Alone again, naturally. 9:02 am

Gilbert O'Sullivan's voice is repeatedly coming through my earphones, with the squeals of kids playing nearby squeezing through the supposedly sound-tight technology of my earphones. But O'Sullivan's words are not lost.

The two young sisters at the table in front focus on tackling their chocolate muffins; the intent in their gaze show the entirety they are putting in to that one task before them, undistracted. They maneuver their mouths to ensure the most effective bite. There! Done! And they smile. So does their father, so do I. Now all that remains are crumbs on empty plates, half-empty cups of liquid and abandoned plastic food packaging; the man in black comes over and in one motion, removes all of it. All the joy of taking the first sip of coffee, the glee of tearing open the muffin packaging, all gone in a single moment.

| construction@uni |
do we always think building new things is progress? how about simply working to improve the existing?

Contemplative wet English spring
Looking out beyond the glass panels, I see the sun pushing its way from behind the first clouds of spring. Despite the sun, the ground is soaked from earlier showers and wind chills are enough to negate the feel-goodness of the sunlight. Similarly, recent rare streaks of feel-goodness in my life are slightly tainted by the woes of others around. I cannot help but feel their pains, their troubles. Just like the start of this wet English spring, I have been contemplative. But my contemplations have somehow steered clear (barely) from the iffy state of brooding; rather, I have been artistically inspired of late. However, once in awhile I do step into a pothole of melancholy. But that's life isn't it? Its a sunny day of good luck and feel-good experiences. And without warning, you accidentally step into a pothole of melancholy, insecurities and contemplation, and sometimes you twist your ankle. You take time to regain your footing, and with a grimace you carry on.

The most important bit about this silly careless story is: you grimace, but carry on.

| the hope and anticipation of spring |
uni of warwick



| evading the clutches of winter |
above whitefields@ uni of warwick

| an artistic endeavour |

Again, O'Sullivan's voice comes through amidst my random thoughts, and I hear the words once more, as I spot the man who sits at the same spot everyday, pouring over his papers and coffee.


...can only say what you already know.
When you twist your ankle, it is nice to have someone there to help you up and help you walk on, a crutch. But often in life, we have to pick ourselves up and carry on walking alone. Persons around me of late have been facing quandaries, trepidations, and have shared their stories with me. But can I do much? Perhaps the reality is harsh; that we have to move ahead, alone. Friends can only say what you already know, not do what only you can. Friends around us can only inspire, but we have to take action.

So O'Sullivan's lyrics do make sense when he croons from 1972: "alone again, naturally".

| tocil woods @ uni of warwick |

Uncle T

the return of silence. 11:08 pm

Uncle T

"Bring it back, bring it back, don't take it away from me..." 6:01 pm

It has been awhile since I wrote. So many thoughts to pen, too many pirouetting through my head and heart.

Yet once in awhile, we bump into some things that just bring us comfort, that warm feeling. So here is one such thing of late, for me, as I hope for you: Click here.

“It is not our purpose to become each other; it is to recognize each other, to learn to see the other and honor him for what he is.” -Hermann Hesse

"Bring it back, bring it back, don't take it away from me because you don't know what it means to me." - Queen

Uncle T

keeping vigil 7:47 am

A vigil is a period of purposeful sleeplessness, an occasion for devotional watching, or an observance. Tonight, we keep vigil as we enter Lent.

How often are we presented the opportunity to fully contemplate our being, our lives? This Lenten season of 40 days is my best time; to pull aware the costumes of confidence, facades of smiles and masks of self-righteousness, and examine myself, covered with the sores of pride, anger, jealousy...Perhaps it is the only time each year I am brave enough to do so.

I sit before Him, draped in guilt, of unworthiness. Yet, He still loves unconditionally. Caritas, the love and charity that is divine, one that is self-sacrificial and beyond mere inconsistencies of emotion. In my filth, I come before Him, begging for answers. Tonight, I reached into a basket of random quotes and verses. Be it called Luck or Providence, that arbitrary pick was the reassured answer I needed: "Give up worry- trust divine providence".

Tonight we keep watch. Tomorrow, we are reborn again in the hope of living a better life.

Uncle T

the weekend i smiled 9:20 am

mashed potatoes that took 1.5hours to make.


before: curry grilled cod with mashed potatoes with a vintage chardonnay
after: satisfied meal before heading for a dance performance

the smell striking the match, the initial thrill when the wick burns, the blowing out of the candle, the melting wax. my tiny comforts.

V-day | You don't always have to "sell-out" to the corporate world on this day. The day of teddy bears, mounting expectations, over-priced roses, nervous boyfriends, expensive meals. Have we all stopped dreaming, and are just blind followers to plans that others dictate for us?

A life of simple pleasures sometimes beats the fireworks of the drama of life.

visit to warwickshire.

thank you.

Uncle T

He chastised the the righteous Pharisees. They focused on the legal laws, the principles they thought by abiding pleased Him. They started loving the laws, and the thought of fulfilling them that they forgot about the One the laws sought to please.

Are we modern Pharisees? Imposing our righteous ways on others, turning our noses against others who do not follow our ways? Even towards our friends, do we judge as if we were sinless, as if we were Almighty?

I wish for no friend like this.

Uncle T

Economics of happiness and human adaptation 7:15 pm

Humans adapt to their lot over time. If last year was a bad economic year, and even the slightest improvement this year, would make people, on average, happier. But that happiness dissipates over time, that is, assuming everything else stays the same, our happiness gained from the improvement this year will lessen next year, and lessen by even more the following year and so forth.

A more pertinent illustration: couples are, on average, happiest in their first year of marriage, coming from unwedded to wedded. But the bliss of marriage dissipates with increased number of marriages. So the cliched honeymoon period is true. This is not the narrative of a soap opera; this is the academic field of the economics of happiness.

On a more positive note stemming from the same academic work, is that the misery of being thrown into prison also dissipates with time. This is because, according to theory, is that we humans adapt to our situations, good or bad, over time, on average. Time, then, does seemingly heals wounds, but also makes us take for granted the good things that happen.

I guess, in this light, perhaps we will know the world will bounce back after this economic crisis. But my greatest worry is that some might not even survive this crisis to see themselves bounce back.

Perhaps more on this later. Do you have any thoughts on the economics of happiness?




Uncle T

something we worked so hard for. it was amazing. thank you guys. 12:35 am

http://www.new.facebook.com/home.php#/video/video.php?v=1063800565291

Uncle T

Sidestepping purgatorial trials 8:31 pm

"She makes it look so easy, waltzing through the thick vegetation of crap that the harsh world grows. Her smile sidesteps purgatorial trials and right through the doors of celestial achievement. Simple. Too simple perhaps? Yet, he can't help but look on with respect, and smile, pondering about her path to greatness."



Uncle T

contemplative winter | gentlemanly snow 8:14 pm

kenilworth from cryfield | university of warwick | coventry

Uncle T

Whitescapes: aching for my wonderland 7:46 pm

I sit by my window, with my camera, as my friends throw snowballs at my windowpane. I'm safe. I smile.

I left home early this morning for the dance studio. As I stepped out, I was struck by a white blanket. A blanket that covered everything, There was no grass, no path, no shoe prints, just white. I smiled.

As the morning unfolded, many more awoke to whitescapes from their bedroom windows, and I'm sure, too, they smiled. A man falling of his bike, snowmen across what once were grass patches, snowball fights, slippery streets, cautious cars, unconcerned ducks wadding around...

Yet, there was a sadness that lingered. A quiet, subtle one that sat silently in the corner. Not upsetness but a sadness. A melancholy that freezes the heart; so frozen that the hand hurts when it beats the heart.

Wouldn't it be nice to have warm tea, toast, juice for breakfast in a warm kitchen, as you gaze out to the gentlemanly snowscape? I smile at the thought of someone in the empty chair next to me. But who?

Uncle T

untitled | Part 1.5 7:07 pm

He walked out into the snow, praying it would wash him clean. And yet, he comes back with slush and grime on his heavy boots.

Uncle T

"of grand gestures & truly loving" 6:58 pm

"Wake up. Smell the roses; they are decaying. Cankered by your ego, your petaled ideals are dying. You say you love her, but with your presence you trap her, torment her! You stain the white snow with your grand gestures, but the greatest act of love, you cannot do. You cannot let go. You have made her a prize, an objective, you cannot lose. Through this, you truly lose the passion and spirit of the one you so love. Dare to love her, dare to let her go. And perhaps only then will you get a true shot at loving, and being loved."
- a line from somewhere

Uncle T

a requiem... 9:00 am

my heart bleeds
for him.
i find no way of sending my
condolences, yet my eyes
cry for him, my heart
aches for him and
his loss. i want to be there.
for him.

may the Almighty carry
him and his family on
His Wings.

Amen. Amen.

sunset | hurst | university of warwick

Uncle T

Are the streets of New York still paved with gold? 8:52 pm

Economic jargon
A government earns its revenue annually from many means, mainly through taxes and fees collected, but also through returns on investments and other sources. They also spend annually, called government spending, on infrastructure, businesses and on other things that will look after the welfare of the people it governs. But when a country spends more than what it earns, this is called a budget deficit. To fund this deficit, to get money to spend beyond its means, a government has to borrow, and that is called public debt. It is called "public debt" because the public, the taxpayer, the yous and mes, have to pay for this spending.


The Great Deficit: is it fair to future generations?
In 1990, the annual deficit of America was at $220.4 billion. In just the first 3 months of 2009, the American government is expected to borrow already more than double that of $493 billion. I say again, that figure is for just the first 3 months of this year. With this deficit set to grow at ridiculous rates in the year to come, imagine the billions of snow-balled debt the American public has to pay in terms of debt through their taxes. Not just this generation, but the next, and the next.

To put it into perspective, this means that every baby born with an American citizenship will inherit a public debt, at least in this generation. Not accounting for private debt that families owe, mortgages and their own daily bills to pay.


Gold? Or fallen icons and burdens?
Is New York then still paved with gold, the way our forefathers thought it was? Today, I think, the streets of New York are paved with fallen corporate icons and the burdens of imprudence.

Uncle T