Impending. Merely on the horizon 12:49 am

It is just about 6 months before I return back to Singapore and settle back here. And that eventuality is looming just on the horizon and constantly pushing itself from the back to the front of my mind, my thoughts.

Certainly, this impending eventuality, came into even clearer focus as I visited my future workplace, my future home, yesterday. Many thoughts rushed back and forth in my head, with questions spilling out of my ears; what will it be like working here, will I get a good boss, will I screw up, what's my pay like...

But I guess, worry only occupies the mind here and now, and provides no answers moving forward. It is only natural that we have doubts of the uncertain future, but we have to often pull ourselves together and do what we possibly can NOW in anticipation of future uncertainty. Whilst its often natural to worry, there is no point worrying. My steps forward, with regards to career, are slowly becoming clearer as I put aside my worries and appreciate the uncertainty of tomorrow.

Oh well, c'est la vie!

Snaps@ the.future.workplace.

Uncle T

Kontinuation of photo-tour 2:04 am

This is continuing from my previous post.

Makan@Portsdown Road

traditional fish & chips at Colbar. really nice, in my opinion. batter not overly thick, and fish is fresh, along with crisp chips.

an old singapore fizzy drink.


An evening@Old School on Mt Sophia


Old School, now a complex that houses media, entertainment and art companies and outfits, was once the old MGS girls school atop Mount Sophia in the heart of the Civic District in Singapore. This was an old haunt for young kids like my dad who would visit relatives in the city from the kampungs. I wondered if it was the hill or the girls school that was the draw...

i half-imagined seeing white figures floating between the pillars...

typical wall from old singapore schools.



my cooperative model. trying to look emo.



erm... mummy would yell at me taking shots like these as being wasteful. erm...the new generation might call it artistically trashy. or emo.



sneaking around the creative studios. and found a hardworking creative soul. a foreign creative soul.



we finally spotted a floating figure.

again, my cooperative model.

excellent live music at timbre in Old School. Fatt, the guitarist, is an amazing finger-style guitarist. do visit. and call me if you do.



some twinkle to end the evening.

Uncle T

Grass is greener on the other side. So? 1:04 am

Having been away been away from home for 1.5 years may not seem too long to some for me to continually harp on that fact. But to me, that 1.5 years away from Singapore is a big deal; when I left GST was at 3% and now its at 7.


Blessed to still have...
I feel extremely blessed to leave home and come back to still see that buildings, most persons, streets and livelihoods I left behind still around. For others, homecoming may be to relatives and friends lost to natural and/or developmental disasters, childhood places wrecked and emptied by terrorism or crime.

Perhaps sometimes this security we enjoy in Singapore is taken for granted until one lives abroad and not enjoy the same magnitude of daily-life security. Because its often taken for granted, we, I, often forget to factor in this security as a reason why I'll like to settle down here in the long term.

Re-learning to love the grass...
Other than wanting to see my family, I wanted to come home this Christmas to re-discover Singapore, to once more fall in love with this island. This island I left behind for my new home in the UK, in Warwick, but the same city I will return to in 6 months to work, live, play and breed in. Despite being filled with apprehension, I knew it was for the better if I could re-kindle the romance.

I was afraid, and still am, I would no longer find Singapore attractive. The grass often being greener on the other side, I'm afraid of loving being in the UK and Europe and coming home to live would be a pain. Not because I'm atas or high-klass. But because when you move to a new place, and you know that you'll be there for some time, you do your utmost to assimilate and love your new environment; knowing I was going to be in the UK for sometime, I soaked myself in its culture, sights, sounds and therefore, oddly, home becomes a little strange. So I'm re-learning to love the grass here.

I was afraid to lose all the new-found treasures I discovered, and grown to endear, in my life overseas; English tea, French chocolat et les croissants, modern art, theatre, Continental makan, rolling hills... But these past couple of days of re-discovering bits of Singapore, I find these fears rather unfounded, perhaps even laughable. Other than the overly humid weather, I have underestimated what my tiny little island-city home has to offer.


Rolling through some Singapore grass: through rolls (of digital film)
I am not much of a story teller. But I wish to share some moments as I rediscovered bits of Singapore, rolling through local, itchy, muddy cow-grass (OK! I'm not literally rolling or having an affair with grass! Its just a metaphor). Come, join me in my little tour through the lens of my camera.

Sanctity@Portsdown Road

"even the best fall down sometimes..."



scenes from my ideal home. home, not house.

where my kids will play.



are words enough?



once military barracks, now tranquil homes.



taking peeks around Portsdown in the trusty car.



discovering a chocolatier and a italian restaurant.

Colbar, 40 years ago served as the canteen for the British troops in the nearby camps. After the Brits fled this tiny island to fend for itself, the remaining "brave" expatriates played football in the empty fields on the weekends. Colbar then became beer-and-makan after these matches. Daddy used to come here after football in his younger days. Today, it has been at its new location for 4 years, constructed to as close detail as the original house.

to be kontinued...

Uncle T

A quote that really struck me. 11:22 pm

"I think I know what the problem is now. With you, there's no spontaneity. No sudden surprises, skipping of the heartbeat, or doing things without a care in the world. Everything must be thought out, planned to a nicety. It gets boring, predictable. So when someone else with a little more spontaneity comes along, the world turns topsy-turvy. Like a parched child who hasn't drank water for days, she drinks up greedily. So you see, this isn't at all like the cliche. It's not me, really. It's you."

-anon

Uncle T

Sunday Blues (or Greens, Reds, Yellows?) 12:53 am

sick of makaning. but still had malaysian curry puff, nasi lemak, crystal jade congee...

We arrived back from KL after battling our way past the pack of cars trying to squeeze through Singapore Customs at the Tuas checkpoint, ferocious cars trying to squeeze into lines that snaked onto the second-link bridge.


Do we think we are our gods?
I drove out for dinner this evening. Along the way out and back, I saw 3 road accidents in total. Nothing too uncommon, but this mundane fact struck a chord today as I was behind the wheels. A chord of fear, with a melody of rude realisation.

Do we think we are our own gods? Cars zig-zagged and overtook me today rushing in and out of town. Worst, many did not signal as they squeezed into tight spots, causing other cars to jam breaks. In my personal analysis, all were dangerous maneouvers. But I'm pretty sure my friends do it too, and would think nothing of it. There were battle of egos; cars not willing to give in and insist on forcing their way forward, I myself having a near-miss as a lorry decided to ignore the fact that I had the right of way by being forward-moving traffic and squeeze in infront of me. It scared the ego out of me.

Did we think that our wills and egos would make us impregnable against errors of judgement, both ours and of others? I don't know the answer. All I know is that I felt fear on the roads today; fear that others think that they are in control and possibly believe that they are good enough that bad things won't happen to them. I'm certain some involved in the 3 accidents thought the same as well.


Crusing through the dark pitter patter
After a lovely evening with a lovely dinner date, I cruised home on the highways I used to travel on through the wee hours of the morning. This evening, it was raining. As I stared past the wind-screen wipers (I still find them amusing, the way wipers move across the windscreen) and see ruby breaklights popping up in front, I smiled. I miss, and enjoy, driving through the night. With music playing, its a lovely, peaceful escape from city life. Cities are noisy, crowded. I guess somethings never change. I still have a love-hate with cities. Do you?


Fighting the fights
We often are faced with challenges in life. It then falls upon ourselves to take up the challenge and fight or walk away. For the good number of us brave souls who know no better, we often take up the fight. For now, let's ignore those who decide to walk away, but we never know when the challenge presents itself again.

But for those who jump in the ring and fight, that is, standing by our principles, working against societal norms, facing difficulties head-on, do we know if we are fighting a good fight or a bad fight? Stories like David and Goliath often delude us into thinking a bad fight is a good fight worth fighting, don't they? And even if it were a good fight, where we grow to be the wiser and the stronger afterwards, when do we know to throw in the towel, or even to entertain that option?

How do we know when to walk away and when to take up the fight, the good fight? And if it were a good fight, when do we know to throw in the towel, to know we've fought enough to gain the good and not die from it?

I don't know. Is this too deep to think about? Or is life simpler than smelly towels and sweaty fights? But I salute all who decide to stay and fight, good or bad.

Uncle T