bringing forth

Deanna

2008-11-26T16:11:00.000-08:00

Since September 2007 I have been helping out at Gawith Villa at rather irregular intervals, bringing intellectually-disabled clients to an art studio. I functioned basically as their art mentor, helping them as they go about drawing, painting and writing. Last year, there was Deanna, Sheryl and Cuong. When I resumed in August this year, only Deanna remained. Still it was a tremendous journey and one that through its ups and downs, brought me joy.

Deanna must present an interesting case to therapists and doctors. She is not afflicted with Down Syndrome, cerebral palsy or other common intellectual-disorders. She is also not wheelchair bound. Seen from a slight distance, she looks physically alright. The people at Gawith Villa explained to me that when she was young, she was placed in the Kew Cottages (an organisation that looked after the intellectually-disabled, it has since been closed down), although she was not diagnosed with any of the illnesses. In the Cottage, the care that was given to the children was apparently really bad. Deanna started out being fine, developing like most children would. However, being immersed in such an environment she started to pick up behavioural traits from others and forming them to become her own. Now she does not speak at all, preferring to use hummings and body language (like stamping her feet, tapping her head or pushing things presented to her away) to express herself.

I first got to know of Gawith Villa through my university's careers website. Taking half a year off studies, I decided to look for something to gainfully occupy my time in Australia. I thought: hmmm maybe there is something I can learn here and give back through service. At that time I was a lot more focused on the latter. Through time I realised that the people I was 'helping' with my able body and mind actually thought me infintely more about life in return.
Sounds like one of those 'cliched' stories with some moral saying attached at the end? Pause and push the cynicism aside for a while. Because it really is true. This world thinks that only the famous, well-off and well-connected have much to teach us about living on earth, so much so that they shape the choices we make. Yet wisdom reveals herself differently... in places found by those who fully seek her. I did not really search for wisdom when I began volunteering for I thought it was me who had much to give. God changed this perspective of mine and showed me wisdom's way.

Deanna loves drawing circles and spirals. Give her a piece of paper and a marker, colour pencil or crayon and she immediately responds by drawing these exuberant circles all over the surface. I realised a certain trend in the way she draws. When she begins she tends to do a scribble over the paper, almost like claiming the territory. She also usually draws in the part of the paper closer to her and draws in other parts when you point them out to her.
She also hardly takes the colouring tools by herself. I would either pass a colour to her or let her pick a favourite between a choice of 2 or 3 colours. Then with colour in her hand, it is get-go from the start. She will just draw and draw and draw. Sometimes the circles spill out of the border and Deanna will begin colouring the table beneath. Sometimes she will deliberately draw circles in the corners, tight concentrated circles, almost like she is marking out a frame.
There are scenes of dense whirls of pure colour. No shading. Sometimes the pressure is hard and the line is bold, assertive and confident. Sometimes a bit of pressure is released and the line becomes light, almost whimsical. The layers of colour build one on top of the other.

Ask her what the image means and she will not explain. Ask many of the clients what their image means and they may not give an answer that can satisfy the curiosity of a curator or art historian. I remember the bunch of us art mentors coming together to select artworks for an exhibition (Art, I Like It! now on at Malvern and Prahran town halls). Being the quiet subdued me, I watched and listened as they made curatorial decisions. I realised how truly difficult it is to make 'sense' of the mass of artworks in the studio - sense that is sense to us.
The clients hardly ever speak of how they feel when they make art. It is instinct. Crayon, brush, paper and go! Many of the mentors said likewise of their experiences. Not like us who think: oh if I draw a rose this way, it will look like a carnation.
This is not to value the clients' works as more 'pure or true to nature' than ours. It is simply a way of expression that can change our mindsets the more we allow ourselves to understand.

And what a process of engagement it was! Over time I found that I could call the works Deanna produce almost my own too. The execution is purely hers. But the choice of paper, choice of colouring material and choice of colours were all offered by me for her to make.
This made it such a joy. I could be a part of her discovery of art! I could be involved in the act of self-expression. =)

Yesterday something inconceivable happened. Deanna seemed rather moody, choosing not to colour anything. She placed all the markers back in the box and insistently pushed the paper away. She had scribbled spirals in yellow ink and had decided that that was it.
But she kept on sitting next to me instead of moving to her favourite massage chair a distance away. She looked on as I helped Kattie draw Christmas cards for Marina and Anthony.
Then she started drawing, nearly an hour on.

This time she was drawing long relaxed vertical wavy lines that are reminiscent of streamers! Marina was so delightfully taken aback that she said - Deanna you're drawing a party!
It was colourful. Instead of limiting a piece to the usual 4 - 6 colours, Deanna was using the whole palette available. There was even blue, a colour she does not fancy using much.
With heavy strokes she would press the marker tips strongly unto the surface. The result was vibrant and energetic.
I felt such joy and almost a tinge of pride to see how far she had come. And it was also officially my last day (though I intend to visit at least once more).

As she was leaving she stomped either foot once, making it sound like she was saying byebye. Cute! hahahaha
As for me, I told Marina I was going to take the works home. Keepsakes. Reminders that art can bring life with it.

2008-10-16T16:55:00.000-07:00

The heavens declare the glory of God;
the skies proclaim the work of his hands.
Day after day they pour forth speech;
night after night they display knowledge.
They have no speech, they use no words;
no sound is heard from them.
Yet their voice goes out into all the earth,
their words to the ends of the world.

In the heavens he has pitched a tent for the sun,
which is like a bridegroom coming out of his chamber,
like a champion rejoicing to run his course.
It rises at one end of the heavens
and makes its circuit to the other;
nothing is deprived of its warmth.

My silhouette

2008-10-12T04:43:00.000-07:00

Wow I cannot believe it has taken me so long to getting down to writing a blog entry! It is not that I lacked time. It is just that somehow it took a while for me to find the motivation (tonight it is the completion of writing the conclusion for my thesis) and seriously, time is a precious resource that I am still learning to use well.
So many things have been happening. I have been preparing for a song and dance item for my church's upcoming women's conference. The theme is Freedom and the song is aptly titled Free to Love. It has been such a challenge for me and Mel as we are brought out of our comfort zones - me in dancing and for her, singing. We certainly did not think it would be so challenging when we said yes to putting up the item. Does this mean we will not persevere through? Of course not. Afterall the power and worth is to finish the race and finish it to the best possible.
But still, it is not a breeze. Acting out a monologue seems far easier than dancing solo against a screen that magnifies my silhouette. As for Mel it does not get simpler. She told me today that the microphone appears to swallow up all the effort she has been putting into her singing.
I need to practise on this item of mine. The reason for the lack of practise is simply explained out by the fact that my thesis is due on the same day the conference opens. Nearly 9 months of research, planning, writing, re-planning, re-writing and editing has culminated in just over 12,000 words on Dutch genre paintings of women at home. It really ought to be the big moment in my academic life and certainly I have learnt many things from it. However it has been crippled in some ways. One, time. Two, word limit. Three, that I am not fluent in Dutch and other European languages.
If there ever comes a time in the future when I get to pursue my own research and write another paper I hope that at least two of those three will not remain obstacles. Are there other things that I may be keen on writing about? Let me see... art of indigenous groups in China? the presence of a British colonial aesthetic in Singapore? returning to what sparked off my interest in art history... Vincent van Gogh? Is it no irony that I am still writing about Dutch art, albeit those made three centuries earlier?
After this I have a presentation the following week on my essay topic. Theoretically I should have confirmed my topic with my lecturer and finalised my essay proposal. Theoretically I should have already done significant research on the topic and be able to prepare a 15 minute presentation, complete with slides of images, and deliver it to a classroom audience of about 20 people. In reality, my lecturer felt the choice of case study for my topic was not the best and advised a change in direction. However I was so preoccupied with my thesis that I did not have time to research further. A brief scan through Google revealed a possible new option (though it certainly has to be backed up by time spent in the library). Chuck Frank Gehry out; enter Frank Stella? Frankly speaking... awww this is enough for the pun here is really in bad taste but I could not avoid it! ^^
Oh Lord! May I find strength in You who never tire. You grant joy and confidence who anchor their faith in You. I lift my eyes and hands toward You. Amen!

The Day and All That's In It

2008-07-29T20:00:00.000-07:00

Here I am typing away on a sunny Wednesday afternoon. It is 1pm. I crawled out of bed at 835am but I am still chirpy. This is amazing.
Must be the cup of chai latte I just had. As I am currently taking driving lessons I have tried to cut back on my chai latte intake. A cup a week totals up to a significant amount of dosh. I must say I have been quite successful, this possibly being my fourth or fifth cup this year? The spiced brew from Mr Tulk [a cafe situated in the State Library and which is cleverly marketed as the book-loving individual's choice of hangout, even so shameless as to use a certain prominent forefather of Melbourne's history for its name] is average. But boasts these paper cups covered with the cafe's signature design. It is a mixture of geometry, bold black marker scribblings and patches of cute graffiti on a white background. I must admit what tempted me to purchase a drink from Tulks was the knowledge that they've cute cups and I can be seen toting one of them. So much for consumerism and vanity.

There is no end to the irony then when I started thinking about recycling my waste as I shuffled home with my brew. And to top it all off, as I collected my mail for the day, the monthly newsletter had a section on the facts of recycling. Here are a couple:
- On Glass: Every month we throw out enough glass bottles and jars to fill up a giant skyscraper. A modern glass bottle will take 4000 years or more to decompose and even longer if it is in the landfill.
- On Paper/Cardboard: To produce each week's Sunday newspapers, 500000 tress have to be cut down. If all our newspapers were recycled we can save about 25 million trees a year.

Hmmm, some food for thought. Some say that our generation is becoming increasingly aware of the damages we are doing to the environment - we are more concerned about social justice, environmental welfare and on the role we can play in looking after our world. Yet on the other hand reality provides its share of checks and balances and it becomes easy to either dismiss projects or any effort on our part as do-good-and-relieve-guilt endeavours, or worse still, we are numbed by facts, figures and initiatives.

Well, a portion of us have heard about Al Gore in An Inconvenient Truth and a few more on what he and a whole large community of scientists, engineers, social scientists, scholars etc. are doing to increase awareness of our destructive actions on the environment. It is all fine and dandy. But let us say that whether these guys are motivated by occupation, passion or inspiring leadership, we can also distance ourselves by saying that all this is not for us. That we do not see why our lifestyle preferences have to change because of statistics and warnings from smart guys who may live continents away from us. Research is research and daily life is daily life?

This sets me thinking. Given that there are a number of reasons for which we remain indifferent to/ignorant of this whole recycling affair: is it REALLY that HARD to recycle? Facts and figures can encourage or numb us to reality. Having said that, what about recycling takes so much wrecking of brains? Does it require us to fork out more money, consume copious amounts of our time, or strain our backs trying to lift heavy weights?

Well no, really. It can be as easy as placing a separate bin next to the bin where we throw food, wet matter or sticky icky items. And where we once threw paper, cardboard, glass, metal or plastic items we can direct it toward the other bin. I also had other ideas which I thought I'd throw in for good measure:
- Use energy-saving light bulbs, afterall they last longer and certainly more than make up for their initial higher cost. In addition they consume less energy.
- Sleep earlier. A revelation came one day when I switched off the lights in my apartment and looked across the road to the mammoth 44-storey block of apartments to see that 1/2 of the rooms' lights were switched on. Around Melbourne too there are shops who keep their window displays lit up throughout the night - what for? Think about the incremental savings you can make if you switch off the lights (or purchase energy-saving alternatives). Plus you contribute to a healthier environment at no severe costs to you. [though I was wondering if shops/offices/companies kept their lights on for security purposes. This says much about the trust we have in people living around us]
- Encourage Coles, Safeway or any supermarket to use paper bags instead or plastic ones. I think it is significantly better than using those 'environment' bags made of thick plastic-cloth material which may just about be harder to decompose and recycle than normal plastic bags. One question though: if we all use paper bags how do we contain wet waste matter like food scraps?
- Use tiffin containers. They were so popular long ago in Singapore and other parts of Asia. They are these awesome, long-lasting metal tins with a handle and two or three parts stacked one on top of the other. This way you can store, for example, rice in one part, vegetable in another, and meat in the last. My parents still use these once in a while instead of asking for takeaway meals to be packed in plastic boxes or waxed paper.
It struck me that we can ask for coffee or hot brews from the cafe to be poured into our own mugs wherever possible instead of using the usual paper cups with plastic lids. This way you can also be certain that you have not taken the wrong order especially during peak times when everyone is waiting for their cuppa.

Well these are my contributions to newfangled ideas on how to recycle. I reckon it is really not all that tedious and cumbersome as we (and I) tend to think it is. Of course what makes recycling a joy to participate in is when we realise the legacy you leave behind is not merely egged on by head knowledge, but a desire from the heart. =)

In-Spiration (2)

2008-06-19T19:00:00.000-07:00

[please scroll down to the earlier post for the start of the story]
I took three subjects in the first semester apart from my fortnightly thesis supervision: the compulsory module Theories of Art History, Iconography and History and Philosophy of Museums. I have to iterate that I have great interest in my thesis topic and find the images so poignant, beautiful and inspiring that I truly thank God for opening this door for me that I may study them in depth. They are such a blessing, a true feast for the eyes and also for the soul. However even the, sometimes, repetitive work of reading book after book, article after article and going through copious amounts of art can dim our attention to detail and even the passion we originally started out with. It is easy to flip through exhibition catalogues and dismiss a painting of a mother with her child as just a variation of another similar work in the same genre.
Altogether so easy to miss out on the in-spiration behind the work: a testimony of the Holy Spirit's presence and ministry to an artist in that window of time.

Crunch time came in the middle of the semester. Already swamped with piles of readings and continuous planning and revision for my thesis, I realised that deadlines for other assignments were fast approaching. With a draft chapter for my thesis [around 3000 words] due 12 May, a Museums essay due 30 May [3000 words], Theories essay due 9 June [4500 words] and an Iconography essay due 11 June [4000 words], I was frantic. There were days when I would awake and the first thought on my mind was: Alright, today I am going to write this amount of words or read this amount of literature. My typical response was to slot the workload according to days, being so careful to take stock of my progress. It became such a challenge to pry my mind away from these 'to-dos' and to find rest in God, trusting Him to carry me through the period.

And He did, He really did, working in ways that till now astound me.

Firstly the deadlines moved (really!). My Museums essay received a week's extension and the Theories essay could be handed in a day later because the Queen's birthday fell on the 9th. This turned out well because my birthday fell on the 8th and I could quite merrily take a full day off. Secondly He taught me a lot about the material I was learning and the choices I make in a way that university is unable to.

At the start of the semester we were made to select a topic for Theories to present on and it was to become the basis for a full-fledged research essay. In less than two minutes flat, the topic I wanted was snatched up online. I signed up under the reserve slot but it was a no-go. All that I ended up having was the topic I wanted least - Ornament. I was absolutely devastated, recalling how I prayed the night before for God to grant me a slot for Reception Aesthetics. What was so interesting about arabesques, palmettes and those orderly intricate designs on Oriental rugs and Corinthian columns?? Afterall hasn't Western art marginalised ornament or decoration as excessive and of far lesser worth than the human figure? As I was prepping my presentation, I randomly selected a work by Matisse that was not even well-known. It turned out to be a stroke of grace. My lecturer thought it was highly apt and encouraged me to use it for my research essay. No sweat. God has just dropped this into my path and cleared the way for my research, which turned out to be straightforward and relatively easy. It is like the moment the image came everything else just fell in place. No competition for the books I needed to borrow and planning was such a breeze. God's gentle mercy. I will always remember what my lecturer said: Sometimes I think that these artworks mean much more than the paintings or sculptures we're so used to. They are discreet, part of the furniture, hidden somewhere, not the centerpiece. But yet they're so significant to that which they're part of. Well this was the gist of it. And this comes from a Baroque specialist no less.

I sense God telling me that it is not size that matters. That which we slight ever so often has a role to play. And sometimes it pays to take heed of these details - the seemingly small and insignificant for they have great worth and beauty too. You have a overwhelming Titian and also the ornamental motifs on the wooden frame surrounding it; the palatial Banquet of Cleopatra by Tiepolo and also the patterns on the figures' garments. Research was quite a ride. I came into contact with tifaifai (Polynesian applique quilts) and saw the evolution of the lotus flower into the palmette. They were amazing artists back then. =)

There was another incident that the Lord showed His amazing grace. With less than two weeks to research and write my essay on St Jerome for Iconography, there was an uphill battle to face. There were 3 other people writing on the same topic and there's this unmentioned pressure to be 'original'. In the last week of semester we were asked to briefly present on what we intend to write about. The other two girls present then were already researching on Jerome and I remember feeling extremely left out because I honestly had nothing much to say. Then somehow the thought of linking depictions of St Jerome to the ancient Greco-Roman philosopher model came to mind. InSpiration! The Lord is good. He knew the limitations I faced (there was severe competition for books in this case) and He was faithful all the way.

I never sensed such a strong presence from the Lord in my studies before as He inspired me and gave me clarity and the determination to see things through to the end without burning out. Things were not easy-peasy but the effort was worth it. The results are not in yet but that is not all there is to it, yeah? Above all the fact that I reached the other side still with hope alive for what is yet to come, is a testimony of the grace He showed me, and still shows me. I am so thankful to Him for carrying me all through the semester, every single day.

All praises to the Lord God Almighty!

In-Spiration

2008-06-19T18:29:00.000-07:00

It has been a long while since I last wrote anything on this blog, partly because I did not feel inspired to write an entry but really more so because I have been a bit too busy to put thoughts and experiences into words online.
The year has so far seen its fair share of challenges, many of which have yet to come to a conclusion. One of them has been the rigours of academic pursuit in the form of an Honours in Art History - that is the degree I hope to get which will in turn indicate that I passed everything (and well, too I do hope). So what is the challenge? Actually there were many challenges that emerged with the commencement of the academic year and throughout the semester.
For those who do not know, I took a semester off after graduating with a Bachelors degree last year even though my original intention was to press on with Honours right after. Why? Because I was experiencing burn-out and 1) could not foresee myself reading another journal article, 2) find my passion for the subject fading away, 3) did not even know what to write for my thesis. I guess to my parents it seemed a flagrant waste of money to pause my studies, indefinitely.
Yet the Lord came through for me in such a mighty way. Through a series of talks with people and a personal search for what truly spoke to my heart (which was confronting and on hindsight, as far from the typical art-history-grind as possible) I found it. The Art of the Dutch in the 17th century!
He has proven Himself so faithful. Upon submitting my application and then returning to Singapore after my visitor's visa ended, I never once doubted that I would get into the program. Not because I am a star student but because I know that He is going to work through me and teach me things in this phase of learning. It turned out that beginning the course was not as arduous and going through it. =)

On the Side of Me

2008-01-31T04:36:00.000-08:00

I'm not the easiest person to love
I'm often the one who lets things go unresolved

Yet you choose to be
on the side of me
Yeah you choose to be on the side of me
on the side of me

I'm not too proud of some things
I've done in my life
The skeletons in my closet
Are too big for me to hide

Yet you choose to be
on the side of me
on the side of me
Blessed Charity
you're on the side of me
on the side of me

Everyone needs a friend to hold
when it's cold outside
and there's no place to go
Everyone needs a friend to hold
all alone I cried
there was no place to go
I remember when nobody cared
but you

I'm not the easiest person to love
But you, you've opened your heart to show me what I'm worth

'Cause you choose to be
on the side of me
on the side of me
What a mystery
You're on the side of me
on the side of me

Everyone needs a friend to hold when
it's cold outside
and there's no place to go
Everyone needs a friend to hold
all alone I cried
there was no place to go

I remember when nobody cared
I remember when nobody cared
Nobody cared
But you

Yeah you choose to be
on the side of me
on the side of me

On the Side of Me
Corrinne May
Beautiful Seed, 2007, Warner Music Singapore Pte Ltd

Panned or banned?

2008-01-22T02:23:00.000-08:00

I was looking for Studio Ghibli dvd collection amongst a stack of discs and chanced upon this double-cd collection of Angela Zhang's music from around 2 years back. My friend bought it for me when she went to China on a vacation. The sleeve was decently printed with rich colours, the spine had the artist's name and some title for the disc, and it had that requisite silver foil circular sticker on the cover. It seemed genuine, or was it?
Upon closer inspection the silver sticker just said H1.0278 - certainly not some recognised board that certifies it does not violate copyright laws.
But the telltale signs lay in the translation. It is really quite a laugh. I read the Mandarin and in loose translation it should roughly arrive at: The most sweet and moving music, female songbird Zhang Shao Han (Angela Zhang) wants to share with you the story of love/a love story...
It became:
It is very profesional to collect very beautiful,the super singer very on intimale terms
Go on riencly contact of cose quanter very
[all spelling, grammatical, punctuation mistakes were retained for authenticity and maximum effect]

I think they just got tired of coming up with actual words.

And my Ghibli discs have yet to be found.

Glimmer, Shimmer

2008-01-14T05:18:00.000-08:00

I went to Bintan over the weekend with my family. We had all never been there before, so winning a complimentary 2 day 1 night stay in one of the resorts was sweet and a real motivation to visit the famous island.

My sis makes great company if only because we understand each other's humour very well. To note: upon arrival at the resort, she spotted a dead white koi fish in the pond and pointed it out to me. We had a laugh about it with me commenting on it being the first koi I saw dead. But, this did not cast a pall over the trip. Still I love koi! They are very slender, with glimmering scales, and look positively inedible.

After checking into the hotel rooms, we happy folks trudged down to the beach. Oh it is amazing how vast and powerful and beautiful God's creation is! The rocks sat heavily, one atop the other, and faced the sea, solidly, like an army battalion. The soft beige of the sand, the sky with its cottony clouds, the sea heightening the sky's colour in even more lucid, glorious tones, and the shawls of green (even though we are wont to say eeuw to algae) which clothe the rocks are so becoming... I digress. There are many things words can describe but never fully express. The awe and splendour one experiences when you see such beauty is one such thing.

Anyway, back to writing lux. I was happily walking into the forthcoming waves, seeing the seaweed sway around my ankles and feeling the tropical breeze brush my skin when, lo and behold! Mozzie comes! One humongous Indonesian mosquito comes and attacks me. Apparently it is so big and heavy that it is less agile than its Singaporean counterparts. This also points out why it was less effective in getting a good long drink out of me. Despite all this it managed to prick my skin twice, prick because you can literally see the mark its straw left on my skin. Looking at it now, it looks like the size of the small moles on my skin. Thankfully it is not itchy although at that time I was wailing to my fellow happy folks how painful it was. Blood was also flowing out of the marks. Serious. These mozzies are vicious.

So we fled the beach for that time and proceeded to the pool. We caught a dad teaching his young ones how to swim. He told the girl - You have to jab at the water surface and not use your palms to slap down, otherwise you'll waste more energy. Then he proceeded to jab with much vigour. He told his younger boy - (who was learning the front crawl) Use your legs to draw a figure 8. At first me and my sis thought it was each foot drawing an 8, which didn't make sense and looked absolutely atrocious when I attempted it. Then we realised he referred to using both legs to draw the 8 at the same time.

The place was peaceful. We slowed down to allow time to take its course. We watched these small birds, which were flying back to their home on the ledges of the hotel building, move with such velocity and flapping their wings so fast that it became a mini sight and sound performance for us. Dinner took over an hour. Such a pleasure, if you ever sat in for our weekday dinners which we go through with such efficiency you wonder if our stomachs can catch up with our mouths and minds.

The best part was spent admiring this little water body that breaks off from the sea and carves an arc through the sand. I do not know how better to describe it so a picture shall do the speaking. Me and my sis proceeded to step into the waters, lured by the appearance of small fishes with gleaming bodies. It was rather scary because the sand was so soft that it would push away with each footstep that falls. Now I know why they say quicksand... So we navigated our way through the narrow stream, watching the water level rise to brush the leg of our shorts, and seeing fishes weave in and out of logs and legs. We tried to catch fish but they slipped right through our fingers.

Then it was time to head back. We went back to the koi pond and saw the dead white koi was scooped out. A turn to the water installation nearby and we saw a lizard at least 45cm long was disappearing into the crevices of the wall of rocks. And it all seemed to conclude our visit - the awesome face of nature in the midst of human creation. Who is the winner?

Playing footy

2008-01-06T04:51:00.000-08:00

I found out, upon a fairly recent visit to the doctor's, that I have a viral wart on my toe. When I first came back to Singapore early on in November, I was convinced, or more likely want to believe, that it was a corn and hence needed to be treated as one.
Off I went to the pharmacy and bought a box of corn plasters. They are elaborate. Allow me to enlighten all blessed persons who have yet to find the need/urge to buy any.

1. Small round medicated plaster with a diameter of around a centimetre. It also has a sticky top side which purpose you will soon find out. This you stick directly onto corn. If yours is bigger than this, sorry.

2. Oval shaped plaster with an underside that has a centre the size of the medicated plaster. Apparently it goes directly on top of the plaster, sort of like a cap, and is intended to pad the area surrounding the corn.

Corns are painful, as was mine, and therefore elaborate plasters are much needed. But lo and behold, it was not a corn to be.

Told this to my sis and the ensuing exchange turned out to be a tad typically dry.

Me - It is not a corn. I treated it in the wrong manner.
Sis - So what is it?
Me - It is a viral wart.
Sis - What?
Me - A wart. I think the wart must be thinking, 'What? She thought I was a corn? I'm a wart!'
Sis - Whatever... Hahaha

I have no idea why I am blogging on a wart. My first wart (therefore the misadeventure in self-diagnosis) which really looks quite disgusting. It is dry and hard and was rather painful. But it will receive the best treatment possible in Melbourne. Since I have paid for my student medical insurance. Doctor's care and liquid nitrogen. It shall die once and for all!

Two Steps Forward

2008-01-01T18:46:00.000-08:00

Well into the second day of 2008 and already challenges have arrived. Relationships of any kind, personal goals (for want of euphemisms or sugar-coated, politically correct language), how to occupy my time (which in fact is a strange thought since I am planned to meet many friends; meaning it really is about work/interning/'official stuff that please mum's ears') and staying positive-minded. After all I do want to change the way I think and the perspectives I take on matters.
So yesterday my sister and I proceeded to calculate our BMIs (Body Mass Index - an index which gauges how healthy our weight is by dividing our weight by the square of our height in metre format). She came in at 17.46 and me at a glorious 17.31. Sheesh. I had better boost my eating patterns and food portions. Maybe women around the world who think skin and thin is glam will regard me as being on the right track but I do not want to make myself vulnerable to osteoporosis in my latter years, with a frail me tottering around in a skeleton of paper-thin skin covering bones with hardly any flesh for padding.
On a chirpier note I think I will like to applaud myself for being so unconventional. =.= On New Year's Eve, I decided I will spend the last hour journaling. So with a Bible, my brinjal-coloured notebook (yes unusual as it sounds it really is brinjal) and my trusty pen I plonked myself belly-down on my parents' queen-sized bed and began to plan ahead for the year. First point, scribble studiously. Pause. Second point, lacklustre scribbling. Longer pause. Put head on bolster and found it a good position to be in. Eyes flutter for a while then close. Third point, scribble with much difficulty. Ahhh decided that bolster is much better. Shall correspond with God in my sleep. So when midnight came I was nicely snuggled in. Mum had earlier on switched off the lights, complaining that I am wasting electricity. She was loudly shouting for everyone to look at the fireworks. People were singing away and shouting... This much I knew but bolster is good and a wide berth of mattress even better. =)
I slept through the countdown! But thank God 2008 still came. Whether or not people were caught drink driving, or were hurt or killed by fireworks, ill, rejoicing, with loved ones or not. It is here.

Looking good is a prerogative

2007-12-24T05:51:00.000-08:00

Me and sis were walking toward the bus interchange when we got waylaid by some wares on display. The stickers caught our attention.

We were looking at the Winnie the Pooh ones when all of a sudden, her eyes drifted to this rather cute goldfish-like fish. We did not recognise the cartoon but my sis being her, was excited at the possibility of uncovering an array of deep sea-themed creatures.

We opened up the booklet... and were confronted by many cute creatures with rather stunned expressions on their faces.

Both of us: Ooooh...
Pause
Sis: They all look shocked. Cheh not photogenic at all!

Poor stickers! It is not their fault the poses were not the most flattering.

Just a year older

2007-12-23T05:10:00.000-08:00

Ooooh, its Dong Ji, or tang yuan festival, also known as the Chinese's Winter Solstice. We do not have winter in Singapore (but we do have thunderstorms) so honestly speaking, I never knew the significance of this rather-mini festival. It took me over ten years to draw the links between the sweet dumpling dessert and 'Dong' (or winter in Mandarin).

Apparently eating those round darlings is supposed to signify that we have aged one year and are moving on to the next (but of course, in more poetic terms). I know I am 23 soon, but I harbour no desire to consume 22 of them in one sitting.

Despite being one day late, my sis and I had a whale of a time hand-making the balls. There was white dough and pink dough, a bowl of water to make the dough more pliable, and finally a bowl of orange coloured sugary stuff.

It turned out to be quite an ordeal. My first few balls turned out terribly wrong. The sugary stuffing spilled out and stained the pink/white dough. My sis and I joked that upon boiling the lot, the water will turn orange because of our lack of skill.

She then gamely proceeded to make star-shaped ones. So it no longer becomes tang yuan (literally translated to soup rounds/circles) but tang xing (soup stars). As you can see, the Lu sisters are taking this revered Chinese festival very seriously.

But so it happens that we did not add enough orange sugar filling. Even though we diligently made two trays of soup shapes (9 stars, 22 rounds/circles), my mum is reluctant to finish up the second tray, complaining that there is too much dough.

So we ended with a table of mess, flour-caked fingers, a thoroughly enjoyable time rolling out our darlings, and four bowls of tang yuan/xing.

Ps. the stars actually kept their shape! They didn't morph to become like their distant roundish cousins!

Victory is in Your hands

2007-12-13T19:52:00.000-08:00

Lord I know You are able.
Lord I believe You are able.
Lord grant me the faith to hope in You who are always able.

In the name of Jesus Christ my Lord and Saviour, Amen!

If you must know, I am not Dutch

2007-12-05T22:43:00.000-08:00

A funny extract from a book which is part of this installation project at the NAC office I work in. It is about the Dutch. How timely! Since my proposed Honours thesis next year is going to be about the Dutch. Never too late to get a whiff of fjords, Calvinism and erm... what else's Dutch?

'The colonial expanse of the Dutch empire stretched far across the blue yonder. They founded New York; they traded in African slaves; they liberated Malaka from the Portuguese. Spices and trade from their colonies were a major source of income. Their reputation as shrewd traders was cemented by the British statesman, George Canning who said:

"In matters of commerce the fault of the Dutch is offering too little and asking too much."

The multiple pejoratives that the word "Dutch" were invented in the seventeenth century by the English in their struggle for economic supremacy, such as:

Dutch courage is the kind that comes out of a brandy bottle.
Dutch treat is an invitation to a dinner you have to pay for.
Dutch auction is an auction where the asking price begins high and goes down.
A Dutch nightingale is a croaking frog.

And many more which have fallen into disuse. I am sure the Dutch coined as many inventive insults, but since English is the default language, we will not speak or hear of those.'

Hahahahaha so funny! I like this guy's humour. And upon reading this slender book, I also found out that tulips came from a Turkish word for turban. Wow! I love it when people talk about words, play on words and misappropriate words. Sometimes you get rather lame puns in the Life! section of Singapore's English daily. Sometimes a friend gets all witty on you and you wish that this would happen a bit more frequently.

[Extract taken from Mr & Mrs K. by Alan Oei, 2006, project for the National Arts Council of Singapore]

A Plea To See

2007-11-29T03:01:00.000-08:00

All the believers were one in heart and mind. No one claimed that any of their possessions was their own, but they shared everything they had. With great power the apostles continued to testify to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus. And God's grace was so powerfully at work in them all that there were no needy persons among them. For from time to time those who owned land or houses sold them, brought the money from the sales and put it at the apostles' feet, and it was distributed to anyone who had need.
Acts 4: 32-35

The year is drawing to a close and the world is fascinated by Christmas - the promise of a holiday break, festive celebrations, sumptious meals and gift exchanges. Yet there are people in less privileged parts of the world who will not be experiencing much of what we are doing to celebrate the holiday. How holy are our holi-days? Have we forgotten Who made it holy in the first place? Is Xmas just Christ-mas in abbreviated modern-day lingo?

When God gave His Son, Jesus Christ to die for us, He was to be the greatest gift the world can ever receive. Even before we acknowledged Him as Abba Father or gave Him our hearts of love, He gave what was dear and precious to Him. It is the gift of salvation, of life, of love and of infinite abundance. What is beautiful about this gift is that it never runs out, it never dulls in worth and it has the power to last forever.

You may be asking what am I getting at? World Vision Singapore runs a yearly campaign when they approach people like us, anyone and everyone, with an offer to donate or buy gifts for children in poorer parts of the world. Their needs are simple and they do not ask for much. Whether it is a blanket or sweater to keep them warm in cold weather, reading books, a community toilet or school uniforms amongst others. We have been given so much in life - stable jobs, supportive families, education and healthy bodies.

God declares several times in the Bible that He will never leave us, neither will He forsake us (Deuteronomy 31:6, Joshua 1:5, Hebrews 13:5). I pray that we will slowly understand and appreciate the true worth of a gift this season and through our giving, show these children that there is a God who remembers, who loves and who has not forsaken them. Many of us have heard of the quote which goes along the lines of - We can give without loving, but we cannot love without giving. Let our hearts be enlarged this season, to think and see beyond the limits of our circumstances. Let us give a gift of Love. Let us show them that God and people whom they may never meet who believe in them.

http://www.worldvision.org.sg/st_Christmas_Gift_Catalogue.php
Check this out for more information!

By no means am I insisting that you do this through World Vision. I am sure there are other organisations which are running similar campaigns. [neither do you have to feel condemned if you decide not to] I am intending to donate to World Vision. So if you will like to do likewise you can contact me and we will submit in our orders together in the same form. To all my friends, it will be really cool if we can all chip in! ^^

As for why I began with a passage from Acts... well read it again! May it stir something within your heart. It is not about how much we give to people around us in terms of financial worth, quantity or material quality. But it is about the heart which is filled with so much love, kindness and caring that transforms a simple gift into a awesome blessing.

Free Rice

2007-11-26T05:32:00.000-08:00

No it is not a campaign to save rice paddy fields from prying fingers, it is something charitable souls have started to benefit hungry millions from underprivileged parts of the world.

www.freerice.com

Calling all wordsmiths, literate people and anyone with a penchant for multiple choice questions - work out your computer terminal for a better good!

Pour Toi

2007-11-25T06:33:00.000-08:00

Mon plus profond et sincère remerciment a Jonathan pour son assistance des plus aimable pour avoir aider une pauvre fille desesperer qui ne compren rien sur les ordinateurs et a créé le theme de son blog present.
Probablement elle aurait effacé son blog ou tous ces entrées par accident si vous ne l'aviez pas aider.
C'est pour cela que vous meritez une petite entree en francais, rien de moins, pour avoir créé le monde virtuel qui est un endroi plus vivable.Avec mon blog minion, l'hamster qui tourne et tous.

-lux-

New Found

2007-11-13T01:54:00.000-08:00

I just checked the calendar. It is amazing. It has only been two weeks since I came back but so much has happened.
I had jetlag, then a rather intense bout of Melbourne-withdrawal symptoms. Up till last week I was wondering what it will take to get myself settled in. The weather made me swoon. Crowds jostled me around. I got onto a bus and enquired whether it was headed toward Clementi MRT station in English. The lady gave me a stunned look and nodded. Only when I sat down did I realise that even though Singapore prides herself on being multi-lingual/cultural/racial etc; if you are Chinese, please speak Chinese.

I attended to the corn on my big toe. My sister commented that each elaborate corn plaster costs around 80-90 cents. It is fascinating because the plaster does work. My precious feet. They have indeed been through numerous shoe changes, a corn, many blisters, cracked heels and raw exposed slivers of flesh just this year alone.

I realised how strange my family can be. Food prices have been looking northward this year leading to a subsequent rise in bread and hawker food prices, amongst unnoticed others. My mum said, "Oh, we should eat less lah!" Seriously if you saw our four frames, the last time you will say is cut down on food consumption. Then again we are well-trained. If Singapore ever undergoes an emergency food rationing exercise, we can still function like we do right now.

Yet what has been most prominent in my daily schedule thus far is my walk with God. The things which I have been through the past two weeks has been intense and I mean everything this descriptive word implies. Working through past memories of when I was still in Singapore, growing up, and not having stepped on Melbourne's fair shores yet. God was cleaning up so much in my life - not just in relation to the past but also in the way I relate to Him. Trust, my imperfections, grace and truly what grace is (2 Cor 12:9), pride, love, joy, salvation, His death on the cross, forgiveness, asking for forgiveness, humility, peace, rest, comfort, faith faith and faith. And grace. I am running through the whole gamut. And in all seriousness, most of this came only within the past week. Many revelations which I am so so thankful for.

The journey is not over. There is still a stretch to go. Giving up is not even a worthwhile consideration. Suddenly so many things in my life are being put into perspective. I have become more sensitive of late. It does not always seem good to be this sensitive but I am sure there is a greater reason for all this.

Wrote an email to a friend in Melbourne to update her on my latest comings and goings. She replied with this eloquent and beautifully-descriptive passage talking about how I should and can trust God, the true artist who can transform even the holes which I have poked into my canvas as I try to fix my problems into an awesome masterpiece. It is not the artwork it is the artist whose masterly hand brings forth life. As for the surge of memories, it is a change in perspective, now that I am ready and can take a long range view on matters and life, and this I can trust God to grant understanding. Using art terminology works because I can associate with the writing easily. Hmmm... I am wondering now if God opened up this vision in her mind. Must have been beautiful. I will love to have that too!

But then just look out into nature, do you not see His presence filling this earth?
Do you not see the glory behind the sun's smile, the dance of the trees, the rhythm of flapping wings as the birds fly as one?

I am not sure what summer in Singapore this time holds for me. Yet I am certain it is a place which is good.

Draw Me Close

2007-10-21T04:57:00.000-07:00

Draw me close to You
Never let me go
I lay it all down again
To hear You say that I'm Your friend

You are my desire
No one else will do
Cause nothing else could take Your place
To feel the warmth of Your embrace

Help me find the way, bring me back to You

You're all I want
You're all I've ever needed
You're all I want
Help me know You are near

Kelly Carpenter

Brick under 30

2007-10-02T06:09:00.000-07:00

It is less than a month to an earlier-than-usual return to Singapore. I never thought the year would turn out this way. I am not pursuing my Honours degree in July as planned. I bought a ticket back home which made my trips as a whole more expensive than anticipated because I was initially intending to return for good next July.

And the past six months has been a wrestle with God over issues of condemnation, sin, judgment, faith, surrender, commitment, my inheritance and love. The nature of love, what it is - in all its acquired fleshly reality, emotional and mental and spiritual dimensions, undercurrents and my gosh! all those stories in films, novels, poetry and songs which I once thought were cliched, I can now identify with.

The heartaches, the hurts, the joys, the pleasurable moments spent reflecting on good times... all were there. Suddenly I felt I was drawn tightly, relentlessly into the realness of human existence. The questions others tussled with, and which the indifferent me once dismissed as stuff beyond me, are also the questions I now ask.

Many of which I am unable to fully and adequately answer; and some of which I may never be able to.

Sometimes I wished I was back home. A foolish idea that suggested I could escape everything here or at least put things on hold till I came back to Melbourne. If I did.

Pray for me. Full release yeah? Yes please.

Putting the line in Wrinkle

2007-09-09T03:18:00.000-07:00

Sharon, Krista and I were taking a long walk up Royal Parade to Doreen's house for an Annual Dinner 2007 cum birthday celebration.

It was Saturday night and we were having girl-chat all the way. It is truly amazing: we are not the closest of friends though we are well-acquainted enough with each other; yet we can talk non-stop for 45 minutes. The stuff women are made of. Heh, amazing God.

So yeah all of a sudden, out of nowhere popped a couple dressed in their nines, definitely prepared for a posh night-out. The lady had this gorgeous dress. Allow me the indulgence of describing it. It was this soft white affair with delicate straps and which flowed onto an A-line cut just above the knees. There were no prints or patterns save a well-expressed lace-like design that twirled around the hem of the skirt.

So there we were, three girls dressed for a casual party a church friend organised [I was the worse-for-wear in t-shirt, cardigan, slacks and sneakers], making rather audible sounds upon spotting gorgeous dress.

Wah!!! That's a really pretty dress! It looks fantastic!
We did this all the way from 8 metres away till we passed the couple.

And the silly male partner of the lady began to protectively put his arm around her shoulders and say - I know, she is very pretty!

Erm we were talking about the dress. And yes she is attractive. But hey, we're girls, and most absolutely straight!
Oh but if what you really wanted was for us to say your girlfriend is attractive, just be obvious, we would not have declined the invitation. ^^

Woke up on the wrong side of the bed

2007-09-02T22:32:00.000-07:00

Today I had two pieces of sushi for lunch - in typical mutant Aussie fashion (meaning garguantan). I ate away as I watched No Reservations with my friends.

I took, I would roughly guess, nearly an hour if not more to finish them up. I was not even keen on eating up each rice grain.

Losing my appetite?

I pray not. But today is one of those days which is as dreary as the rain-slicked Melbourne outside my apartment.

Usually I love the rain. I find it poetic, beautiful and refreshing, if not a bit inconvenient. Today somehow it is more of the first two - a experiential metaphor for what I'm feeling inside yet inside so awe-inspiring.

Jesus my Lord, I know You are standing next to me in this.

When you are on the stretcher

2007-08-26T19:49:00.000-07:00

http://www.elevationchurch.com.au/mp3/kathytestimony.mp3

This is a powerful sermon from Kathy Abraham of Elevation Church in Brisbane. She read from Mark chapter 2.

A few things I took with me:
That we are truly the church of God, each one of us living, breathing and being. When others look at us they see our dispositions, and will either feel drawn to and welcomed by our faith and hospitality; or turned off and distanced by us.

Never be afraid to get onto the stretcher. You do not have to pretend to hold everything together. Let pride go and lie on the stretcher if you realise you truly need help. However getting on that stretcher is just the first step. If no one is there to carry that stretcher you are on; when you are alone in your grief and pain, how are you going to get to Jesus?
Was there not four men who carried the paralysed man and lowered him from the roof that he may reach Jesus?

Do not let pride blind your eyes. The things we say which we so often take for granted have enormous power. Do we not know that the enemy can latch onto this and use it against us?

How do we truly stand by our brothers and sisters when they are going through a tough patch? Judge and ostracise them? Say 'grace' but not show any compassion toward them? Have we not fully understood the power of prayer?

A day in the life of

2007-08-24T19:29:00.000-07:00

Lux who is on an extended 6 month break.

Scene - Apartment 923 in a block of student apartments in Carlton, Melbourne.
8-9 am
Her brain clicks into gear. She hears her housemate waking up, entering the toilet, bathing, blowing dry her hair. Housemate runs down the stairs because she is late. No brekkie. Sunflower wind chime on door handle sounds as she runs out.
9-11 am
One of the most challenging times of the day. Lux negotiates the options of switching on her mobile phone, checking out the time and deciding whether or not to get up. The decision-making process is a protracted one and can take up to 2 hours, by which time the sun is shining a-bright and Lux is getting lethargic from immobility.
So what does she do with lethargy? Toss her moo-moo around. Kick her socks off. Lies face-flat on pillow. Flailing her arms around. In the end, more lethargy.
11-12 noon
Generally quick prayer. Then she wonders - should she pray longer? Sets kettle on boil and heads to the toilet. Comes back and preps brekkie. Says grace and prays for wisdom, understanding and revelation as she reads her daily bread. Devotions!
Fast forward to 12pm
Lux is actually rather tired but still she perseveres on in front of the computer screen. Chatting is rather interesting. She hits the sheets about half past one after talking with her Father.

So what warrants this post? I guess it has been on my mind for a while already. My daily cycle did not use to be like that. I would wake up at 9 to 10 in the morning and leave it as it is, not dilly dally for another hour.
And I certainly do not like the guilt which enters whenever I do not pray at great great lengths at the start of the day and at the end. Does the length of prayer matter? And does it matter whether or not I respond to the Word in devotion-writing or just contemplation? Somehow I seem to think that the latter is more 'appropriate' and if not done in that manner, feel a bit awful.
Religious spirit? I have to pray against this and pray instead for discernment to realise that discipline is not enforced by an angry, distant Father but rather a posture that brings me in adoration to the feet of my loving Father.
There is something good in routine but not when it suffocates me. I refuse to be a prey to the enemy.
Come on Lux! A return to your earlier days when you had a healthier daily routine is possible!