Oh what a night... 8:08 am

I cannot even remember when was the last time I did it. I was too tired to decide if it were a good thing or bad. Whatever the case, it happened.

Sitting on my bed in the dark of past-midnight. I looked up, they were still there from 7 years ago; the glow-in-the-dark stars on my ceiling. I was on the mobile phone...

This morning I awake with just 3.5 hours of sleep. I now sit awaiting my turn to see the doctor. It is my final day at my 1st rotation. Its drizzling. One week to Christmas

Am I making sense? Oh what a night...

poem: this is an artist 9:15 am

"

As she digests the black scribblings

On the score, the faint sounds of

Melody echo in her head. Then, the years

Of training magically transforms the dead ink-blots into

Harmonies through her smurfish fingers, bringing 

Alive the music along with its dead composers.

To celebrate the splendour of the music-scapes that

Escaped her body, she turns to writing verses

To try record the intensity of capturing the 

Soul of the composition.

In so doing, she brings the art from ink back to 

Ink. 

This is an artist.

Uncle T

bright spots in a sea of grey 9:15 am

A city of grey
It would be unfair to call Singapore a jaded society. But I do not think it inaccurate to say Singapore is not the most hopeful and optimistic of societies; a society which embraces hope and all that jazz. Yet, whichever society it is, it is neither good nor bad. But I much prefer, and hope, for us to be  a hopeful and optimistic society. But I will leave the academic and logical justifications for such comments for another time.


A hopeful and optimistic society is a society that might dare to dream, in good times and in bad. The society as a whole dares to dream up big visions and dares to work towards it, and the individuals within that society each dare to dream big and work towards it. If so, then perhaps we are indeed not the most 'dreamy' of societies.


Even before I carry on, I am sure a statement like that would illicit disagreement. But I am just going to say this: I truly believe it is possible to dream till your heads are in the clouds but with your feet firmly on the ground at the same time.


Ever since embarking on an art project of two after coming home, I get that sense of a society that tends to shun away from dreaming; it probably is deemed too impractical, too lofty, too 'airy-fairy'. Probably a society that wants to keep it real and safe, especially given the gloom of current the financial situation. What I am afraid to admit is that this financial austerity during this financial meltdown is not just a temporary translation to this lack of willingness to dream, but this strong inclination towards "practicality" is a permanent trait of ours. In my view, a society permanently choosing practical concerns and not daring to dream is a city of grey. Not black, just grey; not any of the extremes of white or black, just in between, just grey.




Bright spots: Inspired persons
However at the same time, these art projects has allowed me to meet inspired people; people who not only dare to dream but people who act on their dreams. These are the bright spots in a sea of grey. Perhaps this lot might have had it going for them to be allowed to dream; they don't have to worry about their next meal or a roof over their head, hence they have the time to dream. But this is not an accusation of those who don't dream, this is about the celebration of those who choose to act on their dreams even if they didn't have to. Walking the path to your dreams is often the path less traveled by most societies. Thus, walking the path to your dreams tends to be the more difficult path; all the more then do I appreciate these bright spots around me.


It is on days when it gets trying to push on that these inspired persons serve as spots of inspiration too. Last evening, I just met one such bright spot for dinner. An accomplished musician who wants to keep learning, and admits there is so much more to learn out there; a sign of a great musician to be. The way I see it, the difference between the good and the great is that the good think they have already arrived and the great will always be humbled by what they do not know and want to keep learning.


I have gone on for more than I wanted to. Well, these days it is only through writing that I get that catharsis I require in my life right now, so let me ramble abit la. :)

this was the most recent concert that the "bright spot from last night" played at. it was more than just a show; it was a performance.

Uncle T

of voids and Gregorian chants 8:41 am

"...As the darkness edged past midnight, he sits there not wanting to close his eyes and rest for the night; there is too much to do yet there is too much emptiness. So he looks to tradition in his hour of need; he turns to the Gregorian chants of the Benedictine monks to fill the voids of loneliness. The ancient Latin just seems to ease the numbing pain. For now.

the ancient statues of the Cathedral in Milan watch on silently; either in indifference or in reverence.

Uncle T

my|4-walls: more than just a photo exhibition. join us jan 15 2010 3:21 pm

Uncle T

toffeenutnomics 11:25 pm

toffee nuts in london + barcelona

It was about a year back when I first drank my first Starbucks toffee nut latte alone. I was in London. Winter was creeping in and it was getting cold. I found my way to a Starbucks near Holborn as I waited for Ian to come by for dinner. Upon a friend’s recommendation, I had my first toffee nut. Its warmth was really comforting in the London cold.

Half a year after that, I drank another Starbucks toffee nut, this time a frappucino; it was summertime in Barcelona. This time, I had the company of the very friend who first recommended me the drink. I do recall that it was a nice frap with a nice conversation to go along with it.

a toffee nut that makes you smile in the summer of barcelona

525, 600-ish minutes later: toffee nut in singapore

Half a year after that, and about a year after my first toffee nut, I am drinking yet another toffee nut frap. This time, I am strawing it in alone in Singapore. Aside from the amazement at the reality of the globalisation-reach, it’s a rather poignant juncture to take a breather and take stock a year after my first toffee nut.

What better way to mark our lifetimes by way of a globalised coffee drink; the toffee-nut measure.

So let’s see how far I’ve walked (or flown in a highly mobile world):

Then, was struggling in school. Now, graduated with a good degree.

Then, was a student. Now, working man.

Then, had cool red specs. Now, cooler blue and yellow specs.

Then, fat. Now, less fat.

Then, was about to endure the most challenging year of my life. Now, lived through it battle-scared.

Then, uncertain about the future. Now, still uncertain.

You see, the list will go on. And it always will, whenever we do suck retrospections. Some things change, some things don’t. Change is the only constant, the old cliché goes, and its true. But what would be cool, and wisely so, is when it comes to times of reflection about the past, it should be also about the future.

then, now, later

Standing at now and looking to the past, things will surely to have changed. But the more challenging bit is standing at now and looking to the future, and seeing what changes you hope to see and become. Some changes are be beyond us; the world ending in 2012 is sadly beyond us, so says the divination lot of the movie ticket. However, there is possibly that 20% of our future that lies within the control of the choices we make today. It is those choices I make today that will make me tomorrow that is crucial to look at as I sip the remnants of my toffee nut at Thomson Road.

Sadly, that friend who introduced me to the joy of toffee nut is far away. Perhaps I may even venture to say we’re not far apart just physically but on other levels too. I wonder how she is. But however she is, I know that even if the shit hits the fan, I know she will find comfort in her toffee nut.

After all, some things just never change.

Uncle T