting these selves, we catch on from what was left behind, cut off, fumbled through, hastily forgotten and never realised.

we can go round in circles, looking for answers, favourable outcomes, plausible explanations but some things we have no control over, some things we can't force, yet it is all these things that matter. so we resume our journeys trying to catch ourselves every now and again when we falter or know that we can't trust ourselves from refraining.

it may be a cliche that life is neither white or black but shades of grey, which is exactly why we treck the troughs of the headaches, heartaches and injustices. for there will be peaks, however brief they may be, we can only be glad/grateful to have had those moments and that those special people shared a good part of themselves with us.

unspoken sensibility

2009-01-11T13:39:00.003+08:00

maybe your right, i have been unwittingly pushing people away
they've done nothing to deserve any hostility or my suspicions
unknowingly, trust is a haunting abyss i never filled
is it so hard to open a heart

amazing ponggol II

2009-01-05T00:20:00.007+08:00

so finally after days of planning, cancellation and scheduling we did have our annual end year gathering. somehow fanna and my idea for a picnic held sway and despite the sticky scheduling and place we did end up somewhere quite nice and off the beaten track.

so plans for changi turned to pasir ris and otw while i was abt to pick the rest up and in the midst of frantic smses to change plans.....it had to rain at p.ris and changi..im amazed that i didnt crash into someone (judging by my astigmatised filtered driving these days) while multitasking-ly flipping thru the street directory cos all i kno of changi is the chagi village-nasi lemak-tranny area, smsing the change of plans to those who were coming later and those coming later than later, answering phonecalls while chugging redbull cos i had 3 hrs of sleep the nite before. pandai.

well at least there's no theme or wateva color code (fanna i refuse to admit that im color blind, say wat u want :P). So wen i did pick up the peeps at tanah merah im gld that there were helpers to do the calls and credit to isha's great idea ponggol it is. Luckily a Ponggolian was in the midst after the previous harrowing experience in twilight zone ponggol. On the way there tho i had to pee soo badly and i only had 1 redbull (wassup w the bladder these days).

*I'm thinking its either here (stopped by ponggol plaza) or the bushes in ponggol swampland*

so we stopped by the side of the road (yellow zig zag line) and i go:

Me: i gotta pee
Isha the rest: huh? really. where
Me: eerm ya...im not gonna pee in the sea. this shopping centre sure got rite

Farin: *pointing out to the event tentage* how bout those portable toilets there. *everyone chimes in and agrees* (yes Farin i kno u deal w a lot of events and a prolly c no diff btw a real toilet and a portable one....wait are they even called portable toilets?? dis sounds funny...)

Me: im not gonna pee there (i tot they were joking). u guys wait in the car anything call me.

So there were 4 girls in the car, parked illegally by the side of the road while i went scurrying to find a toilet in this barren place. I literally ran from the car to the toilet and back. I felt like Marion Jones making the 100m dash while high on d*pe and red bull. Once back in the car i spotted a red ant on my thigh and swatted it away. Farin spotted another one a while later and they were beginning to think where the hell did i pee (since it was quite fast). Yes i peed in the bushes thinking it was a toilet bowl and stepped on an anthill otw.

quote worthy:

isha: yeah thats singapore over there. can see the fireworks.

razif n saddiq: no thats johor

isha: huh im sure its singapore. i tot i saw fireworks the other time
razif n saddiq: no its johor la.. seriously

isha: really ah

(Note to Fanna n Farin: Now this is where i shud say "Seberang Tambak" w/o being mistaken for Sabah. Accurate point of reference)

*actually ah if the ponggol jetty is just beside us...then isnt that pulau Ubin?!? i remember taking the ferry to OBS from here*

thanks for the food and all and d cute cameo of lil rayyan. wokaay whose doing the next..i pass. ho ho ho.

whipped

2009-01-04T20:25:00.005+08:00

after gg thru a first kinda fotoshoot, i realise how much i suck. my goodness, not only do u have to contend with the unpredictable elements like mozzies, the hide and seek sun, rolling around in dirt, mud, grass etc and others like the mood of the model, lenses, light, composition, etc.

yes only 2 persons is never enuf, now we kno y ther's the creative director, assistants, and photographer. and i definitely suck at the creative tot process. so much for androgynous pasty zomb look due to my lack of directive skills(nonexistant), it came out cosplay-meets-bai ling meets-"hanoi bride love you long time time". yes..research is the key to everything be it the look, props, location (that's y there are experts in each field), visual refernces, storyboard.

being unprepared n uncertain is a no no. i kno much to //ilng's chargrin partly due to the mozzies haha, she was waiting for directives, this is esp impt for ppl who are not used to modelling. be that a lesson for me. i wonder how she even got thru w/o ripping my head off. i bet a million curses were muttered under her breath.

actually the better cute shots were candid goofball ones when we decied to just give up trying to hard and just let loose. im amazed that the lass cud even pose some haute couture-ish poses since she hated them so. not bad for a siao char bor ah lian. full marks for the effort, game-ness to tahan my tak leh make it shoot.

at least we tried it out ourselves b4 putting other ppl thru it. Many lessons learnt from this tho tiring but fun nonetheless.

"only when we're young"

serpihan sinaran

2008-12-21T02:31:00.003+08:00

setiap hari ku merentasi jembatan ini
kau selalu di ingatan
seperti mentari yang menyinari hidupku

drive me home

2008-12-12T01:21:00.000+08:00

my head must be up in my ass crack
what was i thinking, I could have lost the damn thing
my heart is still in my mouth
shaken....slap me hard so i'll wake up and never do it again
kill myself at the thought of what could've happen

drive me home tonight
i don't wish to be in the driver's seat

lead me away

2008-12-12T00:52:00.000+08:00

Blue Sands - Yuna

a year wiser

2008-12-04T02:14:00.003+08:00

you told me so a gazillion times
so i'll rein in my capacity to give
like how you hypothesize your anti-thesis
cast this in online print
lest i forget

And it'll be just as quiet
As it was when I first got here
I don't expect anything to change when I leave

trou-ba-dour

2008-11-23T13:58:00.003+08:00

Sleep, don't weep, my sweet love
Your face is all wet and your day was rough
So do what you must do to find yourself
Wear another shoe, paint my shelf
Those times that I was broke, and you stood strong
I think I found a place where I will

Sleep, don't weep, my sweet love
Your face is all wet cause our days were rough
So do what you must do to fill that hole
Wear another shoe to comfort the soul
Those times that I was broke, and you stood strong
I think I found a place where I feel I will

Sleep, don't weep, my sweet love
My face is all wet cause my day was rough
So do what you must do to find yourself
Wear another shoe, paint my shelf
Those times that I was broke, and you stood strong
I hope I find a place where I feel I belong

Sleep, don't weep, my sweet love

Staying Incognito

2008-11-19T16:08:00.000+08:00

you fail on me again
now I fear releasing the trigger
everything framed is lost
dissolved imprints in my feeble mind
realise I’m never meant to own it
eludes me - concealed even in negative
i’m out of breath for this
an undocumented disappointment

i relent and can never contend
be myself and hope it’s enough
all that I have to offer
that I’m etched in your cold steel heart
whatever I’ve been and done will never fulfil
i relent and can never contend
with number one

Always,
The Nth place

rem paralysis

2008-11-15T13:59:00.004+08:00

i had a dream of a photo collage.
interestingly my collage was on teh tarik...wth. There were photos on the art of teh tarik making
with the quintessential sarbat stall man in tow.
funnily there were also shots of the teh tarik glass suspended in mid air, spinning in mid air, the glass doing a somersault matrix-esque still pose....frothy and dirty...

haha...my dreaming must have been inspired by pl's animation project and talk about teh tarik "tulen" w y and her friend and that i gotta start cracking on my photo essay.
seriously....wth....

on another note i realise ideas are precious, its so hard to think of ideas that mean something, that evoke any emotive response at all...sometimes, most times i draw a blank even when forcing them out. a new way of thinking for me n start believing more in d self.
at least i know i have the most non-sensical and imaginative dreams....if i can remember penning them down and decide where i should even pen them in -(i.m.a.notebook.whore.who.loves.separating.different.creative.works) - dun ask why.

d'man with insane falsetto is back

2008-11-09T01:55:00.004+08:00

"in your twenties your just a sketch of what your trying to be"

kasih...rahsia...

2008-11-08T22:53:00.004+08:00

wish i paid attention in MT class
how to write ditties in native tongue w/o sounding lame
shit.

as long as the barrage of words

2008-11-05T01:21:00.000+08:00

Determined to get some decent shots, I decided to head down to the Marina Barrage *yes…yawn inducing* This was only cos I realized my camera may have a max range in taking fast action shots (so the skatepark was out). So we work within our means right. Besides the looming economic crisis, I’m news illiterate and had no freaking idea it was the opening…yes that’s how oblivious I am….

Volunteers asked us to gather at one side for them to bring us to the shuttle bus area ---wic was bout 200-300m away (if u believe my great estimation and numerical sense). I whipped out my camera and bumbled on in line with the other eager beavers to check out this spectacle of a water facility. We were left by the side of a road surrounded by construction sites, dust, dust and more dust. The volunteers vanished man….

Waited in line while the freaking line grew longer and longer by the minute with no bus in sight. Families with children, uncles and aunties (90% of the place was filled with our senior citizens man….the govt shouldn’t worry the senior’s are very active…im like wth…everywhere I turn I tell you~).

Btw, I get talked to a lot by random strangers - mostly they ask me directions, wic I gladly oblige. So this was a new experience. I figure its my congenial face, either that or I have “Please direct your verbal diarrhea to me” stamped all over my face, when I can’t be bothered to engage in small talk even. So it goes (in short):

Auntie: *upon seeing me snap away* Are you from the press?
Me: No I’m not. Just shooting for fun.
Auntie: U take picture many many good. Can put in the newspapers. We wait for 30mins oredi, all the buses full. Terrible I tell you. You see the line grow longer. Take picture then can complain in the papers about the organizers. The organizers terrible I tell you.
Me: Oh isit.

Suddenly, Auntie #2 standing on my right turned around, obviously couldn’t help hearing the outburst of Auntie#1 goes:

Auntie#2: Ya lor…so long leh we wait…you see queue so long…
Auntie#1: take picture, take picture!
Another man and two uncles in front of me start to talk to me to complain as well!!

Auntie #1: *still relentless in wanting to satiate her constipated complaints* Are you working? (….wth….now where is this going) Are you a teacher?
Me: Yes, I’m working. No I’m not a teacher.
Auntie#1: Wah lau….the govt say S’pore clean and green…Where got…see all the dust and toxic fumes from all these trucks…Someone should complain ah….den fine all these trucks…
Me: ……ah……

Auntie#2: *mumbling on and on abt sumthing i couldnt be bothered to hear or rather Auntie#1 more loudspeaker*
Auntie#1: So you teacher? *OMG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Ground Hog Day can!!!* U freelance photographer ah?

Me: ......No......so u ley u working? You freelance complainer ah...?

Auntie#1: ya ya i walk walk around then complain.....freelance walker....What you study in school?
Me: I did sociology….
Auntie#1: Oh goood! So you can write to the papers and complain about the organizers. Take picture, take picture!

At this point I was getting agitated *understatement* and claustrophobic, being sandwiched between Aunties and Uncles who understandably were pissed, hot and irritable. I decided to ditch the line, took a public bus and escape the litany of senior citizen “spit-fire” gibberish. Started shooting away at people (I love zoom lens!)…a group of Malay uncles saw me snapping and shouted:

Pakciks: Oii….where you from? Berita Minggu? Berita Harian? Yay….take picture take picture!
Me: *I just smiled and ignored them for a while but realize photo op is a photo op. They want picture, I take* Oh no….from….*wat other freaking Mly papers are there*…..from Sensasi (a cable channel, wic I dun even subscribe to)
Pakciks: Wah……Sensasi…..take picture!

So they actually posed for me….haha….they were dead bored I guess guarding the humongous hills of red goodie-bags under the sweltering heat.

The place was a buzzing hive of activity (throngs of senior citizens and families) and littered with photo enthusiasts. Nice shots of water, and kids portraits (they are very cute I tell you). Should go back there with a tripod (sadly I dun have one yet) cos the city skyline at night is a beauty.

Transport back to the mrt really sucked. Queues for free shuttle buses were loooong, not enough public buses were plying and some gave up and walked more than 2km to the mrt. Was soo pissed that the cab I called didn’t know how to get to d ulu place, the bus finally came after an hour and had to force two-bus loads of people waiting at the bus-stop (super pissed - I didn’t pay the fare).

So good luck to the Corp Comms depts. of NEA, SMRT and LTA (wat freaking rule isit dat taxis can only stop b4 or after bustop...u check ah siao!)….The auntie mafia will skin u alive…

Signing off,

Unofficially appointed mouthpiece of Auntie Mafia

Missing everything, Everything's missing

2008-10-27T15:36:00.006+08:00

Recollect. Sharpened memories
Unassuming windowpanes of wrecked desire
Replayed as epitaphs of framed beginnings

Lightly resting on begonias, the summer’s lusts paints
A caricature of this pale afternoon’s amnesia
Us as canvas to the day’s undoing

Beguiling tongues linger upon unexplored crevices
Unlocking secrets
With the tip of touch

Bronze the colour of skin
Yours, illume against mine
Let’s catch the light between us
Incandescent flickering of lucky stars – chosen to be found

Repose my trust within your words
Divulge the intimate
I bear sole witness

//pinhole roid

2008-10-22T20:47:00.003+08:00

run away, run away like a prodigal

don't you wait for me, don't you wait for me

so ashamed that i need you so

and you wait for me, and you wait for me

strike three

2008-10-16T01:05:00.004+08:00

it amazes me how time and again people use me for their own purposes
for the temporary taking and leave it by the wayside thereafter
best part is how i let them, blinded by earnestness and naivety
only to realise when it starts to sting
perpetual, withdrawn i've become
am i that useable
gullible fool

the long walk

2008-10-14T00:05:00.001+08:00

It
was
just
circumstantial

Ah Lians and Uncle Mike

2008-10-05T12:58:00.002+08:00

I.AM.SUPER.PISSED that my Agfa Ct Precisa prints were not cross processed!!!!
Went to try out a new place, Fotohub at Liang Seah instead of Triple D at Burlington Sq. The place looked spiffy and professional but was served by this Ah Lian who didn’t seem to know her photography shit. Its like hello, I gave her the slide film to be cross processed but it turned out NORMAL. I might as well have used normal non-slide film and had to pay quite a fair bit just to develop and scan.

Should have known better. Was asking Ah Lian what kind of colours and tones would the other films they sold turn out like and she was like …..crik….crik…crik….
*Hello Earth to Ah Lian, u work here dun u know!?!?!* Blur liao…
Am not going back there even though its more accessible than Triple D.

Contrast this to the ever-friendly, patient Uncle Mike who helms the Triple D photo shop. Now he knows his shit off the top of his fingers. I can safely trust him with my beloved prints. Just pass it to him, no questions and he knows to cross-process the bloody slide film. Heck even his school going son knows it, like duh.

Uncle Mike is so cool that he even bothers to load ur film for you, advise on getting the right exposures and the types of film. Yes, he may have a poodle of a Phua Chu Kang hairdo (wic works for him cutely), thinks that the lomo fad’s a phase and that lomographers are crazy loopies but he gets it right for an affordable price.

So unsatisfying…urgh. The Clarke Quay photos would turn out so much cooler with cross processing man =(

aaaaarhrhrhrhaghaghaghagrhhhhhMMAAKKKAAAUUUhghagrhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

…..pek cek…..

Bring on the delectable food and money....

2008-10-02T14:22:00.001+08:00

Embracing Syawal

2008-10-02T14:21:00.000+08:00

The month’s left us and with it the passing of reflection and solitude. Its been a prolonged, drawn out fight and the past month has been kind. Peace had been elusive, slipping out of grasp at every turn. The void was filled with sources of anesthesia, hastily picking at straws banking on choosing the shortest way out.

Consistency of the daily grind, the wedge of time and distance leads us to forget, forget others and their tales at navigating through the unfathomable workings of life. As we herald in Syawal, its time to bridge lost ties, reconnect, reinvigorate malaise spirits, forgive and be forgiven for times that we faltered and thank dear ones whom we have borrowed shoulders and showered us with love, hoping that we can repay them with ours.

So forgive the selfish, the non-existence, the non-commitance, the forgetting, piercing words, the unspoken thoughts, the envy, the expectations, the falling short of expectations, the breaking of promises.

If the essence of being is love,
Being present is being love,
For love is how and why life is.

DIY Babe-Mobile

2008-09-25T16:28:00.006+08:00

the air has been filled lately with the births and babies. a friend's upcoming delivery's due anytime soon and what better way to commemorate the occasion than a baby shower of sorts. Just the phrase "baby" warrants an oh-so-wholesome *goo goo.....gaa gaa....*outburst doesn't it.

Ever the task oriented ppl, the duties were delegated with clockwork efficiency. Being the unemployed bummer that i am, i decided to volunteer my "creative help" around considering ppl do have day jobs to be at. wandering our way around the streets of bugis in search of inspiration n materials for "deco", scratching our heads as to wth the latter constitutes, Nad and I had a "are u thinking what i'm thinking moment" after visiting one of the party stores there.

Armed with our newfound creative mojo, idealistic illusions that we were actually creative, courage to start thinking out of the box (quite a feat for one civil servant plus a former gahmen) and a budget of $30, we started scouring ABC-Value for money stores for tools and materials. So here is an atempt to create our version of a Baby Mobile (yes, Nad its not a Baby Chandelier, tho that sounds cute too).

Equipment/Materials need:

Your mum's clothes hanging pins thingy for drying clothes
Balloons of ur desired colors, embossed motifs
Nimble hands
Dad's fishing string or any nylon strings available at ur friendly neighbourhood store
Cutesy animal clips
Nimble Hands
Someone who's has the stomach to blow them balloons or can be substituted with anyone who naturally has loads of gas/flatulance
Backup: 1 kg flour
*cough* semangat *cough*

The start....blow ur balloons. Somehow, they turned out in a certain shape, wic we agred resembles the female anatomy. Apt huh for the baby, as he looks up from his cot.

Next is the tricky part....tying!!! thank god for Nad's nimble hands. The first one:

Disclaimer:

Balloons have a way of not retaining the air you invest into them. So when all gets deflated, raid your cabinets, for mum's trusty packet of flour.

Viola:

Maciam like jemput-jemput can! Love the cute animal-esque clips.

...u may not want to put us incharge of deco....lol.

Sheep in Fog

2008-09-25T15:54:00.003+08:00

The hills step off into whiteness
People or stars
Regard me sadly, I disappoint them

The train leaves a line of breath
O slow
Horse the colour of rust,

Hooves, dolorous bells
All morning the
Morning has been blackening,

A flower left out
My bones hold a stillness, the far
Fields melt my heart

They threaten
To let me through to a heaven
Starless and fatherless, a dark water.

-plath-

Babies

2008-09-23T13:34:00.000+08:00

Overheard:

L: So and so has given birth...
F: Wow...guess now having a baby is the in thing...Marriage is sooo last century
L: If marriage is soo last century, what is singlehood then......obsolete!?!? Great!

Eid Mubarak

2008-09-22T23:24:00.000+08:00

Modern Age Infidelity

2008-09-14T23:10:00.000+08:00

A decade ago we fossilized this union on top that little hill
Do you still remember them playing our song?
The husky baritone of Ms James declaring at last our arrival to the world
You would smile in a way I never saw before
Your bright eyes secretly gleaming that escaped their attention
Your less than successful attempt to hide the blushing
My hand on your waist, guiding our dance in embrace
Our tender kiss that levitated our souls to higher grounds
Consumed every cell in my body with conviction of this commitment

I remember how your face failed to veil the anxiety
You would readjust the onyx cuff links I gave you every 5 minutes
The ones I gave you on our special night before
Soon enough love, I’ll be there
I loved how you smelled that day
A mixture of assuredness, warmth and security
Your witty, charming self coupled with deep-set dimples I adored
I remember how you held me, how you kissed my neck
How there was no one else you needed but me

She would twirl the ends of her auburn hair sieving through mails with the careful touch of her stylus, the ubiquitous conduit to virtual connectivity
Every second or so nodding in agreement to his grunts, cocking her head to the left to ponder in the distance
Immaculate in her off-shoulder little black dress and blood red stilettos, does he notice that I’m wearing less each day?

He was literally buried to the handheld device, twitching of thumbs to catch the prize
A shadow of his prime, decked in an overused Man U jersey and FBT shorts
Unsightly strays of unkempt hairs overlooked in light of that PSP
Does she know I’m ashamed that I can’t give her what she needs?

They would sit shoulder to shoulder, the stillness to each other peppered with sporadic arm jibes and reluctant intimacy
Drowned by the cacophony of station announcements, world-weary commuters and the ending of a drawn out day

Its quarter past 10 and we’re not home yet.

Malaysia Boleh

2008-09-14T16:59:00.000+08:00

Humour is a great Anesthesia

2008-09-14T16:10:00.000+08:00

The realization sinks in gnawing unceremoniously from the core of the emptied
All this while hope-filled fibs and fantasy laden hallucinations veiled my worrisome mind from reality
Riding in your shadows, desperately hanging on to your coat-tails
They are long by the way, a never-ending stretch that I couldn’t get to the head of it, fiercely protesting my grip

Melodies have left leaving an untouched guitar hollow from the dearth of crafting
Instant uplifting riffs of “Here Comes the Sun” fail to inspire replication with the departure of the two
I know who is, was and will be, all at once a debilitating fear of vulnerability weaves its encumbered self into the symptomatic churning attacks
Stalemate of a prolonged fight resigned, that the stasis may never be achieved
It doesn’t matter for the flight is long and the destination may change, there’ll still be uncontrolled turbulence along the way
I’ll take it when it comes or never does…

That’s the way this wheel keeps turning now
You can’t love too much one part of
You can’t love too much one part of

Will

2008-09-08T11:16:00.001+08:00

All winter, we got carried
Way over on the rooftops let's get married
All summer we just hurried
so come over, just be patient, and don't worry

No I don't wanna battle from beginning to end
I don't wanna cycle or recycle revenge
I don't wanna follow death and all of his friends

moments that got away

2008-08-29T02:23:00.000+08:00

i missed it, what filled the time when it got cut off
the others that were in the waiting
who warmed the seat of your absent longing
you didn't get through
the line vacuous of a single digitised yearning

Nightcap

2008-08-29T01:08:00.000+08:00

we speak in whispers cautious of the hearing
thin as paper that cuts through the silence
amidst the droning monotone of F.I.R, your digital substitute for the lonesome night

separated by 3 inches of insulation you still haunt me
one more sharpnel for the journey
inundated the flicker of your screen consumes you
overturned bellies filled with fear and loathing

He's waiting religiously a loyal companion
to end your day, watch you unfold
fix the wreckage fought in earlier hours
your rock of gilbraltar for the taking

repressed he walks, alive around empty seats and ruffled papers
hearing imaginary phone calls
a thriving effervescent in sadistic proportions
i imagine you suffocating beneath the weight of your imposed stoicism
just leave the other line unconnected its past the hour mark for importance

she flits with a lightness in each step
sashaying emblems of gleeful frivolity
the branding of a broken hearted idealist
fasten your plastic smiles an underlying contempt you fail to grasp

im erased with every key
inconspicuous eccentricities overlooked in light of day
magnified in a moment of clarity

Gender Bender

2008-08-24T16:44:00.002+08:00

d cutest lil boy....so mentel. natural model.

Amazing Punggol Race

2008-08-24T15:35:00.000+08:00

It’s been ages since I finally got a day off from everything and what a swell way to spend it on a photo outing with P. So much for trying to take photos that ain’t looking like Sg, it seriously felt like we were not in Sg. To all drivers out there, you can throw ur street directory out the window when you happen to be in the vicinity of Punngol-land.

Me: I wanna go to the beach area
P: Lets go to the marina country club area.
Me: Ok, u help with the navigation

After bout 20 minutes going around the bushland, we stumbled upon Punggol Seventeenth Avenue…The uber rich must really love their isolated space to go out of the way to live near swampland. Yikes..

Me: This is the Marina Country Club!? Looks like Malaysia...How the hell do they make money sia, no one in sight. *spots all the Chinese signs in sight*…eh this place is like cheena land. I only see ah peks and China looking ladies.

After a not so eventful photo-taking, we are just about to be oriented into the wonders of Punggol.

P: Omg dejavu…didn’t we just pass this same looking stretch of street with another LRT station…Twilight zone..
Me: Ya sia, didn’t we just pass this Ch temple. *after a few rounds*think we just passed a Hindu temple.
P: Maybe its all templated, every street in Punggol got same street, LRT station, place of worship.
Me: *figuring out wth to turn, been u-turning for the upteenth time*Oi….which road should I turn to….!?
P: *out of the corner of my eyes the street directory is on the floor, busily she’s fiddling with yellow subby*…..sooo cute….i’m so happy…whee..
Me: I’m entering sengkang, should I just go back to Punggol road again..?
P: …*still fiddling*…ya ok….*still grinning at yellow subby*
Me: I’m hungry…!! *spots jalan kayu exit thinks; jalan kayu got nice prata…..shud I? better not or another road trip adventure may ensue*
P: …wheee….so cute…

After turning bends and rounds of templated looking buildings, wide open spaces and the never-ending same stretch of road--(Punggol Way/Road/Central) all the freaking same— I finally concur that the urban planners designed Punggol in karma-esque concentric circles…maybe its all part of the fengshui cos of the war history of that place…or maybe its to pacify all u new couples who are getting flats there that really u aren’t shortchanged, that nobody gets a better area than others…all equal best ah..! somehow I think I’ll be lost there more often with more friends moving to that area to set up their lovenest..

Neways…glad u love the gift…here’s to more emotional blackmail moments from me…muahaha…yes if we do join amazing race, I’ll prob be stoned to death for being the anti-tudungster and u’ll be my human entertainment machine –batteries excluded, just feed her—cum gprs system =) Btw u are still a good navigator ah..

a third to the quarter mark

2008-08-21T18:54:00.000+08:00

To run again
To feel lighter with higher purpose
To be important and special once more
To restore belief
To do the moonwalk on the subway
To make you laugh
To emanate assurance
To be the charm
To dream and love again

Lesson 101

2008-08-21T03:11:00.000+08:00

Layered hallmark flights of fancy
Cascade Lust's designs
Flickering of quiet ignitions
A steady hum retained by our worn-in silences and co-joined sentences
If they listen carefully the angels floating past
a paralysed heart to the ground

Nestled on a mount held only for it
this compelling surrender laced with bouts of hysterical euphoria
an assured saunter, a piercing nonchalance
to the collection of sharpened memories for later missing and reminiscence

Ashen marked decoys reveal
obligatory offerings to lighten the unspeaking ahead
against the grain i trudge, pulling the weight of unrelinquished dreamscapes
ferocity with foolish intent, valiant in naive attempt

A conditioned calmness
void is anticipation
non-descript the rustle of my restlessness
face to palm
tear to tear
mouth to tongue
paralysed my heart to the ground