Lest I forget

Walking on the pedestrian footbridge to work, I came across a pair of familiar, dirt encrusted, dry, cracked feet sitting in a criss-cross position. He usually sits under the bridge near the Kowloon Public Library with his plastic bag of his only worldly belongings, reading a Bible with red-edged pages. Today was the first I've seen him at this particular location, a favourite amongst the homeless. Prickly eyed, I stopped a few feet past him, struggling to locate my coin purse from the depths of my HK$259 H&M handbag. I turned, withdrew the HK$5, and placed it in his little bucket. Within a moment of seconds, he had thanked me profusely ("Thank you, thank you, thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you!")and I was once again walking briskly to work. His words still lingering in my ears, and a warm sensation in my heart.

It was after work, I saw him standing across the zebra crossing. Hardly any cars appear on this one-way road, so ignoring the angry red man in the traffic light, I began my way across. He was a smartly-dressed kid with a cheerful smile, holding the hand of his papa, his mama smiling at the two of them as they strolled to the light. His father makes as if to continue his stroll, ignoring as I did, the red man's warning. He then pulled on his father's arm, refusing to budge, "You can't! It's a red light!". Slightly irritated, his father, who appears to also be a frequent visitor of this particular crossing, explains to him that no cars go past this route and moves forward once again. Once again, a tug on the sleeve, "You can't! It's a red light!" He starts hopping from one foot to another, adamant yet the cheery smile still on his face. By the time, I had already made my way across the black and white stripes, a smile had formed on my previously worm-out face. It had only taken less than 10 seconds.

I see police cars, The Standard van, congesting in front of a restaurant with the tacky name of "Asian Pacific Restaurant". Down the road came the sirens of ambulances and the buzzing of police on motorbikes. And then there they were in their PE uniforms and brightly coloured backpacks. It was field trip day at The Grand Stage. Which coincidently is where I am supposed to be partaking in the High Table Dinner tonight at seven, the time I leave Click Clock.

Appearances don't count.

Or do they?

Came across this fabulous representation of prejudice on 9gag and the brain immediately procured the image of the twins, Crystal and Jade. With faces painted with makeup, the two view the world through their iris-enlarging contacts in the most curious of ways. You'd think they would be all for skinny models and doodling beautifully clad figurines but no. Crystal Renn at her largest is considered attractive (despite their rail-thin figures), Facebook - the social media which has captured the world by a storm - they do not touch, and Stewie look-a-likes escape from underneath their pens. Here I am, enjoying their company and candy-feeding habits while seven months ago I would never even dare to be alone in the same room as the two. 

what i'm looking forward to

Change. For the better. Change in environment, change in culture, change in lifestyle, change in friendships, change in values. So sick of the same routine. The same twenty minute walk down the steps of Sheung Wan. The classroom walls.

It's time to experiment, to make attempts, to TRY something new! Make a purchase on taobao, pay a visit Toy Story land, find a job in North America. Go on a mission trip. Break the monotony, the comfortable space that leaves no room for improvement, for inspiration.

So it's the end of the year again. Sitting on a stool, the boys battling Gears of War III in the background - seems like any other day of the year. Aside from the mere four hours that marks, another end. Another passing of time. How was 2011? It's hard to recall. Patchy memories fill the brain. Beijing. My first trip with le andy eyes and the lovely Sarah & star. Korea. Where I came to know the healthy, innocent and fulfilling friendship of girlies at Hanyang amongst the crowd of lewd guys and rave parties. And most recently - just yesterday - my best friend broke up with her boyfriend and fiance of eight years. Eight years. Their marriage was set in March of 2012. I was to be maid of honor. Growth makes people change. And sometimes makes ugly things happen. It's been a year since I've seen the fam - miss them so! Putting my mind on buying that one way ticket back home, or is it now? In four months time I'll be done with my bachelors. The three years has almost gone by, wouldn't say swiftly, but in due time. Decision making time again. 

I've read somewhere that unless you write it down, it's not going to happen anytime soon. So here they are:

• exercise.
• read a book a month.
• write. 
• pray.
• get involved. 
• find & do what i love.

Goodbye eleven, Hello twenty-two. 

Funny how many thoughts run through my mind when I'm in the shower but when its time to put or preserve thoughts into writing then it all somehow runs off somewhere into the drains of the brain. Now to pick up the fragments. Was pondering how language, is the way for expression but also is what limits expression. Which partially explains why the train of my thoughts are usually a mixture of english and cantonese, and also incorporate un peu du francais and yi dian dian putonghua. Some expressions can be better said with "me gusta" versus "i really really really like..."

oh! went to this art gallery exhibition and was rather repulsed by an artist who decided to force down his interpretation of his drawing onto two girls - who were quite foolish - i would say - to inquire about the "meaning" behind a work. Art, in my honest opinion, should be open for personal interpretations instead of a limited circle of thought brought about by the artist. The "guide" certainly didn't point the two in the right direction by asking "Is there anything else you need interpreting".

Walked past the fruit stalls of Yaumatei today with le andy eyes and came across some stray cats. He had a bit of fun scuffling with it for a strip of plastic bag. In that moment, the future of a home with a little grey and white fur ball with le andy eyes playing with it like pops with pippin crept into my imagination. There is something about animals that make even the grownest of men act like little children which is absolutely adorable.

Then came the playground filled with screaming monsters and their maids and mothers. Recollection of my own students - whom now require less screaming to control - in fact it is the calm deadly negotiating tone which works! Made me a little driven away from motherhood but a life is so precious in a way that maybe a daughter would be quite nice. Although, ofcourse, it is not for me to decide. And the thought of labor pains and other surgical procedures still make me blanche.

Was taking the night bus back to halls after tutoring today - finishes up at 9:30pm - when I got to thinking how, 30's is like the new 20's now... especially for women without children. Screaming at children for six hours straight every Saturday has certainly diminished my fear of public speaking - and is constantly reprimanding myself to act confident. No more hesitant/embarrassed laughter after an utterance of every phrase. No more weak, questioning, voice that is lacking in authority. Perhaps 30 is the age where you know where you stand as a person and where your interests, abilities lie. And then the 40's, 50's, 60' don't seem that bad after all. Especially if the skies are still blue and the fields are still golden.

A quickie: You know how 'vintage' has become trendy nowadays? And it never used to be the thing before. I wonder, is it because we have become wrapped into so much mass production that products and objects have lost their culture, meaning, elegance.

A quickie: You know how 'vintage' has become trendy nowadays? And it never used to be the thing before. I wonder, is it because we have become wrapped into so much mass production that products and objects have lost their culture, meaning, elegance.

I think I'm onto something big here...

"I like you" - it's the first time I've heard this phrase used this sort of setting. In an interviewer to interviewee setting. For once, I feel like THE candidate, although in reality I am barely holding it together underneath the surface. "You are fun, and bubbly". Perhaps, in this casual, creative yet over-achieving environment, is the place for me. The cross hanging around his neck was rather hard not to notice.

Everyday, I happen upon so many photo-worthy moments but, alas, I do not have my camera with me. Thoughts keep churning, yet no time is taken to write it down. Would like to make it a point to blog and photograph more. Oh, and prep for that GRE exam.

The other day I walked past a typical round, ponytail-ed house wife with an i-could-care-less attitude wearing a oversized purple tee with the words "Post-modernity" in blue. Gave me a little chuckle as I was hurrying to the green minibus stop for the source of my income - tutorials for two adorable girls.

Apart from being a fine game, Tetris is also a perfect mirror of the human condition. For a while the game is entertaining, and we seem to have mastered it and are having fun. Then, something goes wrong — a rash mistake, or an unfulfilled wish, and we’re fighting to repair the damage, but we’ve been thrown off-balance, and everything is piling up. Blocks that were once orderly and harmonious are jumbled and filled with holes, and our cup is on the verge of running over. There’s always a point at which we stop planning for the future, and realize that we don’t have one — all we can do is cling to the present and concentrate, focus our minds on what it’s like to be alive, to play the game, before it’s all over.

You were waiting for a four-by-one block that never came.

Sometimes we resist to the bitter end, moving blocks left and right without thought or care, just to hang on, and sometimes we accept the inevitable and pull the blocks down to us, smiling inwardly at the great joke. The rest is silence.

PMS + By Myself Tonight

Probably explains why I am feeling extremely emotional today. Together with the fact that one of my bestfriends (aka boyfriend) is not in Hong Kong and I met up with a dinner fellowship my lovely Taiwan ladies-slash-(purple)mommies for the last time and Claire Face for 5 hrs and 30 minutes! Totally feels not enough - and although it was very kind of her parents to treat me to lunch/tea (drank a record-breaking 3 cups of iced lemon tea and one green tea cream frappuccino today!) and absolutely lovely to climb up to Tao Fung Shan with her mother - we didn't have much time for a good, girl-talk! Also, apparently, storing one's SD card in one's wallet while the camera is at the repairs is NOT a good idea. Mine's been chipped and, although it incredulously works while taking photos, there is no way for me to transfer my photos from my camera to the computer today (Including the ones I promised to send back to with Claire)!! Goodness, is this a sign that photography and I are not meant to be? 

Back to the topic on the absence of Andy. He's been off to Macau and Cheung Muk Tau since Wednesday with his classmates and since I made an appointment to try out a new tutoring job on Friday and didn't want to change it lest I make a bad impression, decided to join him Friday afternoon with his lovely mum afterwards. Not a fan of hanging out with his friends anyway. Was really tempted to go clubbing one of these nights since he's not around to ground me (and hey! Why does he get to stay up all late with his friends and I must be a good little girl and lock myself in my tiny depressive hole?) but thought better of it as: 1. don't want to oversleep for said new tutorial job and 2. for some reason i have this recurring sensation in the back of my mind of how hurt he would be if when he finds out. It's funny to think how far this relationship has gone when it first began with annoying five hour talks which obliterated my sleep schedule, flinging away held hands and those more than enough four-dates-a-month. Two and a half days, piece of cake. Time for me to catch up with my girlfriends, go to fellowship, catch up on some non-sociology readings, party to celebrate the beginning of Seoul, floral summer dresses and the Great Wall. Without a skinny white monkey trying to stick my fingers up HIS  nostrils. Bellowing into my ears all the time. Scratching my already itchy and bulging mosquito bites. Ordering me to pick up his socks (which I still refuse to do). Then see me now, with a faucet for a nose, wishing for another dose of our daily late-night phone calls. The idiocracy of it all is indeed very, very amusing - if only I were not the subject. Ha. 

Curious how Claire constantly wanted to converse in Cantonese while I was desperate to have a normal conversation in English! At one point of our "hike" to Tao Fung Shan I remember her squealing as she rushed to her mother's side, "Mummy, your bag looks very heavy, do you want me to carry it for you?". While we were sipping our buy-one-get-one-free Frapps at Starbucks, after she gave up trying to persuade her mum to allow her to work part-time during the semester, "Well when I graduate, I'll pay back all the money you've lent me - no - my money will be your money!". Recalling our conversation in her green jeep regarding churches and peoples... to our bra-buying expeditions and "no-longer" interest in low-quality and cutesy clothing. Rarely have I met anyone so like-minded! (My sister and I are an unbeatable pair but we are nearly polar opposites!). Our short encounter led to a sent email to my dearest mummy regarding my fickle plans for the future. I've always had the "responsibility", or burden so to say, to provide the best for my family, even considering undertaking law and medical fields to support them financially in their missions work as I feel that my calling is more behind the scenes than frontal (short missions aside). Confusion and lack of direction is another thing, I am beginning to doubt if my passion is in fine arts, and if so, then will I be not utilizing what I am capable of? Or perhaps I have just not realized my interest in medicine and the like? Another worry thats been slipping in and out of my brain lately is, what do I do after graduation? Masters, when academics is still fresh in mind? Work for experience - if I do immediately pursue a post-grad in fine arts I would not enter the work-force until I am 25! Location matters, too. 

Luckily, I have a whole lot of mummy and non-mummy figures giving me advice! (and prayers!) 

“Happiness in intelligent people is the rarest thing I know.” 

- Ernest Hemmingway

I don't think reality shows really express the reality.

- comment on the article "How Addiction Turned Me Into a High-Flying Hooker on Jezebel.com

Nor do police statistics on teenage pregnancy, or the evening news on burglaries of family heirlooms with no monetary value, news of a friend's passing by word-of-mouth. Reality is experienced - it's bitterness tasted through tongue buds, stark colors flash through the filter of our eyes, cutting edge of tin cans felt through finger tips... and the warmth of grass and sunlight wriggling through our toes.

Made a visit to one of the few artist village today, and, although it was deathly quiet except for the occasional black box theatre rehearsals, I enjoyed passing through the studios and admiring their exterior decor. The little patch of sunlit open space on the roof with grass tufts made me feel a little chirpier despite the emptiness of the space. But then when I think about it, I like emptiness and vast, open spaces. Space that seems to go on and on forever on a blank white canvas and envelopes you into their inviting embrace. Waiting for a motion to make a mark, draw a curve, paint a dot. While we were traversing this factory of studios, he wondered out loud how much would it cost to rent a space and transform it into our own wonderland where we are able to produce our own little novice works of art.

A rather creepy welcoming, but I adore it nonetheless!

Continuity.

Tree of steel.

Man-made nature. 

I remember these lining the walls of village houses from my childhood days. Half the time they were filled with colorful printed pamphlets.

Peeking.

The symmetry yet lack of symmetry,

Overheads are not empty and uninviting.

So adorable! Think I may need one?

Spring roll cans.

Fabric. The smell of lavender, the softness, the way it moves with the wind. Simply heavenly.

Said tufts of grass. I was so delighted.